Country Klutz

Just got paid,
Got a brand new car.
Time to grab my baby,
Head to the ER.

Gonna ask her Momma,
Have to ask my Dad,
“Do you think it’s broken?”
“‘Cause she’s limpin’ real bad.”

Time to get married,
Gonna get her a ring.
Just as soon as a doctor
Inspects that wasp sting.

Today’s at the orthopedist,
Hopping through the door.
I have a bad case of deja vu,
‘Cause we’ve been here before.

When she hears or sees an insect,
She’ll attempt a triple lutz.
She’s on the ground, whimpering.
I’m married to a klutz.

Goodbye

It’s been a long month,
But only thirty days.
The challenge is over,
We go our separate ways.

As we go into May,
Random thoughts will fly by.
I’ll be writing by chance,
Not because I will try.

Thirty poems is not much,
Not even a book.
Unless you self-publish,
For a Kindle or Nook.

Busy

This will be a busy week.
As I paddle up Shitz’ Creek.
I hope everything will go well.
Since lately things have gone to Hell.

Paul said it’s just Another Day.
We’re almost to the month of May.
I’m running out of good ideas.
What else rhymes with “flour tortillas”?

One more poem to make the month.
However, nothing rhymes with month.
I guess I need another word.
Luckily, none of this gets heard.

The Cedarville Line

Southbound on the Cedarville Line,
My Texas home is on my mind.
I’ve only got four States to go,
It’s a long, long way from Ohio.

Indianapolis goes flying by,
Someone behind me starts to cry.
I’m not the only one alone,
But at least (at last) I’m heading home.

The Land of Lincoln’s just a blur,
I turn around to look at her.
Her crying stopped a few miles back,
Now, it’s just the clicking of the track.

St Louis and the engines needed fuel.
The dining car refilled the gruel.
I grabbed another cup of joe,
Just a few more hours left to go.

Oklahoma, we just blew right past.
Next is Texas, home at last.
Cross the border to the Lone Star State.
Hurry now, let’s not be late.

Made it home on the Cedarville Line.
In fact, we made it right on time.
Texas underfoot at last.
Northbound before the summer’s passed.

Mom’s Lament

Nobody loves me,
Everybody hates me,
Guess I’ll go eat worms.

My dogs don’t love me,
Unless I’m bearing treats.
I try to hug and kiss them,
Guess I’ll admit defeats.

I let them out to play.
I feed them two squares a day.
They pee on the floor, it’s OK.
Their hair makes me sneeze more than hay.

Am I bitter?
Not even a bit.
So, they sit by Dad.
I won’t have a snit.

They really love me.
I’m sure of that.
But if I find they don’t,
I’m getting me a cat.

Murphy’s Lament

Mom, why are you bleeping?
Can’t you see I’m sleeping?

I don’t need to pee outdoors.
I already did, over on the floor.

Is it time for me to eat?
If not, I’m going back to my seat.

I don’t like the lady with the scoop.
She harvests all the tasty poop.

You’re putting drops in my eyes?
Where is my tasty cookie prize?