MORE POETRY



This page was designed to house the poetry that I've written over the last 25 years.


THE BLACK HAT WAS LYING

the black hat was lying
on the old pine table
cold rain was splashing
on the window
a lone lamp was flickering
and only the springs on the bed
could be heard

the woman made love
for the money
the man robbed banks
for the thrill
neither was very happy

outside
the wind was howling
coyotes were growling
and lightning struck a tree
roses hid like tightened fists
dripping rain
like sweat

back in the cabin
a mouse that haunted the kitchen
looking for cheese
stopped and sat
checking the hat

the black hat was lying
on the old pine table
enjoying a brief respite
from a difficult life
riding an outlaw's head


THE ONE LEGGED PIGEON AND ME

sitting in a tree
the one legged pigeon
and me
can hardly be told apart

we are told
we're wasting it
while others are tasting it
but the pigeon and me
we laugh


BUTLER METHODIST CHURCH

Butler
Methodist
Church
has long black gloves
and many handy items
rummaged
products of Christian countries
for sale
God bless them one and all
and every good member
stands ready
to serve
to answer
to obey
your every need
wanting & waiting
only to hear
"Well done,
good
and
faithful
servant."


HUEY, DEWEY AND OF COURSE LOUIE

when I was a child
I spoke as a child
understood as a child
thought as a child
but sometimes
I put away childish things
and became a duck
fourth nephew
(once removed)
of Mr. Donald Duck
to be exact
life was lovely
simple and colorful
you might say it was ducky
Huey, Dewey and of course Louie
and me
off on a thousand adventures
doing good woodchuck deeds
how could I know
we would play
into an adult's nightmare
because Mr. Walt
had a fault
he could be a regular scrooge
dreaming of perfect plastic workers
and perfect plastic order
in a perfect plastic world of tomorrow
so I left behind
my three duck brothers
but someday
when I expect it least
I'll beconme a duck again
with Huey, Dewey and of course Louie


MY BODY

my body flies over the ocean
my body slides under the sea
nobody buys out of devotion
bring back something for free

bring a sax
bring a sax
bring back something for free
for free
bring a sax
bring a sax
bring back a sax just for me
just for me

my pontiac glides into motion
it's gone a hundred 'n three
nobody drives out of devotion
bring back my pontiac please

on the rack
bring it back
bring back my body for me
for me
bring a jack
fix my flat
please fix my fla-at for free
hee hee


poetry: copyright 1995 - Bill Weir

illustration: copyright 1995 - Denise Weir


A POEM FOR JERRY

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