I Need To Think

So I find myself on the far side
Of a failed happily-ever-after—
What happened to all the joy?
Where’s all that guilt-free laughter?

And to all my ever-lovely ones
Who so luckily got quite away:
I wish them all an undying love
From the other who stayed the next day.

But my slice of Confederate heaven
Has grass that could be soon be green;
Once the lingering Summer falls aside
I’ll then look deep between

The choices to that youth resigned,
Incautious, and stupid languidly met—
Always took out the trash and paid the bills,
Dreaming of distant hills and beaches yet:

Words make sad toil to fully tell
Why are we here today?
Lucky, we’re still allowed
To have any part or say—

From A joyous Hard Day’s Night
To The mature Razor’s Edge:
A generation sees in full bright,
But lost is the line for our kedge.

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Heatwave

Thank God, the Sun finally fell,
And my grass is all hay, as far as I can tell.
And, she has remarried, well done, well-played;
While I return to my room and its old bed, unmade.

How to escape these grayer ill-jointed days
As we reap the errors of our less-traveled stupid ways—
Find a job, see the doctors, count to ten.
You are right, you’ll never touch her again.

Mercury pauses up past one hundred and two;
Horrible news arrived from the Audubon Zoo;
A jaguar slipped her man-made enclosure;
Happily-ever-after looks very far from sure.

This Heatwave is here for another fortnight.
Wear your sunscreen, hold onto fantasies tight.
Pay the right bills, sell the rest of the stock.
O to have mystick time like from Ashland’s clock.

Weather well, all ye Christians, thru this Austin heatwave.
Gather fresh chrysanthemums for this Land of the Brave.

Hey There, I’m Jessup

Hey there, I’m Jessup.
Just an ugly old Burnet paddock hoss;
Caint hardly speak clear so I ast this
Jackass, Clem, across the way to git my thoughts down.
Yeah, a jackass, but at least he agreed, he being a poet and all.
I told him no rhymin, but who knows—
He’s a jackass after all, so sorry bout any rhymin.
Twas a time passed when I ran with the best
But my ever teener haid said go ahead, run,
but my geriatric apoplitic knee said uh uh and here I am,
On this old farm. Hay is good.
Caint say much about the company. Jackasses all over. [Oh, sorry Clem.]
Yeah and so I was thinking about Pan Wren, my one time heavenly.
Ast me if I was on her Friends list.
Gosh, I wanna be on her Lover list, but that aint happnin. Bad knee, worse ‘tude.
Anyway, thanks fer listning to an old paddock hoss. You been so nice and all.
Next time yer this away, come on over and I just might surprise you
With a
Hey there, I’m Jessup.