Oliphant Parts

My inbox is empty and my need for validation is strong
please send me an email, some spam or Kermit in a thong.
I feel so alone now, a monkey in a storm
where’s Kermit and his thong?
Lonely, lonely, lonely,
lonely me

a sunny day
a soothing voice
a cooling drink
and you

This work is entitled “Sitting on my ass at a swim meet, trying not to fall asleep between events or throttle the children who are fighting over everything and nothing. Holy crap, there must be something to focus on to keep me from grabbing them both by the ear and screaming like a madman!” I suppose its alternate title could be “A Maple Tree”.

a maple tree
trunk and branches spread
whorled and grooved
in brown and grey
and green
a spider’s nest
and splotches of moss
scabrous lichens
spread beneath the canopy

It’s 93f out there and not yet noon. What’s a guy to do but spew another poem? Swim, I supposed. Or go back to reading my book (“Dante Club”, by Matthew Pearl). But first, spewing.

Out, damned heat
let out the fire and the cold in
I swear that I’m melting
a puddle of meat
and itchy skin

I’ve turned on the fans
and opened the blinds
I’m praying for cool
but I fear it’s for naught
because like inside
outside it’s hot.

Now this blows. I’ve got the poetry stuff coming out the a… pen right now. Okay, might as well jot the crap down and get it over with.

#1: The Scribbler
I have words aplenty
and ideas too
it’s just their ordering
which is too few.

No Beowulf from me
nor an Odyssey
I’m more inclinded
to proved few lines
and set the text free.

Wow, deep. I may just vomit. Speaking of which, let’s go at it again. No! In the name of all that is holy (like my undies), please stop!

forced by the heat
to surrender
to retreat
to the bowels
of our home.

the sun shines, blinds
and we gather
in the hole, the basement
where cool air still hides
resides below the furnace
of this new day.

why in hell didn’t I buy
a home
with a/c?

So maybe not an ode, but it’s from the heart. That’s got to count for something, right?