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


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...