Tattoos in Mayberry

44,867 poems read

Who can say,
It might work out best
to get off  this well treaded
path.
The path to grow up boy 
Press on through hard rain and snow.
Put down stakes
or hit the road.
Work calloused  fingers 
to the bone.
buy a fast shiny car.
To make some girls
pick out that wonderful one,
who feels so good on your arm.
help her raise her babies.
Drive the kids to or from School.
Go all in at work to
press and launder all your clothes
to keep the boss happy. so you can
keep putting the food on the table.
pay the insurance on the mortgage
Who hasn't thought about
going astry,
and just walking or running away.

Maybe rent  an old shack.
stand watch in the back
A trap door entrance
a fence like a haystack.
 an unpublished number
to ward off the cranks
Be hard to pin down
even harder to reach..
After saving a few dollars
travel to Oregon.
Start over fresh.
raise up some hogs
plant a grove of trees
Harvest them big time
in about ten or twelve years
plant a bunch more. 
Tend goats and a few chickens.
Dig a spillway  to farm Tilapia.
Live off the grid.
Harmlessly flirt
 with travelling
circus and rodeo gals
at county fairs,
Be convincing enough to
get a few to ponder
how their days and 
nights might be 
with a man like me
in it.

Date all those healthy farm girls
trolling farmer date lines
looking to hook-up
with  good Oregon farm
boys not unlike their daddy.

.
keep an extra room with a spare 
set of keys 
for short term guests on
those special occasions

Live off the fat
on your own
tract of land.
Save up real money
get a square deal on a the biggest
truck one can legally buy
with heavy duty suspension,
customized monster truck tires.
Burn a multi-colored
tattoo
to get in tight with the bikers
employing them for muscle
when in need of a favor.
Take a second job in town.
Co-manage a hooters
or a Cheesecake Factory
Be rumored now and then
to pack a loaded revolver.
Garner community support
doing volunteer work 
at the local food shelf/ shelter
further padding the resume
for when running for Mayor.
Passing out  personally
engraved novelty items 
to local codgers,
draft dodgers,
and those
little old 
and young ladies
before polling time 
reminding them 
not to keep your campaign
for change a secret.
If things ever get too dicey
Skip town
rent a P.O Box
have only the good mail forwarded
Visit France on a passport
 love there is always in season
Where Mon Cheri  from Paris's
waiting
for me.
until drifting our separate ways.
Since, who can really be trusted
with  dangerous secrets
whispered during passionate embraces
to  be spread later on, through loose lips..

This to me is the twenty first century safety dance.
It's convenient,
it's modern humane
 where there are second and third chances.
It's the new I'm not finished adjusting yet.
And, I may never be ready for anything but being
  a millenial pain in the ass.
It's not that I'm thriving for too little
or being a slacker
It's just  I'm up to my neck in
competitive crackers.
Sign me  up for a carribean or 
Icelandic earth mama
I don't care.
Who'd be there to cheefully hand wash our clothes,
be my common law wife.
We could take a shower in our clothes
at the end of the night.
then kiss to be clever until
our clothes get dried on the line.
roast turkey and fish
for dinner.
Flapjacks at Sunrise.
We'd recycle all our plastic
and paper.
after each and every meal.
What a sweetheart of a deal.
Maroon them like captive quarry
Make like too pleasant and easy
for them  to run astray
from my poximate haze.
Until growing tired of the same one
and two act play.
After all, like the Sun,
they're not my personal property.
I must share
like my first love, my mother did with me
couldn't lock them in my crypt,
 that wouldn't be care.
Mother told me
I can do much but
I can't give to you all your basic human needs.
But, mother washed my dishes
bought my clothes.
Paid the rent, and insurance
without complaint
Spoke only when spoken to 
in soothing tones
Even as I grew  up 
mom kissed me on my cheek
even unshaven
holding me steady 
stroking my forehead like a baby
reminding me 
'don't ever change, Son,
God loves you. just the way you are.'.
Mother co-signed all my loans.
Some of them bad.
How could suitors live up to that
A tall order for any paramours.
So, if my lovers
 tire of me
My policy is to grant a reprieve.
You petition the committee
for an early release.
What good would it do
to try to do more than to
throw up your hands
then exchange parting gifts.
I I guess, if I
have to be honest
It's not imppossible to imagine one day
my lover washing their hands of me.
Like when I'm half asleep
and I stink like a goat 
forget to put up the toilet seat,  
or as a sleep walking rebel who
inadvertantly,
takes a leak in
and around her sink
And only clean up his side of the street
every 2-5 years.
I'd understand being in search of
a nobler brand than in
which to breed.

Some men perservere to the end.
they won't give up, they never quit,
giving 110% until death, they depart.
I need a written guarantee  . 
I have one life.
Too important to me to throw it down
a bottomless cavern 
An unltimate sacrifice to clan and race as a gift of thanks for creating me
my clan and race may be asking too much
having no say in the matter of my birth.
To me their destiny is noble  from distance
I am no hero. I stay out of the fray.
If you want my contribution
I will be taking up space in my lounge chair 
in your bleacher seats for slackers.
giving the raspberry to your honor guard.


All Rights Reserved As Is By Author.

Buddy Bee Anthony













Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Raspberry`s to Your Honor Guard.