I went to the lumberyard,
I said if you please,
I want five
premium
studs.
I want fifty-seven screws
'cuz I'm coming unglued.
I need five
premium
studs.
This ain't no stickup
Just load my pickup
With five
premium
studs.
We can hammer all night
build a house of delight.
Keep it level and true
so we don't get sued.
If the order's too large
put it on my charge.
Give me five
premium
studs.
That's five
premium
studs.
Note: It's August, hot day. The whole world is on vacation except you. Your body is a sweat factory. You can go nuts out there. You sing to yourself. Loud. You make up songs. You don't give a shit who hears. One such day, I made this up. It's got a beat; I can dance to it. Or at least I can hammer to it.
To hear a recitation of this poem, go to the external link (paper clip) at the bottom of this display.
YOU ARE READING
Construction Zone
PuisiThere's dirt under my fingernails, sawdust in my hair. I'm proud to say I hammer nails. Install toilets. Hang drywall. Welcome to the construction zone. Note: I've had to "unpublish" a few poems from this collection because they are going to appear...
