The man sat at the bar in Tennessee star-
ing at the array of small batch and single
barrel Bourbons on the top two shelves and
told the bartender that as a Kentuckian he
had consumed enough bottom shelf and well
Bourbon to float a battleship and that now
his liver was in dry dock. The bartender
asked if he wanted some soda water. The
man whispered, “Let’s fool my liver,” and
then said in a loud voice, “Give me a double
Jack Daniels.” The bartender said, “They are
all about the same, sour mash whiskey by
a different name.” “Yeah,” the man said,
“my liver can hear but never learned to read.”
The benediction says
to return no one evil for evil;
I might as well fry up and eat
an ugly, old Boll weevil.
The good book says
to suffer fools gladly;
I might as well boil up and eat
Lutfisk ever so happily.
These holy directives
invite my unholy invectives.
I take comfort in learning
that C.S. Lewis was burning
about suffering fools gladly.
It would be nice
if it were the status quo
no evil for evil to bestow,
but if I can’t win or place
in this race,
I would settle for show
before the mercy-seat
and for great grace
Sitting in the breakfast area
of the motel, a man watched
the local news on the TV. It
was an item on how Americans
are getting fatter and fatter.
He turned to a little, old skinny
guy who also was watching
the TV and said, “I guess we
are getting bigger.” Rising from
his seat, the old guy stood to his
full four-foot eleven inches and
said, “What they don’t tell you
is that we are getting taller and
taller so we can handle that
extra weight. It’s lies all lies.
That’s all you hear.” The man
went back to his sausage patty
and scrambled eggs and mumbled
to himself, “Well all-righty
Unfathomable, but not quite ineffable,
with just a hint, a clue or two,
just enough to know enough
about You, mysterious love
of the universe and beyond,
expanding, planning, processing
considering, reflecting, au fond —
playfully revealing Your hide and seek,
beckoning, in the time of fulfillment,
all to come and meet, there for us
in joy and sorrow, there will be
no tears tomorrow, but today,
contemplate and pray, my finger
just touches Thee; come and find,
Olly, Olly, oxen free, such love divine.
it might snow today;
the snow doesn’t care
it might rain today;
the rain doesn’t care
the sun will shine today,
perhaps behind clouds;
that’s how clouds we see;
the sun doesn’t care
the wind will blow today;
the wind doesn’t care
i care about thee,
snow, rain, sun, wind;
i bow before thee
for thee were before,
during and will be
and i am grateful for
everyday i am here
to greet thee.
There was an old guy from E’town
who thought he was quite the clown.
Around town, he blew a big horn
which brought him much scorn
from the town’s mayor right on down.
There was a madam from Riverdale,
who could tell quite a tale.
She kept a book
on every crook,
so she wouldn’t land in jail.
There were two fellows from rapids named Grand
who built quite a pyramid plan.
The pious family joined in
while pointing out everyone’s sin.
It’s amazing they aren’t all in the can.
There was a gent from Montague
who loved to tip more than a few.
He guzzled his beer
and was thrown out on his ear
while spilling a hoppy, new micro-brew.
There was a mobster from Kentucky
who thought he was really lucky.
He ran drugs here
and ladies of the night there.
Now on the farm, he shovels horse-puckey.
There was an angel from Bowling Green
who would posture and preen.
Around the town she pranced
and in the bars she danced
and the boys could only dream.
There was a scholar from Denver
whose studies ended never.
He read book after book
while in a library nook
and he hasn’t been seen in forever.
Allowing for every thought
but considering only those
concerning what is most
desirable, the young class
elected to ponder these
few things during the hour
granted for this study. Some
hurried the process, wanting
it to conclude within the time
judged appropriate for this
kind of matter, but some others
laughed at the audacious
manner of their class mates
noting the project could last
other than what they thought.
Prior to the class meeting, the
question on the teacher’s mind
rested on a foundation of quite
solid research, but she started
tracing what she thought would,
under particular circumstances,
validate the study for the students.
What would she do if the results
X’ed out the original hypothesis?
Youth can go with the flow. She
zeroed in and thought, they’ll survive.
Wind whips through bushes.
Sun rises on golden oaks.
Bare maples stand strong.
The man read an article by a prominent
physician on why he didn’t want to stay
alive past seventy-five. The physician
listed all the statistics. Then while
riding his bike, the man was warned,
“On your left.” The rider, decked out
in helmet, spandex and a cycling jersey
with the name of the man’s favorite
cycling store emblazoned on the back,
called out as he passed, “Not bad for
an eighty-four-year old. Huh?” The
man called after the speedster, “No,
not bad at all.”
I went to kitchen to grind coffee beans
and remembered I needed to tinkle.
I went to the bathroom, washed my hands,
returning to grind those beans.
My wife, with a smile and, in her eye, a twinkle
asked if I had remembered to tinkle,
to which I could only reply, “My, oh, my,”
returning to the bathroom with a frown and a crinkle.