the snake

i was born by the river in a little shack i wanted to conquer the world but couldn’t get on track i found a bag of gold in a hole out back and got a ride to town from a guy named mack he left me at the station at fifth and main mixed emotions swirled around in my brain the feelings i had were hard to explain but with the bag of gold i got on the train ckickety clickety clickety clack no one suspected what i had in my sack i bought a ticket for the very last stop at the stroke of midnight off the train i did hop the moon looked down with a wistful frown i put my bag on my shoulder and entered the town the streets were filled with men with guns but i did not know anyone i was accosted by the famous jack slade i looked in his face and was not afraid you look like a tenderfoot, he said give me that bag or i will shoot you dead i handed it over without a qualm knowing i would never come to harm slade opened the bag and a snake popped out he had no time to even shout the snake hardly made a sound and slade fell to the ground the rounders witnessing the scene turned various shades of green the hour has come at last i heard black dan riley gasp the owlhoots all drifted away and night slowly turned to day the end is quickly told the snake did not turn back to gold i was left with no cards up my sleeve and a story no one will believe stranger, take pity on me all i wanted was to be free i grasped at the ghost of a chance but only devils can dance

catfish

i dreamed i was tom sawyer fishing in a muddy stream and tom caught a catfish but it was not what it seemed the catfish was abe lincoln and he tossed tom a dime and said, hold on to it, my boy it must last you for all time be wary, said walt whitman for all this will be forgot what is seen will be wiped clean but what is whispered will not then up stepped henry ford wearing a necktie made of worms for he was not george washington and certainly not george burns do not cut down the cherry tree lest all this glory end tom paine is in the parlor making huey long his friend mr vanderbilt has four aces and grant a pair of kings jesse james looks over his shoulder as boss tweed pulls the strings a new book will be written when the old world returns but the children will not read it for no one ever learns tom reeled in the catfish and took the hook from out its mouth custer set out for the territory ambrose bierce went south

poem for grandma

i wrote this poem i wrote it just for you i really wrote it for grandma so that is not strictly true once there was a little dog who lived in a far away continent he barked like he hated the world but that is not what he really meant the little dog had a friend who took the form of a cat but life is a dream so do not make too much of that the dog and the cat were owned by a merchant named mr smith and that is all i know i hope it is enough to go on with i could tell you a long story if you have nothing but time it may not make much sense and it may not even rhyme mr smith had a secret life in which he was a wizard but everybody has a secret life so that is not so surprising, is it? the dog’s name was doctor doom and the cat’s name was plain jane and i forgot to mention the canary who was isabella, queen of spain there was a cow named dolores she was empress of portugal and a duck named walter worhington who was everybody’s pal there was a worm in the back of the garden named harold trumbull the third and a sheep named little gus who was always true to his word they all had secrets from the authorities and from each other and i will finish the story some other time because that’s all for now, brother

the mystery

just when ethel thought that everything was "back to normal" , a postcard arrived from cousin stephen, not from ankara or calcutta but from bournemouth - only two miles away. rabham, the hired man, was watching her from the french window, so she placed the postcard in the desk drawer and turned briskly toward cousin markton, who was lounging on the blue divan and smoking his eternal meerschaum. “cousin stephen will be arriving later today." "stephen, stephen. can't seem to place him. " "you would have met him at the wedding of cousin sophia and cousin tancred. tall, slender, bit of a bully, bit of a cad, more than a bit of a snob." "with one green eye and one violet? wore a monocle over the violet eye?" "the very same." "what's he been up to, eh? no good, most likely." markton took his pipe out of his mouth and studied it. "staying a while, is he?" "he doesn't say how long he intends to stay." "hmmm." markton twitched his shoulders and put his pipe back in his mouth. “he might stay a long time,” markton finally observed. “he might,” ethel agreed. “or he might only stay a day or so.” “he might do that also.” “it’s a bit of a mystery, isn’t it?” “i suppose it is.” “everything is a bit of a mystery, isn’t it, when you get right down to it.” ethel changed the subject. “the hired man is standing at the window again, staring at me.” “you mean rabham? oh, he’s quite harmless. besides, how do you know he is staring at you particularly?” “i know that he is. would you mind going outside and speaking to him?” “oh, very well.” markton sat up, carefully knocked the ashes out of his pipe , and placed the pipe beside the ashtray on the low table beside the blue divan. with a slight groan, markton pushed himself up off the divan and went outside and confronted rabham. ethel watched them through the window. after a couple of minutes, markton turned and reentered the house, followed by the hired man. “rabham has a little sing he would like to sing to us,” markton announced. “really?” ethel asked. “yes, go ahead, rabham.” rabham took a deep breath, and standing erect as a soldier on parade, commenced to sing in a loud clear voice. king richard went out riding a-riding out one day he cut off friar bacon’s head and hid it in the hay maid marian went out walking with a white dove in her hand then rode upon king richard’s back until they reached the holy land king richard drew his iron sword and slew the heathen turk maid marian drank the good king’s health and then went back to work. “that was splendid, rabham, quite splendid indeed,” markton announced when the song was finished. “thank you, sir.” “would you care for a slice of seed cake?” “thank you, that's very kind of you, sir.” “just don’t eat it all,” ethel admonished rabham. “we have to save some for cousin stephen.”

the ribbon

as i was walking down the lane i met a man from peru and a lady from spain they accosted me in a civilized manner and asked me what was inscribed on my banner i wore a ribbon across my chest upholding the measures i thought best to improve the values of civilization in every human tribe and nation your sentiments do you credit, sir the man from peru with a smile averred do you find they meet with wide approval? my name by the way, is conrad duval mime is john smith, i replied my knowledge of the world is wide with it now succinctly distilled my destiny is fulfilled that destiny is to spread the truth to the living and the dead to solace those who endlessly weep and awaken those who endlessly sleep those who find me naively mystical and perhaps a bit egotistical may be assured i will never rest and will always do my best i awoke to a cold dawn and realized my hearers were gone and the man from peru and the lady from spain were only the wind and the rain

on a summer day

as i was dozing peacefully on a lazy summer day st peter pulled up in a pumpkin and asked me to cleveland the way i do not know about cleveland i answered with a shrug chicago is just down the road apiece but is filled with ugly mugs i know nothing about chicago the saint cried with alarm but i must find lawyer jefferson because pa has sold the farm pa has sold the farm, he repeated and a tear fell from his eye where st augustine and i were lads in the sweet bye and bye that is unfortunate, i told him and managed not to grin but such things happen every day in this fallen world of sin i wish i had a drink, he sighed of whiskey, beer, or gin his white beard waved as he pulled away and i never saw him again

every day is the end

you may not like it but it’s true i am a person just like you i am the greatest of all time so please throw me a lousy dime i vowed to conquer like alexander but my dreams were so much grander i had one mission from my birth and that was to bring peace on earth at first my path was rough and stormy nobody had any time for me no one cared what i had to say and went on their merry way but i perservered i grew a long black beard my eyes flashed fire and ice and i stopped playing nice where to begin? the world was filled with sin eyes were glazed, and hearts were cold armageddon had grown old i would sand on the corner and shout but the street tuned me out my feet got flat and my beard got gray and not a passerby looked my way i sat in my little room and decided to change my tune of all men i would be least and preach forgiveness and peace i stopped speaking and held a sign simply announcing the end of time i lost my menacing frown my blood pressure went down the present future and past were none of them built to last wanderer, take note we are all sinking in the same boat you may mot like it but it’s true i am a dreamer just like you if you pass me by some time throw me a lousy dime