*SMART ASS ANSWER #2*

>> A truck driver was driving along on the freeway and noticed a sign that read: Low Bridge Ahead. Before he knows it, the bridge is right in front of him and his truck gets wedged under it. Cars are backed up for miles.
>> Finally a police car comes up. The cop gets out of his car and walks to the truck driver, puts his hands on his hips and says, 'Got stuck, huh?'
>> The truck driver says, 'No, I was delivering this bridge and I ran out of gas.'

Frequent Heartburn

Variations on Themes
by Pat Darnell, and, Sho Nuff
Bryan TX | 01.11.2010

Frequent heartburn
... comes to call
Every time a spuddin' boy
... knocks on this stall

He sees my collections
... of things big and tall
Then, right then, decides he is in
... "Hiddy Mr D; can I see that guitar?"

You men out there
... who got no daughter at all
Is luckiest men ... by far.

'Cause then in comes Slasher
... right behind is Emo, then Bingo
Followed by this kid Gungus Din.

It isn't too purty ... what and all
"Defy all moral maxims"
Them boys is durty
... this shape youth's in

Li'l sister introduces them
... tall one, Short one,
And this one here is Slim
Her brothers all shake their hands
Her brothers all nice to 'em
Then Daughter gets nicer yet !

Frequent heartburn sets in,
Please don't do me like that
Frequent heartburn again,
Betrays what d'em boys is at!

Yep it 'tis Daddy's
... frequent heartburn
That sets up in his craw'


And sure 'nuff goes to town
Daddy's daughters and all
... being nice to boys ...
... twistin'things all around,
Makin' Frequent Heartburn climb
... right off'n the wall,
... so unkind ... Humpty Dumpty it hurts!

Ohh, it hurts!
Say it ain't so!
Anyone have a  TUMS?
... eeeerrrruupppp ...
Oh my God
It burns... it burns
That's it ... I'm dyin'...
Be home by Ten!
__________________

BADMEN*
by Cole Porter, 1916

[Tenores:]
A thoro'ly roaring reckless lot in us you see.
We're everything that you would not desire to be.
All moral maxims we defy.
We gamble, swear and guzzle rye.
We are the pink of impropriety-ety-ety.

[Basses:]
Ha-ha! Ho-ho! What very wild oats we sow.
Ha-ha! Ho-ho! What terrible brutes we are.
Unheeding possible dangers,
We plunder innocent strangers.
Ha-ha! Ho-ho! Ha-ha! Ho-ho! Ha -ha!

[Tenores and Basses:]
Badmen, badmen, picturesquely clad men.
Badmen, badmen, dangerous as madmen.
Badmen, badmen, the world has seldom had men
So likely to hurt you,
So void of all virtue as we.
The very pink of impropriety are we.

*The original opening chorus. Manuscript in the Music division of the Library of Congress. Introduced by ensemble. No. 1 in the original sequence. (Kimball, Robert. 1992. pg 42, complete lyrics of cole porter, the)

__________________

Younger Sons of Peers*
by Cole Porter, 1916

We've a little secret to confess to you.
what we've been asserting isn't strictly true.
Don't be disappointed when you hear us say
That we are late arrivals in the U.S. A.
Don't be surprised
When we say we're aristocracy disguised.
Please believe your ears
When we tell you we are younger sons of peers
Sons of houses dated
From medieval years.
In Burke you'll find us rated
As younger sons of peers.
We're second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh,
Eigth, nine sons of peerless peers.
We're younger sons of England's most eminent peers.
Younger sons of English peers,
Younger sons of english peers.
'Three cheers!

*This number, the Revelation Chorus of Badmen, might have been the second part of the original opening chorus. Manuscript at the Library of Congress. It might have been deleted before the New York opening. No. 2 in the original sequence. (Kimball, Robert. 1992. pg 43, complete lyrics of cole porter, the)

Long Fingers, by Jayne D'Arcy

Long fingers
Tripping
Over strings of metal

Weaving music
From some other
Plane
Of existence

The Holiest of Holies
Radiates
From his face

Shhh
Listen

-- Original poem written for Poetry Geist

Illustration

Pan Historia: "What do you do to make yourself write when you just feel like doing nothing?"




Pat Darnell:  I paint... then live then write then eat then sleep, then live, then write...


i have faith now in my elderly-ness that the time to write will come around, regardless of self-loathing, or anxiety ... so a computer to write on is my heaven sent 24\7\365 partner.

My next written word is a horizon to the East
... and while I wait for the sun to rise
feel sand 'tween my toes, snow falls tenderly to the beach
... turn myself to live the Seagulls' cries

:: there, an impromptu 13\9\13\9 verse for you guys... .. Okay?

Lassoing the Hurricane

by Pat Darnell

I lassoed a hurricane
Whose name was arcane
Not Bob, Lance or Jayne
Rather every tit, tat and tweedle
of the Mormon-like Bible people
it came to pass, ordained.

And my tender tongue
dry from salted wheat
drives me ever up further
on Aqua d' Puzzo Creek.

The Twelve Days of Wisdom

by Pat Darnell

-- "TWELVE T-Mister-Virtual MOHAWK GRENADES..."
-- one plus ten Mercedes Benz
-- Ten Commercializing Marketeers ---
-- Nine 2009 YouTube Magical Parades...
-- Eight Emotive Rambles, of Votive Ambition ...
-- Seven Works in Progress ...
-- Six Slap Bass Jazz-ists ....


-- Five clever Elves a-Leaping ...


-- Four girls from Hyndsver ...
-- Three non-French-made farm implements ...
-- two Rocket--Men,


-- and a labile Dan-de-li-on on a breeze ..."