Saturday, December 16, 2017

The sling was invented by a man
Who put his hand in his pocket
While his arm was out of socket
And noted the relief.
And when the man got home he found
The underdrawers that he had on
Beneath his outer britches
Had no pocket, but some slits with stitches
That allowed him better to pee.
But with his outer britches off,
He found his pocket also doffed
And his arm hung limp and he screamed in pain
Until he pulled his underbreeks
Up to his chin and slang his sore arm tnru.
And this all worked fine
Until his wife came in from the butcher shack
And found him in this matter-of-fact way,
And in her alacrity and pragmatic sense
Of his calamity and her defense
Of such a sight in her kitchen,
She took up a bodkin and sliced off a piece of her own petticoat
And fashioned him a proper sling
That he could wear with anything
Whether pocketed or not
Until his arm healed up right and righteously.

-jenn

Friday, December 15, 2017

Sometimes Karma is delayed,
And just when you think you've done something good,
Like rescue a baby cat
From the jaws of a pembroke corgi,
And you lay your head down on a pillow,
And someone jerks said pillow
Right out from under your melon head,
And your head takes a one inch bloop
Down onto your mattress,
And you hear someone say,
"THAT'S MY PILLOW!"

Then you know you will have to wait
A little while longer for what goes around
To come around,
Or..... Do you?
That is YOUR pillow, afterall!

-jenn
Energy is the ability to do work.
"Shirk" is the ability to slide your work
Up off of you and onto some other fool.
And work is good.
And shirk is too,
When you feel your soul getting slack,
And you see that last straw
Heading for your camel's back.

Tis better to shirk and run away
For a day,
Than to break in half
And be laid up
And outta work the rest of yore natural born life.

-jenn

Last night, while I waited outside your house
For your wife to go to sleep,
I got sleepy,
And to stay awake,
I went through your mail.
I had taken it with me, like a monkey,
Up into the branches of a sycamore,
But your mail was as boring as mine is.
When I finally saw all your lights go off in your house,
I climbed down,
But a limb snagged my vest,
And hung me out to dry,
A package stuck in a fork of the tree.
The rest of your mail went fluttering down
Like falling leaves.

That's when your neighbors across the street
Heard the clatter and turned their porch lights on.
Just about then the branch I was snagged on snapped,
And I fell, flat on my back on the ground.

I lay there smiling, happy to be alive,
Staring up through the sycamore
At the bright stars shining down,
While your neighbor man yelled into the night
At "You damn kids!" And a few other vagrant unnamed miscreants.

He went back in and turned off his lights
And I stood up, dusted myself off,
Picked up all your scattered mail,
And then I noticed that one package
That had stuck up in the tree out of my reach.

I jumped up and grabbed a branch
And tried to swing up and knock it down.
The branch cracked and made a rather loud pop,
And your neighbor's lights came back on.
I swung my feet up just as the branch broke
And stood up in the fork of the tree
Like a possum.
I watched your neighbor storm
Out his front door and down his front steps
And across the street
And right over to where I was.

I jumped down out of the tree
And landed at his feet.
He began to lecture me and I proceeded to give him a cussing.
I told him I was only trying to help you get your mail.
He was tall, and so he simply reached up
And took the package down for me.
He must've thought all my dirty talk was talkin' dirty,
For quietly now, and like a knight,
He bent at the waist to bow to me,
And then, went to one knee
As if to propose,
And said, "At your service, Ma'am."

And then he asked if he could take me to IHOP.

Well I tell you all this to say,
That if your mail looked a bit disheveled,
It may or may not have been through a lot last night.

-jenn

Thursday, December 14, 2017

You delight me in person
You draw me from afar
You dazzle me in the company of others

Your love dawns on me
And warms my heart
Makes me shine

You do it all
And did I mention,
You delight me in person...

-jenn

I'm a lover.
It's what I do.
And if I fight,
I only fight for love.
I fight for you.
I love for you, too,
From way over here
On the shores of my soul,
Where love laps up
High on the sand,
Like the socks I pull up
High on my thighs, and the boots I zip.
I stand and move against
The things that oppose you.
I dance and twirl and hurl mighty stones
Into the sea of love and grace
For you.
I pace the shoal til my high hopes for you
Come low enough for me to take down,
And then I wrestle them to the ground
And have them fully,
For you.....
And for me.

-jenn


There's a heart of sand
On an asphalt road
In a subdivision in Oklahoma City.
It just appeared
Like the stigmata
On the palms of a saint.
It's here to say that right in the middle
Of all this hate
And hairsplitting and division in this country,
Love still reigns.
And will if anyone will take the time to tip our hats,
Or remove them,
Or bow our knees,
Not as a show of what we believe
Or don't believe,
But as strength of will,
To prove what we would do
To woo true love,
And brotherhood and sisterhood
Back into our everyday lives.

-jenn