often I hear yellow belly-mu
sic, flashing —
dash. miking with
Comet, the bowl cleaner.
when I was a boy
my Marine Corps dad used to swear up a storm
I believe I repeated (one or two) when at play, with
the other kids.
mom gets a call
it was a Saturday. a
I was vacuuming dad’s Buick. 1958 model
out the front door, he comes,
“Yea, dad?” (I stop the sucking machine)
“You heard any of these words?”
I listened in order to see if I had.
a litany of profanity pours out of his mouth, staccato.
one by one.
“No, dad. Why?”
“One of the kids has been using them.”
“Nah. Wadn’t me, dad. (i go back and start-up the machine, finish the car)
“You sure?” he yells. (I pretend not ta hear and keep on)
“Okay, Bobby, just checking.” (he yelled out as he walked back into the house)
I thought to myself,
I’d heard ’em all! and from him…
every day. and all day.
I must have slipped up and used one or two.
when ya get ta be one — it’s a gas!
Winston Hash, Jr.
7:35 pm mst usa
july 29 2019
I’m gonna say a word. write it, actually. and tell me, just what comes into your mind at the reading of it (use: email@example.com).
now, write me.
I keep telling you
it never gets better.
but, it does get better.
if you take the plunge…
Joni M. – Both Sides Now
Yellow Rose (of Texas) publications