So it is coming to an end, at least to some kind of end. This time around more people were involved.


Came to work early to start a new salvo
at this new obsession making everyone wacko.
Trying to get a handle on it, ‘cuz it’s gonna grow
Where’s my rope, my lariat, my lass-o.

Ok, that last one was a little bit bumpy
the words used were very dopey.
Its got to get better for me to be happy
because to do a bad job is just plain crappy.

Coming in to help Alex shows as if on queue
shouting “I want to help!” like it was a rescue.
“I wasn’t here for the start of this literary barbeque,”
“I can help, I have above average I.Q.”

Now this situation is really getting bizarre
people are hearing about this from near and far.
I have to keep the door closed, not open or ajar
maybe even secure it with a lock or a bar.

So putting this “thing” on my website for all to access
might give meaning to all this “goofing off” excess.
But for all the time spent, I really must confess,
the people who took part relieved a lot of stress.

So the drunken and idiotic wordsmith party
continues with their shameless poetic sortie.
Knowing that in this torturous endeavor, they’re guilty
of ruining the sublime, the splendor, the beauty.

There was a problem downstairs so we changed ven-ue,
carrying this manuscript like a treasure of great value.
We picked up another voice in John’s nephew
and headed back up after solving the administrative issue.


I've showed this to a few people already but not one has figured out its theme yet. I wonder if it is only because I started it that its theme is so obvious.

---

Memory: My father had a construction company back in the 70s. I remember one day a truck dumped a huge mound of sand in our backyard for a big job at our house. The mound got as high as the roof of the house. After the truck and the workers left, all the neighborhood kids came over and we had the biggest game of King of the Mountain any of us had ever had.

Song of the Day: "Hold On" by Good Charlotte

[kahit na ano]