Archive for February, 2011


Posted: 02/27/2011 in house of love, house of women

he left mama a goodbye note

all typed out

like somethin from the post-dispatch.

i heard him pickin out the keys

real careful–


tck tck


we lived upstairs then,

and mama, who’d been listenin all the while

growled,  jumped outta bed,

ran in there and threw that damn typewriter out the window.

it landed on his green buick,

right on the hood…

it stalled and he yelled up,

what’d you go and do that for?

while his engine went


tck tck


and he had to stay.


Posted: 02/25/2011 in house of fools, house of love

you made like to throw the ball

and rexie flew out of his feet goin after it

but you palmed it

and laughed til you coulden breathe when he

stopped cold and looked all around like a doofus for it.

i said, congratulations asshole,

you are smarter than the dog.

you said, baby, you know i love ya,

come gimme some sugar and i’ll show ya.

i did and then waited, lookin all around

but by then, even the dog knew

how full of shit you really were.

shouldn’t go to you

when you don’t come to me

but i do.

shouldn’t say to you

what you don’t say to me

but i do.

shouldn’t wish on stars

that i can’t get myself

but i never can, never could,

just can’t help myself…

shouldn’t love you

if you don’t love me

but i do.

for One Shot Wednesday


Posted: 02/20/2011 in house of change, house of women

knew this gal sherry had her grand dad livin with ’em.

he just sit on the davenport watchin baseball and

smokin like a talkin factory that says,

don’t sucker on that outside pitch, dumbass.

then he chuckle and cough and wipe his hand across his mouth.

every once in while sherry’s mom smack him with the

tv guide, and tell him

don’t cuss around the girls, shithead.

he finally lose a lung and after that he tilted.

he get up to fetch a new pack of chesterfields and he look like

a boat goin down.

at the end he sit and smoke with this divin tank next to him–

every so often sherry’s mom swat him and say,

you gonna blow us all into the next county,

but he dint.

one day he just weren’t there no more

like that dumbass batter

who kept suckerin on the bad pitch

and got sent down

to where he ain’t on the tv

and the games go on

without him.

dumbass jesus

Posted: 02/17/2011 in house of fools

he walked out on the water

like some dumbass jesus,

holdin up a bottle of bud

like it was a tablet with the

holy lunch menu on it.

it had got warm the last couple days,

and he fell through the ice

with a sound like god done got sick of him

and just shot his  butt.

when his cousins finally pulled him out

by a rope

tied to a pick up truck,

he were colder’n a landlord’s smile

but he could still move just enough

to pump his fist once

like he just won

the Kentucky Derby of stupid.


Posted: 02/15/2011 in house of women

god sees when you do bad, mama said.

does not,  i said.

does. god sees everything.

this was bad news and didn’t care for it.

then i don’t like god, i said.

i’ll give god a bloody nose.

can’t, said mama.

your arms are too short.

jenny at school say

it’s against the rules.

jenny say

i’m gonna tell.

but jenny ain’t god.

guess how i know?

for One Shot Wednesday


Posted: 02/12/2011 in house of fools, house of love

in the frig’ door

there’s mayo.

gives it up easy at first

sweet and smooth

like it would never run out.

but at the end

got to work harder

just to get less–

so do i fight for the last bit

or toss it out with some still in?

you’re mayo, darlin,

an old sweet thing

all full of empty.


Posted: 02/11/2011 in house of strangers

in dresses and pinchy shoes

sis and i crossed the road to church

where grand dad lester’s viewing was.

he looked fake.

auntie pat grab sis’s hand, say, touch him.

she did, but i kicked auntie pat and ran.

later, around dinnertime, there was a wedding

at the church with

a happy bride and


for G Man’s flash 55


Posted: 02/08/2011 in house of love

had a dog

liked to sleep all day

passed out

nothin move but the feet,


but mama say he knew my name

and when he hear it

got springs in his feet

jumpin out of his skin for joy.

mostly i feel passed out and lazy

nothin move but the heart


but i love your name

and when i hear it

whenever you’re near

got a spring in my step

jump out of my shoes for joy.

for One Shot Wednesday

stylish blogger award

Posted: 02/05/2011 in Uncategorized

mama zen has given me the stylish blogger award. well thanks, ma joad. more stuff to jam into the double wide someplace. but mama always taught me to be polite. if i wasn’t, she walloped me good and my ears rang for a week. so, thank you, ma’am.

i am supposed to reveal seven things about myself. i don’t see a pole, so it won’t be any of those things, dudes. let me think. ow, i hate thinking before noon. okay, here goes. lump it or leave it. first cat was named little black sambo. hey, i was a kid, the cat was black, and the story had tigers in it.

2. my first bass player, and for a while, boyfriend, managed to stab himself in the leg playing mumblypeg. it got infected and now he’s got a fake leg. it hurts like a b if he kicks you with it, so i try to stay out of range when i see him.

3. band managers aren’t honest. (face palm)

4. i haven’t passed out on stage since 2002. okay, i’m starting to see why i got this award.

5. my last gig, the spread backstage was franco-american mac and cheese in cans, an opener, and a hot plate. We opened the cans and threw it on the suck-ups in the front row.

6. we opened once for the captain and tenille. in 2007. i think the captain has been lobotomized or something. but toni was walking around bossing everybody and wearing this hideous gown so i asked her if it was dry yet from washing the dishes with it cos it was ugly enough and small enough to be a dishrag and nobody wants to see your old-ass bod anyway and so we got into a fight right before i was supposed to go out and sing. the guys jammed for five minutes before i came out, wearing one shoe and with a bloody nose. after that, some of our hard core fans started painting red under their noses with nail polish before our gigs. tenille could hardly sing cos i broke a couple of her ribs with my guitar. why did i get this award again? 

7. diet-rite cola sucks. i drank some once cos it was about a hundred in the shade when we played little rock folk festival outdoors and i had to drink something or i couldn’t sing. the stuff is nasty, worse than huffing endust. anyway, as soon as the promoters realized we don’t play folk they pulled us off and we had to pay our own way home. our drummer shot a firework into their tent as we were leaving. it caught on fire and we passed the mayberry f.d. as we floored it out of little rock.