Those Sticks Poem by Stephen Gregory

Those sticks…

Well since it’s the day after Memorial Day
The first day of summer
I was going to talk about the Horrors

Not hard to do
Lean back and reflect on that night and that
Women whose neck muscles stopped working
Or worked just enough to ……

To………….
Accommodate who ever had
The next rock….but
That was not going to be as interesting as the one
In the warehouse area on the dock
With the big ….Well any way

What’s more horribly interesting is
The Beautiful Young Lady
Walking down the street with the long stick
It wasn’t for support
And….she wasn’t carrying it like they use to
Back in the day…..
Cause then to carry a stick was only a hobo’s mantra

In Barbados …
A similar lady would carry an umbrella
Same beauty, same Lovely blue dress
However, the umbrella was to keep the sun’s ray at bay
Not to keep our own sons… away

The horror is not the leaking oil
Or baby Jones per se
The Horror is the way we live from day to day
We can’t quiet the rap, or give a boy a strap
When, if you listen or look around,

It’s you and me ……Every
Time, however, if and when
You take the time
To recollect on days gone by
You will recall the fear




In elderly folks who have lost all hope
And invalids and Moorish sheiks
Some British dukes, a Marmaduke
Fashioned to lean, protect the Queen

But, only on a day so gray
Much like today ….
Full of dismay
The horror, hey
Is what I saw today….

A beautiful young lady
Sexy …but
Home…..but
A stick in hand, without a man

Have you ever been fishing
On a hot summer’s day
You put your foot on a log
And the log gave way
With your hand in your pocket
You put your pocket in your pants
Have you ever seen a fish do a hula hula dance?

Perhaps, she carried a pole, who really knows



Stephen Lee Gregory @Detroit, USA June,2010
Copyrighted