A gray hippopotamus lived in a zoo
At the end of the Tropical Line,
Harry the Hippo lived next to the loo
Right by the Northern confines.
With his wide toothy smile,
And his great double chin,
He greeted his neighbors
With a great hippo grin...
Made friends with the deer,
Made friends with an owl,
Avoided the white scowling bear,
Avoided the family of wolves,
(He'd heard they liked to eat meat).
Decided to friend a great, walloping moose,
A challenge, his neighbor seemed rather elite.
Tall and severe with a beard on his chin,
He stood like a tree on his heavy brown hooves,
And branches of antlers stood heavy and grim.

"I see we are neighbors,"said Harry the Hippo,
"Name's Harry," he said with a grin,
"Since it looks like we'll be here a while, ya' know,
I figure we ought to be friends!"

"Bull" Moose only chewed a bit more on his cud,
Burped in the gray hippo's face,
Turned his wide antlers for well and for good...
He spurned the whole hippo race.

But Harry had patience,
Had nowhere to go,
So he waited a week and a month and a day
For Otto the Moose to come 'round,
And he did! And now the two of 'em play.

Our Harry's advice to you is be nice,
And after a while, it comes true....
The balkiest neighbors will have to think twice
And fall into friendship with you.

(0=

Busy bee eyeing the flowers
Seduced by the bright colors
Probing with the proboscis
Hairy body covered with pollens
Visiting the clovers and hollyhocks
Also in love with Dahlias and roses
Returning with the days fill
Honey sac full of nectar
Returning to the honeycomb
They are ‘Bee-ing’ happy
With all the sweetness
Just Bee Happy

Funny how self-
Sacrifice is such an
Alien concept to
Some.

I'd rather break your
Heart and both your
Legs, than one of
My nails.

Suppose we're all
Raised one
Way, or
Not. At all.

The break is long over.
I should be back in that

Hole, jackhammering my
Way around that broken

Pipe. But this butterfly
Landed upon the dust

And band-aids on my hand,
And neither of us

Wants to let
Go.

There's something in his
Eyes. That construction worker
With more dirt on him
Than the ground.

I recognize you, I say
To the reflection in the
Excavator window.
You look like the guy she

Fell in love with.
Not the one
She left.
Perhaps I should change

Back into him again, or
Just not. Me: Yet another thing
That wasn't broken until
I started fixing it.

Dream. Plan. Act.
Motion begets
Motion. Motion begets
Result.

Time also flies when
Standing still.
Dreams unbecome
Quickly.  

Act upon plans
Born from dream. No
Step takes you further
Than the first.

I wish I hadn't made those friends
That my mother didn't want me to
(As if their mothers didn't warn them
About the likes of myself).

I would have stayed on the path
To a doctor's in psychology,
Not ending up in construction;  
I'd be neither broke nor bleeding.

I wish I had been convinced as young
That brushing your teeth properly
Will save you hours of working
Your hands to shreds to pay the dentist.

I wish I'd never gotten any of these
Tattoos. That "home made scarification
Is cool only before the infection,"
Was as given to me at thirteen as now.

I wish I'd fallen so in love with my
First girlfriend that we'd be married
With children+dog today, knowing only
The love of each other's.

I wish I hated whisky. That my
Fuse got longer with every stout  
Consumed. And with that, the certainty
That I never could dance. Jig. Ever.

I wish it was all different.
I'd have nothing to sulk about alone
In a double bed. No foot-in-mouth
Memories to still bring me shame,

No failures. No mistakes.
No painful blows or signs of poor
Judgement. Nothing to fret over.
No blame to give myself.

Nothing to cry until I shiver about.
No caring hands to have to live without.
No lost love's name to whisper,
Moan. Shout.
           Nothing at all to write about.