Most Places

One guy standing right over here
near me just up and said,
“Those who insist they should talk
about how they feel should all
be given their own country…
unless it’s already too late.”


Most likely under the influence of a high pressure symbol drawn on the weather map of his mind, this one ole burr head jerked the kid up close and said, “The only person probably worth having as a friend is the kinda guy that probably don’t care what anyone, including you, thinks of him.”  (Tomorrow look for a bad humidity a-risin’.)


The question is no longer whether
there is a world-wide, secret organization,
for there is, and everyone belongs;
the question now becomes – Do you know
that you are a member or not?


Down at one of those City, self-improvement rallies
(are there any other kind) the speaker paced the stage
and thundered, “Everybody’s got to start somewhere
and it doesn’t matter where,” with that he leaned down
and pointed to a guy in the first row and said,
“Except maybe in your case.”


In most places
apparent success is success.

(Don’t you wish you lived in most places?)




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