Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to grow...


Wayne Mason

  Poet Laureate Of My Garage

  Buddha is
  in my garage
  his likeness
  that is

  Chipped, faded
  in lotus position
  impervious to the
  passing of time

  Eyelids half closed
  surrounded by old
  empty beer bottles
  meditating stoic

  Sitting blankly
  atop industrial shelf
  where other men
  would keep tools

  I’m hopelessly
  inadequate at
  manhood, more so
  being human

  Mans tools
  build walls
  and mine tear
  them down

  My tool is
  this pen and
  I use it like
  a pickaxe

  with it I am
  poet laureate
  of this garage
  watching squirrels
  scurry up and
  down the oaks


To purchase this chap-book click on the cover, or if you use PayPal add it to your orange shopping cart...

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