Tag: Okay

Sideshow Shrub I

One fine day
in east upper Tennessee’s Bitch Holler,
I came across a shrubbery
who deferred to me on every dang decision I made.
I mean, I assume it did.
It never actually told me so,
I just figured it had that kind of vibe.

Based on that recommendation
from my local cosmic ombudsman
regarding the malice factor (or lack thereof),
I scooped down and started
collecting this fine specimen by the roots
as tenderly as a mongrel like myself possibly could.
I more likely than not snapped a good few
tendril roots, and for that
I apologized profusely all the way home.

The burlap sack smudged dirt
all over the passenger’s seat of my
monkeyshit brown ’89 Corolla. ‘Twas then
that I surmised it could go no other way
if I wanted to get my karmic alignment
back into okay shape.

And not much time had not elapsed before
I realized the beauty of lugging around
genuine Bitch Holler dirt
in my beat-up and grimy ol’ import.

The Bellwether

To the chagrin of the motorbiking penguin-flipper, we carry old prairie weights for a regardless happenstance. Well, regardless, we’re quite unkempt for the situation–the scenario, if we will. But it’s okay, we’re all living some version of this or any other truths, not to be degraded for any reason or purpose.

The bellwether, or weather of bells–as I’d sometimes rather say–has stood in direct opposition to the canine point of equilibrium separating our ancestors from the ravenous wolves who once stormed down our doors for even just a hint of carnage. But times change. People grow and domesticate those pesky sheep they’d once only counted prior to slumber, involuntarily offering a small portion of their flocks to satisfy the taxation meted out by the gods that our dogs only wish they could be.