Resolution 62 : I Want To Be Slim

The auto club is driving me--
and, we're going back to slim's gym--
Once a vicious cycle building who married eats and drinks
let a blue bird plane him down with the buzzing of the Lord

Highly enthusiastic I am now
mostly with my auto club growing old
as everything new springing forth out of life
is the run of the mill being ripped and skinnied,
slimmed and trimmed like a cedar board

lightly and surreptitiously, a sanding by the finger of God
in Spirits of the old mill stream--smoker clouds
Fire and water milling a plank
while the drumming saws take it to sated but elated souls

They turn me over like an engine with a crank
and I can prove I am starting
when my hungry old fat man burns the buffet,
goes and tells the ham and burger kings
that slim like Jim still grows on him

Yeh, the auto club is driving--
and, we're going to slim's gym--
Again, a vicious cycle building who married ate and drank
lets a blue bird plane him down with the buzzing of the Lord.. 
©2011 Gary Ottoson |  To Slim Cessna's Auto Club , December 30, 2011

The Sky Blew Up, #15

Red lips, cute nose, just right for wee bear
My hair flaxen golden should never grow old
in the virgin time warp of bear Eden's chair
Bear Venus too hot and Mars bear is too cold

But, once upon a time while whistling a song,
a bright Boa beside me his tattoo the Tree
Oh, could I have sensed that his motive was wrong?
While he strummed Oh, Suzanna the banjo was me

Oh, he'll hire my husband - Oh, he loves my name,
my Goldilocks flowing the way it does fall
His words are like gods Ronald Reagan's the same
are not the word written in rock on this wall

The bowl about clean, well, so sweet the porridge!
I crashed with the Boa like a star in a loft
Yikes! Gather my clothes! God the bears in the forest!
(The radio blaring Tebow and Newt
with a brain like a blender to top it all off)
Then I ran out the back and up the sky blue..

O,  baby, the moral is I ought to stay
away from the Boa man he is too strong
The bears in the forest are moving today
with the sky blew up, I am moving along
A taste of sweet porridge and singing my songs...
©2011 Gary Ottoson | ..♫♫.......♫♫♫♫♫...♫♫...

Attention!

Two single-shots are loaded, liquor rusting on your lap
So where'd you get blast holes through the sole of your boot strap?
Death emits a mystery stench like searing cordite scars
I see you wanna rise up now, so stand right where you are!

Old man, while losing lots of blood a fresh supply is drawn,
cleansing to you onward flowing reddish streaks of dawn
Wounds your carnal weapons from this conversation on

One nearby great physician has a gentle shepherd staff
He powers the icy darkness swirling arms of Alderaan

Release the single-shots, Sir, let's blow off Golden Pond,
the loons, and offspring angry at their Father all day long
Could either of us miss it when we're gone?
Could either of us miss it when we're gone?
©2011 Gary Ottoson | To Col. RJP, 3rd Marines