What's all this about wanting
Peas on Earth all the time?
What's wrong with corn, or carrots?
Why don't we ever wish for "World Broccoli!"?
Or ask our children for a little "Cucumbers
Why is it, when we're troubled,
we never pray for "Inner Apricots"?
How did this incredible obsession
It might just be, however:
that if everybody gardened;
they'd all get along
with most of their neighbors.
© Elas Giordano 1995
that what he called
the rest of us referred to as
I don't wish to upset
but in this light
with that hair...
I may have a
© Elas Giordano 1995
The signature on this one is Opal Hendricksen. That’s all I know about it, except to say that it’s very funny. And even though I’m a man I get it. Others who read it laugh all the way through. It must be one of those universals.ODE TO A MAMMOGRAM
For years ’n years they told me;
“Be careful of your breasts.
Don’t ever squeeze or bruise them,
And give them monthly tests.”
So I heeded all their warnings
And protected them by law…
Guarded them very carefully,
And always wore a bra.
After 30 years of careful care
The doctor found a lump.
He ordered up a mammogram
To look inside that clump.
“Stand up very close.” she said,
As she got my boob in line,
“And tell me when it hurts,” she said,
“Ah yes! There! That’s just fine”.
She stepped upon a peddle…
I could not believe my eyes!
A plastic plate was pressing down…
My boob was in a vice!
My skin was stretched ’n stretched
From way up by my chin,
And my poor boob was being squashed
To Swedish pancake thin!!
“Take a deep breath,” she said to me.
Who does she think she’s kidding?
My chest is smashed in her machine,
I can’t breathe and woozie I’m getting.
“There, that was good.” I heard her say
As the room was slowly swaying,
“Now let’s get the other one.”
“Lord, have mercy,” I was praying.
It squeezed me from the up and down.
It squeezed me from both sides.
I’ll bet she’s never had this done
To her tender little hide!
If I had no problem when I came in,
I surely have one now…
If there had been a cyst in there,
It would have popped, KER-POW!!!
This machine was made by man,
Of this I have no doubt…
I’d like to get his balls in there,
For months he’d go “without”.
My frugal mother used to keep,
For Crepe D'Chine, our "tomless" kitty,
A chopped-up stash. It kept him pretty.
One day a very British guy,
A friend of Dad's from work, came by.
Crepe approved, so when he sat,
Zap! The chap's lap was full of cat
"Lovely cat," murmured our English guest,
Stroking Crepie's side.
"What do you feed him, if I might ask?"
"Beef heart," my mother replied.
"Sounds frightfully insubstantial,"
Opined the British gent,
"Unless, of course, the bee were HUGE,
And EXTREMELY flatulent!"
Copyright; Tad Lawson
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.
Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,
it seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
and some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell you, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean.
My fist got hard and my wits got keen.
Roamed from town to town to hide my shame,
but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the honky tonks and bars and kill
that man that gave me that awful name.
But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had
just hit town and my throat was dry.
I'd thought i'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon in a street of mud
and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty,
mangy dog that named me Sue.
Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
from a worn-out picture that my mother had
and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old
and I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
and I said, "My name is Sue. How do you do?
Now you're gonna die." Yeah, that's what I told him.
Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down
but to my surprise he came up with a knife
and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair
right across his teeth. And we crashed through
the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging
in the mud and the blood and the beer.
I tell you I've fought tougher men but I really can't remember when.
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laughin' and then I heard him cussin',
he went for his gun and I pulled mine first.
He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile.
And he said, "Son, this world is rough and if
a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
and I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave you that name and I said 'Goodbye'.
I knew you'd have to get tough or die. And it's
that name that helped to make you strong."
Yeah, he said, "Now you have just fought one
helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you've
got the right to kill me now and I wouldn't blame you
if you do. But you ought to thank me
before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit
in your eye because I'm the nut that named you Sue."
Yeah, what could I do? What could I do?
I got all choked up and I threw down my gun,
called him pa and he called me a son,
and I came away with a different point of view
and I think about him now and then.
Every time I tried, every time I win and if I
ever have a son I think I am gonna name him
Bill or George - anything but Sue.