Think Before You Speak

Earl was an eccentric little rabbit,

About which,

Everyone made quite a racket,

He was as ordinary as you please,

Really a lovely fellow,

But there was always talk about,

Him wearing a long black jacket,

And his strange love for eating jello.


Some squirrels say his jacket,

Is to aide him in black magic,

He’s not normal,

And he must be up to tricks,

But the otters believe,

It’s just his blameless lucky charm,

And fits naturally to him,

As much as his own arm.


The rest of them,

All have their own view too,

So I feel I ought,

To clear things up with you:

He’s a fuckin gem!


His many weird habits,

Make him unlike the other rabbits,

Like when he ventures out of the woods,

To stock up on people goods.


While he is gone,

Others quake with fear,

As their minds produce some crazy thoughts,

Of things he may be getting up to,

He just buys innocent things,

Like spinach and whiskey,

And lugs them back,

In a big black sack,

But he keeps his doings on the down-low,

So they get freaked out,

By what they don’t know.


He’s quite the early bird,

Each morning he happily wakes,

Then after putting the coffee on,

Heads outside,

Where he does a wild dance,

And the onlooking deer deem him absurd,

As they look on in a trance.


It’s not totally that tragic though,

See these deer don’t know,

He’s saying some words,

That encourage their meadow grasses to grow.


He won’t partake of his coffee,

Without first reciting a good-luck phrase,

That his mother used to hope,

Would be just a phase,

As it made her hair raise.


I’ll give you that,

Yes this could be a tad odd,

But it has done things amazing,

Like preventing a carelessly tossed match,

From setting their whole wood ablaze.


He grows alfalfa and carrots,

On all sides of his cottage,

And enjoys watching their progress,

During an evening sit,

On his wrap-around terrace.


It’s said he does strange things,

While out there each evening,

The Old Owl is always watching,

And says supposedly his lips move,

But put forth no sound,

And his crazy hand motions,

Have been told of for miles around.


In reality he’s just humming,

Relaxing himself with a merry tune,

While tapping his arm chair,

With his ice cream spoon.


Today he outwitted a tiger,

And stopped him from terrorizing a spider,

The truth’s still being sorted out,

Of just how that came about.


Orlando the Owl swears,

That last evening on his porch,

He saw him do a dance,

While swinging ’round a torch,

So it must have been a spell,

How else,

He asks,

Could he have made a tiger fell?


Truth be told,

If he could have done such a thing,

He’d rather use such excessive powers,

To fill his pockets full of gold.


Sunday is his fun day out,

One week he’ll go here,

And meet an old school peer,

For a game of solitaire,

Another week he may go there,

In search of a new cologne,

To spray upon his hair.


Sandra the Sparrow speculates,

That he does evil on these dates,

Why else,

She says,

Would he wander out so far,

Without taking his flashy car?

But he is not at all about Hell,

She does not know what it is she tells.


Here’s the truth:

He’s out there having fun,

Dodging busy noses,

As they’re trying to find out,

Everything under the blazing sun,

That he’s ever done.


Do you maybe have an Earl,

Somewhere near to where you are?

Are you maybe being less than fair,

While you sit there judging,

From your high and mighty chair?






We Hope You Have A Horrorble Holiday

A black cat,

Who wears an orange top hat,

Head of the Horrorble Spooky Pack,

We are no joke,

And on Halloween,

We like to leave things battered and broke.


I may be a sweet-looking thing,

But from my brain,

Meanness does sing,

And unto you,

My Spooks will do,

Anything I tell them to.


We promote fear,

Like Santa promotes cheer,

I’m ancient like him,

But my morning jogs,

Keep me spry,

So I can make you cry.


At our meeting today,

The whole Pack was so excited,

That it’s time to come out and play,

They’ve come up with piles of plans,

To give you a horrorble holiday.


We are comprised of lots of horrors,

Who all make me very proud,

A Live Witch’s Broom,

And some Screaming Wind,

Are some of the,

More exotic things.


Then there are the regular ones,

Like an Ivory-Boned Skeleton,

And an Enormous Evil Pumpkin,

Who weighs a literal ton.


Do any of these,

Sound scary to you?

If not,

Then you may be a fool.


The Live Witch’s Broom can sweep you,

Off the face of the Earth,

And the Screaming Wind,

Can render your ears,

Unable to hear.


The Skeleton and Pumpkin,

Are not just cute or silly decorations,

They can do evil,

Beyond your wildest imagination,

Would you like to see a demonstration?


I thought not,

But hey now don’t go run and hide,

It would so waste the night,

If you sat inside,

Come on now don’t be a pansy,

Get on out there,

And collect that candy.


We will be waiting,

Wherever we are,

Poor you,

If from us you are not far.




The Fat White Cat

It’s the mid 1800’s,

And we’re packed to go,

We leave in a moment,

Because on finding gold,

My family’s Mister is hell-bent.


We’re to travel in a covered wagon,

From here in Oklahoma,

All the way to California,

Pulled by hyper horses,

That scare me so much,

They may as well be evil forces.


After dinner has been ate,

I curl up in my bed,

A pile of hand-sewn quilts on the wagon floor,

Only one day and already,

I’m missing the old homestead.


Through heavy-lidded eyes I see,

A tiny light appear in the corner,

That seems to be,

Calling to me,

So silently I get up,

And pad over there,

And when in front of it I sit,

I’m pulled right into it!


I shake my head,

Left and right,

Taking in all these,

Unfamiliar sights.


Everything is bright and noisy,

I see signs saying I’m still in Oklahoma City,

People hustle and bustle about,

And nearby I hear shouts,

Then an enormous metal carriage zooms past,

Right through some puddles,

With a mighty splash.


After a few blinks of my surprised green eyes,

I began to walk down the sidewalk,

Noting with shock,

It was not a board walk,

And the street was not of dirt,

But of an ugly blackish substance,

That was warm and hard as rock.


Wide-eyed I take in,

All the crazy sights,

Like window signs with neon lights,

And Ladies and Gentlemen dressed almost alike,

There are too the little hand-held devices,

Taking up all of everyone’s attention,

And those monster-like metal carriages,

Which to my surprise,

All had two or four glowing eyes.


People to my front,

And more to my back,

A fat lazy old man on a bench who grunts,

Here and there someone walks their dog in the park,

One of those has a most annoying bark.


I start unknowingly going slower,

And all these beings pass me by,

Eventually I stop and sigh,

Then my eyes wander to the shops,

Point-blank in front of me is an expensive-looking restaurant,

Not akin to any I had ever seen,

And as it looked like it would serve,

Anything one could want,

My mouth began to water,

And I began to lick my chops.


Staring hard through the windows,

I wondered at the menu,

Of such an interesting venue,

And then just as I was hoping,

Swiftly the front door swung open,

And as one came out,

I snuck in.


Inside I was greeted by a woman,

Dressed in what looked just like,

My Mister’s Lady’s underwear,

She had an unfamiliar but becoming,

Style to her hair,

And I had to try hard not to stare.


She called me Pretty Kitty,

Then I was left to my own devices,

When she was called over to a table,

To deal with some fussy diner’s crisis.


Jumping up on a barstool,

And then onto the bar itself,

I began to explore,

I walked from one end to the other,

And by the far end I saw a door,

On it a colorful poster,

Saying “MAY 2018 BE YOUR YEAR!”


Back down to the floor I leaped,

Too stupefied to utter a peep,

What in the hell happened,

Back there in that wagon,

It’s in my reality,

Not yet year 1900,

Yet it seems I’ve been thundered,

Into the future,

All the way to year 2018.



Oh the things I’ve seen,

Things that Here,

Are of the past,

Things that There,

Have not yet been,

I can’t wait to tour this place some more,

And see what else the future holds,

Then go back to Then,

And see the faces when,

The untold tales I tell unfold.


So I set out for more adventure,

To gather more stories,

For to tell my Mister.



Still in a daze I walk,

The large perimeter of that restaurant,

Searing into my memory,

The styles of each thing,

From the carpeted floor,

To the young boy’s socks,

Then over to the door to wait,

For it to open up once more,

Then I can be out on another jaunt.


It’s winding down out here now,

People dispersing to their abodes for sleep,

Soon it’ll be calm enough,

To even hear a cat’s meow,

And I must decide,

If sleep is what I need,

As I’ve no clue how,

This crazy trip will go,

And when or where or why or how,

I’ll be pulled back through,

That lighted hole.


Curiosity wins out,

As being on borrowed time,

I must get out and about to scout,

For more of the future wonders,

Yes I must commit them to my memory,

So when I’m pulled back,

I’ll be able to tell about,

All the things we lack.


I cross the strange black road,

And wide-eyed I stroll along,

Until I find another busy establishment,

Full of the metal carriages,

All lined up in rows,

Some in front of a small building,

Others under a roof-like thing,

Each near a tall rectangle-shaped something,

Connected to it by a thick black hose.


Up to the building I wander,

Prepared to observe for awhile,

Determined to learn something worthwhile,

Then another carriage enters the area,

Some sort of insane music playing,

So loud I startled and my heart jumped a mile.


After my heart stopped racing,

Between the carriages I started pacing,

Next to the noisy one,

A woman got out of one shiny and red,

I followed her into the building,

Where inside she spoke to another,

That looked like he could be her brother,

And I learned a lot from the things they said.


I hid behind the counter,

Where the woman’s brother worked,

There I heard that here and now,

They get around in cars,

And know not of wagons or carriages,

These ‘cars’ under the roof-like thing,

That black hose fills them with something called gasoline,

A liquid which makes them go,

And the music that was heard,

Comes not from people within,

But from a something called a radio.


Well this is all very interesting,

All these futuristic things I’m learning of,

These modern people,

Sure have some peculiar ways,

It seems the world has come quite a ways,

Since my days,

I head once more,

To the door,

And when one left,

I followed once more.


I decided it would sure be fun,

To follow the noisy one,

The back of it was long and flat,

With sides all around,

And a bench-like object,

Behind a window,

Looking right into,

Where the driver sat.


In two leaps I was on the top of the shiny red one,

One more had me in the back of the noisy one,

The man inside felt me land,

I guess my weight,

Made the car shake,

I thought for a minute,

He would get out and make me run,

But after just an eye roll and a shrug,

I was not shooed away,

Like an annoying bug,

He then turned and stuck a thin metal gadget,

Into the side of a round thingamajig,

This in turn,

Started the rig.


From my seat atop the bench,

I could see he pulled back on a lever,

And when that made us begin to roll backwards,

I was impressed,

I thought that was pretty clever!

Then as we drove on farther,

I pieced two and two together,

I realized that round thingamajig was used like reins,

It told the wheels which way to turn,

After being told which way to propel motion by the lever.


Along the road we drove at high speeds,

The fastest scary hyper horse they did exceed,

To get to the other side of the city,

Took less than one half hour,

For this alone,

Going back to my century will be a pity.


After two right turns,

We pulled into another lot,

A building took up almost the entire spot,

Except for the narrow path,

That wound around to the back,

Where we stopped then,

Next to a towering sign and a box-shaped thing.


As we slowed,

The driver pushed some buttons,

And instantly two windows opened,

The one beside his head,

And to my delight,

The other one was mine,

I was being invited inside!


Forward a tiny step,

Then I sniffed the seat’s back,

And the man’s shoulder,

It smelled of a Rover,

He of sweat and clover,

I was enthralled and with a bound,

I landed beside him without a sound.


Unexpectedly to me,

A female voice came through the box,

Asking for the man’s order,

As if it were a restaurant,

He asked for things I’d never heard of first,

Then some water for to quench his thirst,

Last like as an afterthought,

He asked for just some chicken in a dish.


Then forward we rolled,

In ten feet we rounded a corner,

Then in front of a window,

Again we slowed.


By this time I was completely captivated,

With all these things to which,

I had become acquainted,

It was wondrous to me though,

When money was exchanged,

And food came through that window.


The smells wafting out,

Were so different from other kitchens I had smelt,

This was a very different sort of restaurant,

And I could not wait to see,

What the food was all about.


It turns out the chicken was for me,

It was quite tasty too,

I ate it very fast,

I thought the man must have been thinking ‘MOO’,

But when I looked up at him,

I was greeted with a grin,

And he himself had food,

Dripping from his chin.


“Gimmie a burger and fries,

And no one dies”,

Said the man with a laugh,

And though I had never heard,

Of such foods before,

They had a scrumptious scent,

And now I was content,

So I lay down on the seat and purred.


I must have dropped off for a catnap,

For the next thing I knew,

I was lightly shaken,

And being called on to awaken,

Then the man picked me up,

And I saw we were at a large homestead,

With a lavish house,

In the corner of a field,

And when we reached its door,

We were greeted by a bouncing barking pup.


Once inside I noticed right away,

Many, many things,

Different from my day,

So I began to tour the place,

As the man was served hot coffee,

By a woman introduced as his fiancé.


My favorite room had fluffy flooring,

One wall with large fancy glass doors,

Looking onto an extravagant porch,

The furniture was cushiony,

And in front of each piece,

Was a pretty glass-topped table,

On which to set one’s things,

Each wall had a big flat rectangle,

With sounds and pictures coming through,

I sprung up onto the narrowest piece of furniture,

Shortly after noticing,

Along with being heavily padded,

It rocked back and forth soothingly,

And as I settled in for a rest,

I noticed the thing that was best,

The air was cool,

Though the outside was boiling and summery.


I dreamed that night,

Of my Mister and his Lady,

I had traveled back in time,

And was on my way to find our fortune,

No matter what I said,

They thought I was touched in the head,

I never left my bed,

They said.


When I woke it was a new day,

I made friends with the dog,

And learned of things like doggie doors and indoor plumbing,

I tried new foods like grilled beef with my cream,

This current type of life was better,

Than anything I could have ever dreamed.



In the end I got the best of both worlds,

In the blink of an eye,

I would again abruptly time travel,

And be in the other century,

I suppose time in each,

Must have run differently,

Which was convenient for me,

Because when I was in one,

My other family never realized it,

So they had no need to miss me.