The Dog, The Bladder, and The Sun,
begins my day, everyone....
I’ve led a quiet life in my enclosure,
through an east-west exposure.
Summertime brings
three special things,
ensured to wake
and duly shake
my body out of sleep.
And alertness peeps,
through half shut eyes,
through no surprise.
It’s where I am.
The dog, he jumps
upon the covers.
He hunkers down.
Proceeds to cover
my face with lick.
His frantic trick
to get his kibble,
he won’t relent,
although I’m spent.
The Dog.
The DOG!
THE DOG!!!
There’s nothing like
a canine bath.
Just do the math.
I guarantee
you’re surely see
my clavicle pinned down.
Those dainty paws
and dewey nose
have clearly chose
that no repose
is mine to keep or treasure.
The Dog.
The DOG!
THE DOG!!
And this be one ingredient
to start daybreak,
for goodness sake.
The other factors,
as urgent be,
the end to dream’s security.
This modern world
is thus unfurled.
The Dog.
THE DOG!
THE DOG!!
And then there is the simple fact:
That lying here somewhat intact,
it’s time to wee,
and thus I see
I must extract,
the doggy trap,
and make my way
as quick can be,
to the trusty
WC,
and allow one self
that sweet relief.
As pressure built beyond belief,
six hours or so,
and one must go.
The Bladder!
The BLADDER!
THE BLADDER!
Let’s look back thus:
What drives this fuss.
Each day, each week,
Computer speak.
Emails, chats.
Meetings, flaps.
Problem solving.
Thoughts revolving.
Fears evolving.
Focus groups
and tactical troops
to meet demands.
Ensure all hands
are in the game
to save the day,
to end the year,
on goal, on target.
End the fear:
of lapse,
collapse,
relapse,
synapse.
We leave our hives,
break out in hives.
Our lonely drives
with satellite
of daily news
and gossip crews,
who bring on dread.
The world soon dead
with climate change,
and missile range,
and watersheds.
As vanished beds –
and not a drop to drink.
A quiet meal
and flatware wash,
and park it to the set
and watch
some mindless game
of real life
as edited,
and cut and sewn.
As everything we’ve ever known,
is put into the archive.
Insomnia an ever present,
companion at the sofa side.
And thus, with little loss of pride,
we pour ourselves a pint of ale
and let the random thoughts set sail
to undiscovered lands.
Though, in my hands,
per my command
we pour our shots,
all now forgot.
We celebrate agave.
Thank you for this splendid juice –
A gift to take me to the loose,
loved land of shallow rest.
The trick, it works, up to a point.
A toss and turn and then appoint,
the dreamland Queen and King.
I sing, though some would call it snoring.
And there it plays in pillow place:
The darkness there, and half my face
is buried in what’s soft.
The song it goes as lumber sawn,
as worry gone.
Induced, it was, by drink.
Reliably, I’ve come to see
that morning wins through agents called:
The Dog, The Bladder, and The Sun.
The light, it creeps through a crack in blinds.
It bears a ray straight to my lids.
No turning, buried moves I bid
escapes its stubborn glare.
Thus the light in room I stare.
I open up, and then I shut.
But someone’s wise
to realize
that Pop’s been stirred,
poked, disturbed –
And then the game begins.
And doggie lad
knows that he’s been had.
His nap and now the sign
that starlight brings –
The morning sings.
The Sun!
The SUN!
THE SUN!!!
There begins
the said commotion.
Everything is now in motion.
The Dog, The Bladder, and The Sun.
The DOG, The BLADDER, and The SUN!
THE DOG, THE BLADDER, AND THE SUN!!!
credits
from Kinda Sorta,
released September 14, 2019
Tom Hedrick: Vocals, Electric Guitars, Electric Bass, Piano, Mellotron, “Horns and Strings”, Manic Drum Loop Acrobatics.
Recorded July 19, 21 and 27, 2019 at The Curve – Minneapolis, Minnesota US
Minneapolis-based power pop and experimental artist. Influenced heavily by The Beatles, VU, Zappa, Brian Wilson, Todd Rundgren and a number of jazz greats.
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