Mythos

Monstrous Beast
By GC SMITH

Fire breathing bitch
part lion
part snake
part Nannie goat

She’ll do you in
or at least
take a chunk
of your hide

So don’t try
passing her portal
without your
lead tipped lance

‘cause she,
Chimera,
lies in deadly wait
for menfolk

You may think
that she's not real
that she never appears
but that would be more fool you

Take an empty canvas

Still Life With Whipped Cream
By GC SMITH

Three scoops
vanilla
chocolate
strawberry

Add a sliced
banana
drizzle with
fudge syrup

Top with
mounds of
whipped cream
maraschino cherries

A work of art
comestible
ingestible
delightful

Paint the picture
fast
this still life won’t
last

NPM #12

Pig Pome
by GC SMITH

If you're a Southern boy
or a Southern gal
the whole hog
pit cooked
all night long
for that succulent meat
and charred cracklins
is the fav meal

Gotta serve the pig with
hot sauce, hash and slaw,
tater salad,
sliced 'maters
roasted corn,
hush puppies
an' a coupla
col' ones

Umm, uhh!
there ain't
anything like
a pig in the ground
with the trimmins
Ummm, uhh!
all night long
for that succulent meat
and charred cracklins
is the fav meal

NPR #4

Chocolate
by GC SMITH

Yum! Creamy,
viscous, silky
chocolate
satisfactory
fills olfactory
breaths
not to mention
tastebuds

Kiddees smeared
with the stuff
Easter frocks
in ruin
but so what
CHOCOLATE,
more than worth it

Biting bunnies
once a year
brings on
joy
not tears,
unless
you might be
that chocolate
Bunny

Happy Easter

One a Day for National Poetry Month (#3)

Cutting Grass
By GC SMITH

She's a 52/40 Kuboto
with a
fourteen foot batwing
on the
three point hitch

I got a hat
with
that tractor
to keep my bean
from burning

It's kinda
fun
dragging that mower
through
150 acres of turf

The once abandoned
golf course
negelected
weed infested
is looking good again

I have
a lawn service
at our home
my wife, MiMi, asks
"what's wrong with this picture?"

Bar Napkin Posey

Left Poem
By GC SMITH

A poem left upon a table
the table in a smoky corner
the bartender found it with a tip;
hmm, introducing her to that guy paid off

The poem waxed most eloquently
on the lady’s scintillating conversation,
her pulchritude, laughter, joy de vivre
and to where this fortunate night might lead

The bartender wondered for a short while
one night stand or perhaps more
then shrugged, wiped the table,
and pocketed the tip

April is the Cruelest Month
by GC SMITH

My uncle
is the reason
yeah, the one
we all call
Sam

Yes, In April
he digs into
my pocket
to get
whatever
cash he can

I guess
I should feel
fortunate
that he
loots my luchre
but
once a year