
A farmer from rural Decatur
Found his soul in a hole near a tater
And grasping for it
Found it weighed quite a bit
So he called down the hole, “See ya later!”

A farmer from rural Decatur
Found his soul in a hole near a tater
And grasping for it
Found it weighed quite a bit
So he called down the hole, “See ya later!”

we left the trees
with so much to learn
a stick can be sharpened
and branches will burn
cows can be milked
their juices will churn
the Nile will flood
with the Dog Star’s return
and even today
there’s so much to learn
that we’re looking into
the matter at CERN

I met a man
Who had a plan
To make me
Very rich,
And I was low
On cash and so
I listened to
His pitch:
For a fee,
He shared
With me
The secret scam
He knew,
And if you send
Ten dollars,
Friend,
I’ll share it
With you too.

I went out in the sun
I was white as wonder bread
still I stripped down to my shorts
and I bared my balding head
I looked just like a Q-tip
as I laid out on the spread
and I guess I fell asleep
for I woke up flaming red
I thought I’d get a tan
but I’m lobsterized instead
and now I’m truly worried
as to what will lie ahead
for the thought of even moving
now fills me with dread
I’ll prop myself up
for the night on my bed
I’m sure I’ll get big blisters
until my skin is shed
and probably by morning
I’ll wish that I was dead
I guess I didn’t listen
to what my mother said
don’t lay out in the sun
when you’re white as wonder bread

His name was Jack Pine
And he died for our sins,
Still he stands there in line
With his wires and pins;
While other trees ’round
Freely reach for the sky,
He is lashed to the ground
Without roots and bone-dry.
There once came a day
When his wires went dead,
For man found a way
To use cell phones instead;
Still he stands there in line
As the new age begins–
His name was Jack Pine
And he died for our sins.

I’ll not see the pearly gates
Nor blaze of the infernal,
For thanks to Zeno’s paradox,
My life must be eternal:
The time I’ve left divides in half
In fractions, o’er and o’er,
So mathematically, at least,
I’ll live forevermore!
The time I’ve left divides in half
In fractions, o’er and o’er,
So mathematically, at least,
I’ll live forevermore!
So mathematically, at least,
I’ll live forevermore!
I’ll live forevermore!

When people ask,
‘What’s with the beard?’
I tell them that
I think it’s weird
To disapprove
Of God’s own plan
Of making whiskers
On a man.
God’s given them
a cause for scorn
and so they ‘fix’
it every morn.
Me, I think
I’ll let it grow–
But carmel apples
have to go.

pawn shop man
call off your goon
i think we
better settle
i sold to you my
gold doubloon
you said it was
base metal
you told me that
my silver spoon
was iron like
this kettle
pawn shop man
i think that soon
you’re going to
test my mettle

in the shadow
of olympus mons
there spins
an old romance
the wind and sand
become as one
when arm-in-arm
they dance
under the pale
light of earth
their silent vows
are sworn
and every time
they bump and grind
another devil’s
borne
(orig. posted 3/17)