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am i ee Sep 2015
"i ain't got no fat bootay.
i am just a little husky."
she said to me.
that big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay.

"i'm a thinkin'
i'm gittin' REAL tired
of all your verse."
said she.

"you should live the life i do.
yes you should.
just for one day.
grubby little kids kicking the back of my seats,
hanging out the windows
screaming so loud.

"crying and punching
throwing each other's gear.
boxing an ear.

"picking and fightin'
and bullying every year.
wet boots and sand
poking me in the tummy
with their little stupid umbrellas.
wiping snot on my clean seats.

those high schoolers
smoking in back,
tobacco and joints
and drinking & stuff
thinking i don't know it.

well the he-ing and she-ing,
on trips, to games and more,
i won't go into here.
what do they think i am?
a rolling motel
hotel
super 6?

it's enough to drive me right
out of my mind here.

"i used to be shiny and bright and new,
and i was so happy
to finally get out on the town.
then i realized for what i was made
year after year,
driving around,
the very same trip
all over town.
more than enough
to drive anyone insane.

"if i had wrists,
i assure you i'd slit em',
for you can never imagine,
what is it like,
to be me."
says that big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay.

okay so now... i'm starting to feel
just a little bad,
all the mad verse
i hurled
at her
all of those days.

so i say,
to that big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
"why wait around?
set yourself free,
before you end up in the big fat bus
cemetery!

now in some other time,
in some other life,
i start to see,
i could see ,
the possibility,
of what good friends
we could have been.

i would have waxed her
well, brightened her up
shined up the grill
made those white walls sparkle.

i coulda detailed her
inside and out.
checked her oil
and tweaked those points
making sure those
spark plugs would light.

rotated her tires and
lubed all her joints.
windexed her glass
front, side and back.

so now
still feeling a little bad
i say,
to that big little-husky bus
with the big little-husky yellow bootay,
"go single,
go solo,
but GO NOW!"

taking my advice to heart,
that big fat bus,
with her big fat yellow bootay,

she discharged that last child,
and driver so worn,
and bided her time,
till well after dark.

she took a quick,
furtive look around,
stealthily rolled  
out of the yard.

once a safe distance away,
set her engine in gear,
and got right the hell
out of here.
right away.

flying down the open roads,
careening around every
sharp curve,
every bend.
tipped on her side,
tires right up off the ground.

shrieking like a madwoman

"it's a good day to die!
i'm finally free!"

"It's a good day to die! mother f-ers" she cried
as she sped down the road.

until,

HEY?
HEEEEYYY?
What's THAT in my way?

OH NO!
it's a BIG FAT BUS !
with a BIG FAT YELLOW BOOTAY!
and it's in MY WAY!

...brakes stomped through the floor with all her might,
smoking tires and squealing rubber, and skidding down the highway,
way out of control...

more to come ...Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
Big Fat Yellow Bootay has made 2 previous appearances here.

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
Manly cowboy,
wherefore dost thou art come?

Dashing in you come,
to village so small,
riding your steed,
quaffing back the mead.

Six gun shooter
at your slim hip,
gallantly giving to every young maid,
your hat, a slight dip.

Tall and manly,
maidens do swoon.
you most certainly not,
the typical cowboy goon.

Wild and western,
visions so free,
hailing from spaces,
so large and so rare.

Buffalos and bears,
never muss your hair.
Ever, so debonair.

Roaming foreign
countryside,
taking time to hear
a tale from a guide.

Your horse is awaitin',
so don't be a takin',
too much time,
writing silly ole rhyme.
Tales of a Manly Cowboy - more to come.

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
cool morning
sitting still.

insects speak
owl hoots.
am i ee Sep 2015
hey you!
yeah yous!
all of yous!

you big fat busses
with your big fat yellow bootays!
what a day!

in the lots you sits,
way off the roads,
giving me happy fits!
rows of rows,
of yellow bootays,
lined up straight,
big and fat,
and outta my way!

i say!
this is sure ONE
fine Sun-un-day!

with YOU,
and all YOUR,
big FAT yellow bootay's
outta my way!

hey!
i say!
why can't it be like this
every day?

you big fat busses,
with your big fat yellow bootays!
i shore like it!
when you are,
outta my way!

i say
outta my way!
you big fat busses
you and your big fat yellow bootays!
outta my way!
yellow bootay!
outta my way!
hey! hey!
hey!
such a fine day!
ah... driving bliss

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
the little tree
took root from
an acorn nut.

the years passed,
she watched the loggers
come and go.

taking her friends
and family off
on the big beds
of the timber trucks.

year after year,
season after season,
there she stood,
winter, fall, spring, and summer,
one slow grow.

first she was short,
barely a spurt,
then she branched out,
and up and up and up.

the trees stood
all around her,
so serious,
oh so silent company.

however,
never a mean word nor
loud shout was ever heard.

never any other music
but for that of the birds,
and the wind and the sun
and
the creatures walking the
woodland floor,
those traveling through to
far distant exotic lands.

at least she never heard
“girl, you are some fat tree.”
or was the target of any joke,
“when you sit around the house,
you sit AROUND the house.”

nor any
“you gotta do something with them leaves,
they are looking like a rat’s nest.
Oh i see, it IS a squirrel’s nest.”

or for a stray bump or large hideous growth
no one ever said,
“you better go get that removed,
that's one ugly lump!"

years and years passed,
her soul inside,
couldn’t be heard,
not a word.

then one day,
the fellows came through,
looking and measuring,
measuring and looking,
out came the chainsaw.

eyes alighting on she,
on all of her
tall, majestic beauty.
with swift, quick work
she fell,
down,
to the earth.

loaded on the flatbed,
chains wrapped securely around,
engine roared to life,
and she took off,
racing into the darkening night.

she knew tears did fall
as forests thinned
and were laid bare,
but all she could think,
all she could say,
was
“so long suckers!
i’ll see you on broadway one day!”

and so it became true,
her dream of yore,
it was finally in,
Radio City Music Hall,
she landed as the floor.

night after night
to her lasting delight
tap dancers tapped
making her sing
bringing out the music
in she
so previously
imprisoned inside,
for so long.

sanded and polished
varnished and cleaned,
her secret inner beauty
finally brought to life,
finally brought into the light.

she beamed and sighed,
every time a new star
stepped on to her,
to her extreme delight.

any day or night,
when every eye of
the house,
every one of the audience
was riveted on she.

oh what a thrill
when the Radio City Rockettes
did finally come out,
for only for she
could they dance
so straight,
so evenly.

Sometimes i look
at the woods laid bare.
my heart drops low
so sad i feel,
a tear spills out.

then i recall,
the tale of this tree,
the little acorn nut,
how a trip to
a city,
made her so
lastingly
happy &
so  very
pretty!
am i ee Sep 2015
prognostication
trognostication
snogmosstignation
flogtrosticatio­n

i don’t know what
prognostication means
so i thought i’d
take a little time
and make a rhyme.
seeking out Mr. Dictionary...i do now.
am i ee Sep 2015
Hey!
you!
yeah you!
you big fat bus!
with your big fat yellow bootay!

i'm just trying to get to the park,
when out of the dark,
of the trees,
there you be.

Four
FOUR
FOUR stops in four steps
no more
i swear.

sitting in my car
the minutes of my life
little grains of sand
sifting away.

little feet
and little legs
can you possibly
move any slower
across that street?

heavy with packs.
when did kids start
carryin' full backpacks
for a day a school?

where is that school?
top of Mt Everest?

Hurry up!

GET ON that bus!
get on that big fat bus!
with the big fat yellow bootay!

mama and papa
and gramps and grandma and all
kiss and hug you
like you are really setting off to sea.

gimme a break they'll be back at three!

i say,
now go on,
go on now,
GET ON that bus,
that big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay!

and *** your big fat yellow bootay
OUTTA MY WAY!

i say,
hey,
go on now,
get outta my way.

fat bootay
outta my way...
hey hey hey
get outta my way
you big bootay.
you big fat bus
with your big fat yellow bootay.
special request - fast poem for Joseph Red Hawk!  what do you say?

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
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