Free Odds

I went to college
So I could stay home.
Make biscuits, can okra,
And change the baby.
As a southern man I find this puzzling.

When fishing,
I worry about work.
When working,
I worry about fish.
Behold: the jackass!

Irony is everywhere.
Even the sad clown is guffawing.
My daughter of fifteen months
Knows precisely how to love.
Yet at thirty-six, I’m clueless.

Why then, O Lord, hast Thou
Afflicted me with Ambition
So greater than my Talent?
What is this, a Joke?
Hey Christ! Don’t bogart the Cup!

Albert, he say
God don’t roll no dice.
Well, maybe.
He rolls a fine joint, though—
The biggest in the multiverse.

See, I’ve been trained to beat your chest
Until a doctor can be found
To declare you dead.
Which'd be a buzz-kill, except
I’ve had one save:

An alcoholic who quit drinking.
His medication made him seize
And stopped his breath.
So we whaled on him, until
Living grew easier than dying.

I also have five fishing rods,
Three kayaks, two rifles,
A truck, a tractor,
Parents, brothers, daughter, and a good woman.
My wealth embarrasses me.

I don’t know the score,
Or who’s got the stopwatch.
But I’ve figured out a rule:
The least likely, is, now.
(A small price for such a good seat.)


—GR8FLED