M.O.K., Tx Poem by C. Dawn Campbell

I‘ve thought and I've thought on this subject, you see. And the title that was chosen was done carefully.

It was the years of the 80s you should first find out. And the guy from the story, he was quite stout.

Stout and good-looking, he was so indeed. I dislike recollecting of his rambunctious need.

Hasty, it would appear he was; though gripy, he rarely did fuss! -)

From St. Louis to Houston, that's where he went. I dislike recalling the times there he spent.

In this city of Houston, there wasn't much sleep. And frankly, I think some stories are cheap.

Cheap and alarming, that's what I claim. Perhaps I should tell you this fellow's name.

I guess you can tell he is in my life. The rest, I know well, because I'm his wife.

These stories, of course, he's shared them with me. And frankly, I love the fact his spirit was free!

He began with Koy Concrete upon moving to Katy. A stranger he never does meet, regardless if it's a man or a lady.

One day he backed his mixer truck into three parked cars in the lot! Can you guess what he was watching? Two girls in bikinis; that's what!

With flip-flops on feet, sun-bleached-out long hair, Army-fatigue cutoffs and a mesh T-shirt... I can only imagine the hearts that he's hurt.

His appearance did change, along with impressions. Of course, this was only when he changed his professions.

For about nine years he worked at this new job in Katy. And with this job - Oh! It just hurts me to think about each lady!

Why, oh, why did so many of them crave... This sweet little mailman I fondly call Dave?

He's taken me down his old delivery haunts, including Mason and Fry. Though, hearing of the girls, oh, it just taunts and makes me want to cry!

We passed by Bally's, which was one of his workout gyms. I am so pleased to be married to a guy like him!

I've heard all about his old buddy Chuck. And even about Steve and Larry, one day in his truck. I'm thinking that next time Steve probably shouldn't duck!

And speaking of Steve, I'd like to remark - About the time in his pocket he actually did spark.

It was a hazardous mixture, as you can see - As it consisted of loose change, lint and a 9-volt battery.

Yes-sir-ree, all of these things were in Steve's pants. Now we all see the real reason Steve learned to dance!

Now harassment from cops, my Davey knew well. I get aggravated by some of the stories he tells.

Evil Knievel, Dave came to be nicked. And that was simply because of the cop(s) that he tricked!

While riding through Katy on his black Madura one day - A cop tried to catch him, but my Dave sped away!

That was a chase they'll not soon forget. I'm just ever so thankful for the way that it went!

What's with these mailmen? Do you think they're just crazy? One thing is for sure, though. They are far from lazy.

Dave told me something about a M.O.K. named Sandra. Her story's one that just might astound ya!

Sweet little Sandra, with curlers in hair - She was clipped on the head by the door of a 1-ton and then wasn't there.

Startled by this, Dave shortly found - Sweet little Sandra sprawled out on the ground!

But lucky for him, she wasn't too hurt. I just wonder if she thinks my husband's a jerk!

There were many lunch hours and lots of great food. I am now so thankful for the M.O.K.'s lovely moods.

And speaking of food, I'm reminded of Kevin. Oh! But wait! Can't forget Carmen who drove her POV through the 7-Eleven!

Now Kevin, he's the one to Dave that would say: "Maybe you wouldn't find things in your food if you didn't look for it each day."

Oh! And good ‘ole Woody, he was a real trip. Would you believe he once answered the door in his boxers... with a gun at his hip?

Yeah! The M.O.K.s that Dave once worked with, they were just great! And leaving them behind, well, that, he surely did hate.

But the parties grew old as his family grew weak. And true happiness is something he always did seek!

From Katy went Georgia... Oklahoma... And then again Texas. Just the other day we went back to Katy for breakfast.

Though his wife has now changed, Dave is the same. And I can't tell you how much we're enjoying this married-life game!

Now, if you're still not sure about this title, then you weren't paying attention. M.O.K.s stands for Mailmen of Katy. And there‘s so many more names that my husband has mentioned.

Yeppers, I just love these mailmen referred to as M.O.K.s. And did I tell you about Larry with his mismatched knee socks?

There's many more stories, though not enough time. It is hard to work them into one little rhyme.