Ah so, Gus – Ah so, Hellen too

Ah so, Gus
Ah so, Hellen too
Back from Japan
What did you do?

Did you ride in a junk (or is it a sampan?)
Did you look up the good Tai Pai?
How did you enjoy
All those many days?

Did you eat a lot of sushi?
Did you see a temple high?
Did you watch Kabuki dancers
When their wild, wild hair did fly?

Does the music really tinkle?
Do the people bow a lot?
Did you have a comfy bed?
Or did you rest on a cot?

It seems so far away
JAPAN, Oh Me, Oh My!
How many flying hours
Did you send in the sky?

What is your favorite story?
Of this fabulous vacation
Would you go back again
Or have you totally filled your ration?

Where next will you travel?
When the chance occurs once more
Where does your fancy take you?
When you let your spirits soar?
August 1998


Such a subtle bitch

Have you ever played blackjack
I mean time and again?
Have you ever won?
Did it make you grin?

Other days
Did you lose and lose ?
Did it make you want
To give the deck a bruise?

How do you play black jack
I mean- if you do?
Do the odds sometimes
Look odd to you?

Do you play Vegas style
Or standard- yes which?
Both can be
Such a subtle bitch.

I’d rather be a horse

Have you ever had a day
When everything went wrong
One that got so very bad
You gave up and just went along?

A day when the coffee had no coffee
Just hot water pouring out
Where was the coffee?
Right then you had some doubts

Did your printer at the office
Refuse to print at all
Did the paper sorta lump up
Did it make you wanna bawl?

Was the mailman extremely late
Was the mail heavy as well?
What’s a person supposed to do
Throw up your hands and find a friend to tell?

Did the calls to your place
All sound like freaky in your ear
When it was time to go on home
Did you just wanna cheer?

I know you’ve had these kind of days
Everybody does, of course
They are so very tiring
I’d rather be a horse

But, then something happens
Puts a smile upon your face
Your heart feel less weighted down
Once again, things are in place.

He smoked a reefer But did not inhale

He smoked a reefer
But did not inhale
Some others do crimes
But never see jail

Still others bathe
But they wash not
Yet forget what they bought

Some go to school
But never learn
There are people who work
But never earn

There are those who pious
But they do not believe
And many cry
But few truly grieve

And some people write
And never stop
Thank God, there are
No “writing” cops

Pour good ole boys

Pour good ole boys
Met up out in New hampshire
Licked their lips, drew the line
Did a territorial dance, sir

All I remember
When those boys began to boast
Is that they regressed to much
Their values left for the coast

There they were on radio, probably TV as well
The other replied ,”no, it isn’t”
Things weren’t going very well.

So I shut them off
Been there- done that before
It’s a good thing I’m not their judge
For no one would have a score