Podunk

I don't have no fancy clothes.

I wear work boots and camouflage.

Ain't got no sissy hybrid car,

just a pickup truck in the garage.

I got an assault rifle and two shotguns

and my trusty huntin' knife.

I'm just sittin here in Podunk

defendin' my way of life.

My Trump bumper stickers are the only thing

holdin' my truck together.

Got a tarp over the hole in my roof

to keep out the rainy weather.

I shoot groundhogs to feed my kids.

My second cousin is my wife.

I'm just sittin' here in podunk

defendin' my way of life. - Jeff Barnes

Page 29

We only speak in the language of possums

and do not concern ourselves with human affairs.

The westward sun touches the tops of the blossoms

and we talk of nothing as we sit on the porch stairs.

We bask in the fading day's lukewarm heat

and feel nothing, though we keep smiling.

Ghosts of children dance in the street

and sing songs that are almost beguiling.

Indian music floats out of someone's window,

the sweet sounds of a sitar and a tampura.

In the distance the sound of a backhoe

fades out like the setting sun's aura.

I went to the place where they buried Mom's ashes

but could no longer detect where they dug the hole.

A ladybug walks across your upper eyelashes

as the wind bangs a chain against a flagpole.

In the lot next door I see a grasshopper jumping.

The evening clouds begin to turn gray.

I open my mouth and start to say something

but the force of silence buries my words away. - Jeff Barnes

In the Grocery Store Parking Lot

The rickety old pickup truck

sits like a relic,

facing us from the

opposite parking space.

The red part of its

Confederate flag license plate

has faded to the color

of Donald Trump's face. - Jeff Barnes

Returns

Returns

Hollywood turns out movies

and sequels by the score.

You say you liked Batman?

Well, here's Batman 2, 3, and 4.

After a concert is over

we stand and yell for an encore.

No matter what it is we like

we always seem to want more.

Hell, we couldn't even stop

after a single world war.

Can there be a return of sanity?

That's the only thing I wish for. - Jeff Barnes

Gizmo

His fur,

a pure white aura,

augments his face

like the mane

of an albino lion.

His eyes,
blue gemstones,

glow like tropical waters

under the light

of the sun.

Afternoons

he takes his rest,

savors the comfort

of the pillows

in his basket.

Dozing,

he knows that all

is as it should be

in his demesne

protected by Bastet. - Jeff Barnes

Bedroom

My childhood bedroom was a wonderland

of stuffed animals and miniature cars,

Little Golden books and records

and plastic men from Mars,

drawing pads and crayons

and stacks of comic books.

In between two chests of drawers

I had a little reading nook.

The monster models on my shelves

always gave me a fright.

I could swear I saw them move

after Mom turned off the light.

My best times were spent holed up

in my insulated, magical place.

I wished I could detach it from the house

and fly it off into outer space. - Jeff Barnes

Dodgy Knob

He'll blind you with the glare

from his spotty bald head.

His shifty little eyeballs

are beady and red.

He comes from a family

that's thoroughly inbred.

Pray he keeps his shoes on

for he has stinky feet,

a piping little voice

like a newborn lamb's bleat,

and despite all this

he is full of conceit.

He seeks out new prey

in the personal ads.

He abandoned his girlfriend

and the children they had.

He doesn't even know

that he is a grandad.

He's got a microhead

that looks more like a node.

He drives an egg-shaped car

up and down the road.

He's got more poison glands

than the average cane toad. - Jeff Barnes