As a songwriter, I sometimes have thoughts or ideas that wouldn't particularly make a good song. This is the outlet for that stuff...

Thursday, November 22, 2012


I climbed the field-stones

That perforated the edge of the patchy

Worn lawn

In front of the white

Barn-like tabernacle

I was too restless to sit inside on the

Slatted pine benches

My feet wouldn't reach the gray

Concrete floor

But through the wide screens

I could see paper fans

Like whitecaps

In a sea of beehive hairdos

The ebb and the flow of the

Evangelist's prose

Distorted the tinny speakers

Mounted under the eaves

For those

On blankets and lawn chairs

Preferring the breeze to the

Shoulder by shoulder press

Of the faithful

Basting in suits and long dresses

I knew the crescendo

The song leader rose

The organ began with

“Just As I Am”

The fisher of men cast

His net

Between verses

Every head bowed and every eye


I knew that the song would be sung

One more time

Then the screen door would yawn

And soon we'd be walking the black-oiled

Dirt road

To the snack bar for sherbet

Under the yellow floodlight

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Popular Science

We discovered self-esteem

In our psychological

Blood stream

And like a vitamin deficiency

Everyone's was low

But that was fine

Because if yours was


We didn't like you much anyhow

We discovered killer bees

Swarming from Brazil

And we would soon

Be sandwiched in between

Anthophagous rage

And an impending ice age's glacial stream

I wondered if this would happen

Before I became a victim

Of spontaneous human combustion

Or a UFO abduction