Kindergarden

When I went to kindergarden,
all the other kids where there.
Oh!! I hated kindergarden. All the other kids where there.
Cold and lonely. All I wanted was was to go
home, and leave the kindergarden:
all the other kids where there.

Mustang, Oklahoma

There’s this town in Oklahoma
famous for its bad aroma,
where they closed the public library on demand.
  – Learnin’ ain’t no thing we’re needin’
    Waste away your time with readin’,
    still you only got five fingers on your hand.

Count them four times! That’s a twenty.
No more numbers, those are plenty:
You came walzin’ in on a count of three.
Our church it has a bell; a dome; a bible.
Here in Oklahoma, we keep the bible under lock and key.

From the mountain over yonder
you can see my neighbours Honda
and maybe, you could wish upon a star.
No-one here has no such longing.
As Jesus said, there is no wrong in
loving thy neighbour from afar.

Mr. Wilson

The mild rage is far closer,
the mid-term: a dark and humid night.
I’ve seen them, I’ve seen a few:
a cross-sense of ‘re-cogni’ and ‘deja-vu’.
The mid-term: a subdivided fight.

Show of hands: a sign of defeat.
Raw emotion’s demanding the raw meat.
We’ve met before, of that I’m sure.
You’re closing in – I close the door.
Jeepers, Mr Wilson, ain’t that neat?!

Chatty-do

By and by I, me and my
and a damsel in distress,
waited in the bottled gin
with a sign: do not transgress.

What keeps this issue from
taking afloat is it’s gravity.

“I got a lot and that is not
a reason to confere”,
I said to her and she said “sure!”
“These hides are in transfer.”

What keeps this issue…

She fained a smile – it took a while
(the dead are coming back).
She said: “You boys, have just one choice
and that choice is heart-attack.”

What keeps this issue…