Worldview

Sometimes I See Amazing
Things that Make Me Cry
by GC SMITH

Sometimes I see amazing
things that make me cry
the last piece of apple pie
when my adult son gets it

Sometimes I see amazing
things that make me cry
the azure Carolina sky
turned nasty pewter gray

Sometimes I see amazing
things that make me cry
whimpering puppy in the pound
with no child to take it home

Sometimes I see amazing
things that make me cry
macho men spewing vitriol
because they fear change

Sometimes I see amazing
things that male me cry
a newborn child’s smile
a new mother’s ecstasy

Sometimes I see amazing
things that make me cry
often tears shed in sadness
yet other times tears of joy

Tummy Pleasin'

Repast At Last
by GC SMITH

Aperitif

C’est magnificent
deserving of a kiss
green Flamingo flambé

Entrée

light broiled, ‘shroom framed,
basketed squirrel served so rare
as to still twitch and scurry

Dessert

A trois mélange
meringued armidillo toes, silk worm sake, hemlock tea
to salve the last gourmand impulse

Brrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Shiverin’
By GC SMITH

It’s cold
down here
in semi-tropical
coastal South Carolina

There’s frost
on the roof
and a heat pump
that’s struggling

There's ice coating
salt marsh grasses
a phenomona never
seen before

I don’t own
a down filled parka
an ear flap hat
or insulated boots

Like a dog
trying to shit
a peach pit
I’m shiverin’

Meanwhile
know-it-all
politicians prattle
about global warming

Seems to me
penguins will survive
glaciers will grow again
global life will go on

Of course
my conclusion
depends first upon
not freezing to death

There are good people

The E.R. Tech (CNF)
By GC SMITH

The guy treated me with kid gloves, gently swabbing the gash on my forehead, staunching the blood flow. “We’ll get a Doctor in here in a minute.”

“Stitches,” I asked.

“Oh, I couldn’t say. The Doctor will have to decide that. He’ll get back here in a minute. I expect he’ll send you for a CAT scan. That's a nasty clout on the head.” He continued to swab blood, his ministrations surprisingly gentle. Finally he said, "I have to get to other patients. Here , press this against the wound." He handed me a thick gauze pad.

The Doctor’s “in a minute” stretched out and the E.R. tech looked in on me from time to time, checking to ensure I was no longer bleeding. Exchanging pleasantries.

In all I spent nearly five hours in the hospital and walked out with assurance that my skull wasn’t fractured and with seven stitches in my forehead. I was lucky, the twenty pound hunk of wood that fell from several feet above my head could have caused real damage. As it was I didn’t even have a headache.

While the Doctor was suturing I commented that the emergency tech who cleaned my wound was a helluva nice guy and competent. The Doc laughed. "Oh, Dudley, he’s a retired CFO and VP from Phizer International. He got bored doing nothing and decided to get back in the medical business, this time “hands on” he says. He’s the best E.R. tech this hospital has ever seen. Doesn't care if the emergency is a minor one like yours or mangled victims from a car wreck. Everyone he touches gets first rate treatment. We need a hundred Dudleys."

Wow, what an endorsement! The world would a much better place with a few more Dudleys.

Whizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Snow Driving
by GC SMITH

Slippin' not grippin'
doin' the deep snow glide
while cars come at you
in an out of control slide

Unless you have ABS
don't slam on the brakes
that'll worsen the slide
pump for a straight ride

They say steer into it
to counteract the slide
but that's durn old advice
for a rear wheel drive

Doin' the 360 dance
on the Pennsylvania Pike
more fun than a polka
provided you live

I remember way back
before stabilty control
snow driving was an art
surely lotsa fun

We'd slip, we'd slide
with the old man's car
and hope to get home
with the fenders intact

Sometimes we made it
with nary a scratch
somtimes we came home
with fenders detached

We'd suffer the wrath
of our Pater's fury
then go snow drivin' again
soon as we got the chance

'cause there's no fun like
a three sixty slide
on a narrow mountain road
with the car swinging wide

Adrenilin pumps
anticipatin' sore lumps
and bruises-contusions
when the spin is arrested

It's wild-it's wooley
the apex of fun
daring the odds
with a slip, slidin' run

But now that I'm mature
I'm down here in the south
safely esconsed
in my own warm house

Out there

Bafflegarb
by GC SMITH

A discombobulated aardvark
with a beaver felt wysiwyg
played on his whangdoodle
while patrons noshed
Weiner schnitzel

Background glockenspiel,
didgeridoos and labradoodle
wails brought forth
sniggers from skedaddlin'
Shih-tzus

Babushka babes bamboozled
bandicoots while
bassoonists played
collywobble riffs
to sombrero fallout

Shiver

It seemed so real
By GC SMITH

Who
could imagine
the anguished feeling
when upon first light
one comes to find that
the formally tight screw
is now
loose

Worse,
the box of drivers
slot, phillips, torex
was loaned
to the idiot brother-in-law
who tossed
and lost
them

But wait
sun peeks
from the east,
and I awake
to find
the nightmare
is chimera,
a mere fevre dream