Endgame

John

This is the story of pauvre John,

Irretrievably gone. He's gone.

Put on this planet to screw and know,

Now he goes where the angels go.

Went to Oakland when he was young

To cure his hang-ups. And he was hung.

It did no good. But when he came back

He preached the knowledge the Schiffies lack.

Very nasty and very vain,

He trod the ground of the sugar cane

With his little cloven feet.

Even that didn't make him sweet.

He loved to lie in a daisy chain

In the meadow beside a tarn.

Make a blunder and with disdain

He'd nail you to the old red barn.

1-27-14

 

Rene

Poor baby, storm and strife

Hound his misbegotten life,

His troubled psyche since he was two,

Held together with tape and glue.

In search of a friend, a lover, a wife,

He'll walk the hell all over you.

1-27-14

 

Endgame

Desperate and needy -

I feel a little greedy -

I've written all my poesy -

I'm nearly 68.

My vocabulary dwindles.

All I've sold is Kindles.

And now there's nothing left in me

To write about but fate.

I edit and I glean

The books that I have written

And haven't got them printed yet.

Once my verse was good.

1-26-14

If you like my poems, I have some books on Amazon, both paper back and Kindle.  The paper backs are mostly $10 or less, the Kindles mostly $1.  To see them, go to Amazon, click on Books on the drop down, and then type Joseph Hart Poetry in the search bar.