POETRY Reading: DON'T LISTEN TO HARRY, by Wayne E. Johnson
POETRY READINGS
•
1m 31s
Don’t Listen to Harry, by Wayne E. Johnson
Business was slow,
I had nothing to do.
I sat in my office,
Tying my shoe.
I sat there in silence,
And stared at the clock.
And wished it were Friday,
Or at least 12 o’clock.
Too early for lunch,
Too late for a break.
I tapped on my desk,
No decisions to make.
So all I could do,
Was to sit, sit, sit, sit!
Put my feet on the desk,
And not give a…crap.
Then something went bump!
My chair crashed to the floor.
I looked up and saw Harry,
Peeking in through the door.
“Let’s take early lunch,
Don’t lie there like that.
Let’s go to that men’s club,
The Cat in the Hat.”
“The beers are twelve dollars,”
I said with a frown.
“But the girls,” Harry said,
“Are the best ones in town.”
“They have one named Sally,
At The Cat in the Hat,
Who spins both her tassels,
One this way, one that.”
“She does quite a pole dance,
I’m happy to say,
Will leave your head numb,
For the rest of the day.”
“She’ll give you a lap dance,
For ten dollars more,
We’ll have lots of fun,
So get up off the floor.”
Up Next in POETRY READINGS
-
Poetry Reading: Drop me off in the Wi...
Performed by Val Cole
Drop Me Off in the Wilderness
1
Drop me off in the wilderness
By the river shore where we were before
By the abandoned shack by the railroad track
Slow down and I’ll jump out the door
And find my own way back, I guess,
From the valley of excess
And the Land of 10,000 Dan... -
Poetry Reading: DEATH, by FERNANDO MA...
Performed by Val Cole
DEATH, by FERNANDO MAGELA DA SILVA
From my most unbreakable certainty, I worship my most
visceral doubt, the legacy of death, day by day, in
seconds that drag on through my time, and to his
throne, now I am attentive, now I am carelessDeath seems fair to me, it does not...
-
POETRY Reading: A Mourning Hug for Jo...
A Mourning Hug for John Mendelssohn
A glowing day
hell-orange
Nimbostratus cloud
hovers here,
choking everything,
from plants to crows
to this disillusioned woman
as a hard wind
whips the cloying air,
from Northern California,
taunting an already-battered heart.
This time last year
I ...
