Fighting
I witnessed a fight today,
Both struggling against fate,
No one winning,
No one gaining,
All is lost to the passion of
Temperance.
Were I a boy,
I would not see fit
To smash my fist
In front of it,
As I call down,
I can’t imagine victory.
Yet there is so much to
Find
Discoveries to be made,
But I’m so busy
Trying to succeed
While killing another’s
Hopes and dreams.
Beer and Coachman’s Wieners
One dark and lovely evening.
I trod towards the brightest light.
Only to find myself wondering, was I due for a fright?
It was the eve of bonfire grieving.
Young men went forth towing their heap.
Toward a pile of dodgy supplies.
The quiet sounds of men’s replies.
Saying “Yes m’son I got my beer Cheap.”
‘Twas only one time or another.
The ol’ boys could tell me about food.
Speaking of Coachmen’s Wieners in the Nude.
And to me it was only a bother.
On a night such as any other they came.
Beer in hand and fire afoot.
Trying to keep the wieners from soot.
The went reelin’ forward in fire and game.
