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There are potholes aplenty just outside my house,
Some big as a manhole, some small as a mouse,
One shaped like the head of my dear cousin Klaus.
They came by to patch them last week.
By “them” I mean every third hole, it would seem,
For many weren’t patched by the holepatching team,
Perhaps due to some diabolical scheme
To make my car’s shocks bang and creak.
Were they called away super-quick, called away fast
To patch up a leak in some iron pipe (cast),
Some logical reason this job was halfassed?
Lord, give me the answers I seek.
Why is one half-filled, the other half not?
Is shortage in asphalt some evil world plot?
Should they not have been filling at all but got caught?
Perhaps they had patched past their peak. I see thee not defiling these woods, Yet hear thee o’er the lilting breeze, The squelching o’ my dusky boots, And in the branch of wakening trees Out-voicing chortling birdsongs lush. And to mine ears, thou soundeth thus:
“MMRRRRRRRRRRR— GRRRWWWWWWW— NUNGH! NUNGH! NUUUNGH! MMMRRRRRRRRRRAGGGGHH!!!”
Whilst burbling melt-fed creeks revive,
And merry sun sloughs winter’s wear, I know thou shalt on my path swerve, My walking blessed through bylaw’s care;
You, not so much.
And when your passing comes to pass, With mauling wheels and stenching gas,
Whilst scaring man and beast alike And ringlet girl upon her trike, When we two meet, shall I avail To block thy path upon this trail? Everything is brown Everything is brown Everything is brown Everything is brown Everything is brown But sometimes grey Glimpse of melting snow Sunlit pile in the back yard Oh look: a dog turd I’m hot I’m cold I’m cold I’m hot It’s sometime sneakers, sometimes not
Forget my scarf and curse my luck Then lose a sandal in the muck
It’s snow for breakfast, sleet for lunch And then it rains and rains a bunch The sun bursts forth at four o’clock In bed I need an extra sock
I’m blinded by the blowing dust I cannot seem to quite adjust To April’s schizophrenic ways Thank God that May is days away