Prose & Chauns


It’s not that odd

to write a poem

on this day of Saints,

feeling keen—in my green

fluorescent body paint…


It’s just that God

is never home

–but below pickin’ clover,

$ making bail $

for wayward “Gaels”

the CHP pulled over…


The silly sods

they shouldn’t roam!

Though alibis abound…

as rev’lers will

downplay their swill

to save a trip downtown…


They’ll holler fraud!

They’ll blame the broad!

They’ll fault their buddy Sean…

to drastic measure

> leaps a leper <

shirking off his Chaun…


©Karen Robiscoe

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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