The lawn’s full of color, all rustic and messy
Trees stripping with passion, no shame will they hide!
I seize the rake and wade into the madness
Fall’s the best time of year
Let’s spend it outside.
The dogs frolic and scamper with gusto and whimsy,
Hither and yon through the fields with their paws they do glide!
Munching mushrooms and tripping; sweet Jesus, they’re junkies!
Not my fault, blame the fungus,
With such vice, I abide!
To hike appalachia, all glorious and scenic
How lucky, backpacking with friends alongside.
Then a guy with a banjo; my mouth is so pretty!
Awkward request; thank God
I know how to hide.
Halloween draws near, all gothic and spooky
A dare is procured, will I swallow my pride?
“You should be Lady Gaga, your shoulders are perfect!”
‘But I still bench 280!’
“So can she”, they confide.
The holidays beckon with bird death galore
Turkeys are jerky; hides become dried!
Lopping off heads, rampant plucking of feathers
Their fate has been sealed;
In the wrong barn they reside.
Lest you think me an asshat, both heartless and cruel
Such censure on your part would only misguide;
Blame gravy and indians, though not in that order
History we deride.
But death isn’t always the final ambition
of Autumn and all its intent far and wide;
There’s always the consumption of pies and bread pudding,
the gluttony of which
Darwin applauds nationwide.
* It took me 15 minutes to write most of this, but over two hours to ultimately find a way to describe killing a stupid turkey in something approaching iambic motherfucking pentameter. Not the turkey’s fault, I realize.
Sir @ October 25, 2010