Showing posts with label horse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horse. Show all posts

Sunday, July 7, 2019

070719b


Crazy Horse Runs for President


Claims ungulates need more rights,
They should get their turn to ride,
Better food!
Spurs outlawed!
(Ok, fine)
But he goes too far:
Overtime pay!
Designer style in footgear!
(Prada nailed over the door?)
Leather? No!
No lamb or mutton!
And no Jamaica food!
That really gets my goat.

Sunday, May 19, 2019

051919c


Crazy Horse Runs for President


Claims ungulates need more rights,
They should get
their turn to ride,
Better food!
Spurs outlawed!
(Ok, fne)
But he goes too far:
Overtime pay!
Designer style in footgear!
(Prada nailed over the door?)
Leather? No!
No lamb or mutton!
And no Jamaican food!
That really gets my goat.




If you like this::poem, why not check out the collection in which it was published,, Metastable Systems:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/760901
 

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

010218


The Edible Zoo, an illustrated poetry book for small children. Play-tested by two daughters & 12 niecephews. $8 postpaid, paypal to jopnquog@gmail.com or check to David Kopaska-Merkel, 1300 Kicker, Tuscaloosa AL 35404. Sample poem:


Horse-radish Sandwich


When the munchies come to call,
I’ll eat anything at all,
But my very favorite dish,
Is a horse-radish sand-a-wich.

I love to nosh on lady fingers,
Cos their fancy flavor lingers,
On a cruder plane or not,
Corn dogs really hit the spot,
But when I’m King I will decree,
Horse-radish sandwiches for me!

Hot dogs are a fave of mine,
Although I hate the fur,
And for catfish oft I pine,
Specially when they purr,
Still my favorite dish of all,
Horse-radish sandwich has it all!

What I’ll readily admit is,
I think by now you’ve guessed it,
What I love the most is,
A tasty, furry, maned and curried,

horse-
radish
sandwich!




Friday, December 23, 2016

122316



GM Steed


Centipede, the 40-legged horse, raced up the cliff. Jones, white-knuckled, squinted into the wind. They were topside in moments. The Count raised his … Centipede’s vorpel mandibles snicker-snacked; blood and a mustachioed head arced. Jones wiped his face.

Dammit, Centipede, I needed to talk to him!”

Sssorry.”