I read about this somewhere.

I should google it

but I don’t.

A turtle sits on a fencepost

On a windswept prairie

In Australia? Kansas?

The bluebells are out in southeast Kent,
Though not to be found ‘round the cottage doors.
This wild weed of fresh-bloom bathroom scent
Spreads untended on the scrub forest floor.

Warmth is too much
But cold is not nearly enough.
I wish I were hot.

Rise Up, Pharoah, worship the sun,
Dust and sand in your elephant gun.
Tombed up and hidden,
Slaves’ throats all slit,
Nothing to do but wait and sit.

Someday we’ll all be together I swear
In that weekend lodge in the sky.

We’ll sit and drink beer
Having spent all day tracking the bull moose.

I am burning up the perfect wood.
Two-year-old heartwood sugar maple,
Passed over last year,
Saved for a cold cold week that never came.
Now it is cold.

Well I did it ‘cause it was
The right thing to do
And besides I don’t have to
Ask you.

I don’t want to perform,
I don’t want to show off,
I don’t want to attract
Attention to myself.

A long long long long time ago
The sun came pourin’ down,
A-raisin’ up the trees and shrubs
An’ bushes all around.
An’ as this vegetation grew too weary for the race
It fell to earth an’ made the soil
For them that took its place.

I will of course shave off my beard.
Undoubtedly I’ll cut my hair
My nails I’ll trim,
My body slim,
And then I’ll be a Diff’rent Bear.

Could that be a
thrust
when I was
first things

She inhabits the mirror

Axe and wedge
Whetstone and sledge.
Clean split
Needs a keen edge.

Colin decided we needed some mulch
For feeding the shrubs and flowers.
Arthur and David his brother both told us
The Sewage Disposal Plant tosses out sludge:
Perfectly fertile and free for the asking
So over we went.

You can call on your machine
Any time, night or day.
You can order your machine:
Fix me up, make my day.
Sit me down, stroke my back,
Shut the door, stuff the crack.
Make me right: sing a song,
Something light, not too long,
Something sweet, can’t go wrong