Dear God, have a heart—
How bare
this
Wretched sandlot looks;
Where are all those
Ragtag tatterdemalion holy
Terrors that once played
Their ragged hearts out?
Scroll down your answer—
I know you know, stop
Tearing me apart.
new old kid on the blog, with an occasional old or new poem written off the old writer's block
Dear God, have a heart—
How bare
this
Wretched sandlot looks;
Where are all those
Ragtag tatterdemalion holy
Terrors that once played
Their ragged hearts out?
Scroll down your answer—
I know you know, stop
Tearing me apart.
Flighty one, wait
Long enough to see
Your name in lights,
And you’ll miss
Every curtain call
Save the last
Dance for me,
Hack.
Leaf through these
Moth-eaten pages
At your leisure if you will;
Just make sure you
Leave no holes, no
Blanks and no
New leaf turning
Over one more over-worked
Turning point of no
Return after another,
You got that?
Good.
Never a light task
To put down
Whatever dark matter is
Grieving you—
Heavier even the thought
Of how to carry it out.
Deep down thinking
Tells me just maybe
My life’s been spent facetiously
Wallowing in the muddle
Of a clearly shallow pool
Of stagnant water; perhaps
It’s time
I tried dredging this mighty
Fearsome puddle;
No more drudge, no bother, no
More hollering, mum’s the word
Seriously, that’s the only path left
To follow—
Would you care to join me
In this noble endeavor, oh
Fearless, humble lost fellow caller?
RSVP@suchtoungueincheek.com