After the Banker, the Other Players Throw the Dice

Coniferous and cantankerous grin
You’ll have no worries floating here
The current version has been warned in orange

Exceptional and outrageous spin
I have been trying for too much
The only problem is that this game has teeth

Look me in my tender ears
Tell me that you love me
Every time we travel deep we rely on new directions

Windbreakers and war-makers united
Behind warrants and wind-ups
Everyone seems so puzzled once they learn they cannot win

After the Banker, the Other Players Throw the Dice

Poem Found in my Facebook Feed

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Poem Found in my Facebook Feed

Hellhounds Take PTO

You don’t have to worry about Hellhounds tonight,
For they’ve been forced by HR to take a PTO day;
So live this life now with eyes open bright.

You may find life without death isn’t quite right,
But in their out-of-office message the Hellhounds say,
“We’ll respond to your doom sometime tomorrow night.”

All now have a chance to bring to the darkness light
And lessen the loads upon them that life has weighed,
So live this life now with eyes open bright.

The Barghesst, Bargtjesst, and Bo-guests are in flight,
On a moonbeamed-drenched beach they’ve their hellbodies splayed,
“We’ll respond to your doom sometime tomorrow night.”

Take time to breathe deep and know things are alright.
Great joys and deep sorrows arrive and then fade,
So live this life now with eyes open bright.

The Hellhounds growl always from their heated heights,
Yet for now they’re relaxing, far from the fray.
“We’ll respond to your doom sometime tomorrow night.”
So live this life now with eyes open bright.

————————————
another napowrimo in the bag.
thanks for reading along.
enjoy may.

Hellhounds Take PTO

A few nagging doubts linger long after April 21, 1977

The only thing that worried the police was my story; I was a good kid and I swore on a stack of bibles.

Atop a broken, crumbling, faded remnant of a once-strong stone wall – that’s where it perched.

I was old enough to know better, not drinking, air so crisp and clear.

You should (and must) know I wasn’t the only one.

John & Abby, too, check their stories.

We all drew the same thing.

Mine was best. I was known as an artist.

I am an artist. I wish I had imagined this. I am a painter. I am an artist.

The second oldest road in Dover, Massachusetts.

You don’t get that old without a tale or two behind your ears.

These stories will not die. Mysteries with orange skin and tendril fingers and, especially, mysteries with glowing eyes will not die.

I’m a serious painter, you know. An artist.

I wish I had made it up.

I wish someone else would see it.

I’m sure.

I wish I could be sure.

I wish I had made it up.

Something in the dank, wet woods.

Something deep in the woods.

I wish I could be sure I’m sure.

A few nagging doubts linger long after April 21, 1977

A Straightforward Method To Beat The Jersey Devil at Texas Hold ‘Em

Bluff deeply.
Breathing can go wrong in the blink of an eye.
    Do not misunderstand the stakes.
You are playing against The Jersey Devil.
    And when The Devil’s stack is deep,
    he’s gonna look you up.
Study well.
Know The Jersey Devil’s tells.
The Jersey Devil has wings and ain’t afraid to flap ‘em.
The Jersey Devil may be a kangaroo…with wings.
It may be a kangaroo…with wings…and hooves.
    That is telling you something indeed.
The Jersey Devil speaks a body language
    no Rosetta Stone can help decipher.
How is your poker face?
Practice.
The Jersey Devil isn’t human
    so rarely uses props.
This is to your advantage.
You can bare your teeth
    and really raise The Jersey Devil’s ire.
Bet before the flop, goddammit, but not too much
    ‘cause then you’re just looking for death.
It takes guts to carry out a blue bluff.
You know this.
    Good human guts, pink and wet.
You know this.

    But so does The Jersey Devil.

Tell a grand story with your bet and tell a bold story with your bluff and bluff your bet with your grand story and bet your bold story on your bluff.

Watch that cold river turn.

Keep one eye on the treetops.

Watch The Devil fly. Or leap and flutter. Don’t hit on the turn. Know when to hold ‘em. Don’t flip on the flop. Know when to fold ‘em. Know when to calculate the odds of winning a particular hand and use this information to inform your play and know when to run away when you take all The Jersey Devil’s money when you’re sitting at the table and his winged, hooved kangaroo ass bites your fucking head off and slurps out your brain and laughs flips and flaps his sated behind back and back to the pine trees, to the quiet dank of home sweet home.

A Straightforward Method To Beat The Jersey Devil at Texas Hold ‘Em

Friday Lyrics Mash: M.F., I’m Too Sexy

Love’s going to leave me
There!
U sexy motherfucker
That’s why I tell u things
And I’m too sexy for your party
Come here baby, yeah
Why all the cosmic talk?
I’m too sexy for my love
Sexy motherfucker shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass

I’m too sexy for my cat
I get hard if the wind blows your cologne near me
In a word or 2 – it’s u I wanna do
Ain’t no one else around
I like it, I like it
We need 2 talk about things
Sexy motherfucker
I’m too sexy for my love
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
I got wet dreams comin’ out of my ears
Sexy motherfucker shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass

Too sexy for my shirt
Sexy motherfucker
I’m a model, you know what I mean
This ain’t about the body, it’s about the mind
And I’m too sexy for this song
Sexy, sexy, sexy, sexy
U sexy motherfucker
U sexy motherfucker
Too sexy for my hat
See this ain’t about sex
Sexy motherfucker
I’m too sexy for my car
I’m too sexy for my shirt
Scrub the dishes
U sexy motherfucker
I’m just havin’ fun
I’m a model, you know what I mean
Sexy motherfucker shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass, shakin’ that ass

When we take that walk
I shake my little tush on the catwalk
What d’ya think about that?
Too sexy for my love
No way I’m disco dancing
Too sexy for my cat
Come here baby, yeah
Poor pussy cat
Come here baby, yeah
U seem perplexed I haven’t taken u yet
Sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
So sexy it hurts
U sexy motherfucker
U sexy motherfucker
Too sexy for my love
Too sexy for my car
U sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
U sexy motherfucker
Too sexy by far
U sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
Sexy motherfucker
Yo man
Love’s going to leave me

I don’t even know what to say about Prince dying. Bowie felt like a slap to the face. Phife felt like a kick in the shin. Prince feels like a kick in the nuts. And I don’t really know why I feel so shitty about it. I didn’t know the man. I am just a devotee of his music. I listen to one of his records every other day. I never even list Prince albums on my desert-island lists because I figure its a given that you’re asking me to name 10 records I’d want besides my Prince records…I don’t even know what to say or why it feels so personal.
All is change and that is all.
https://jasonpreu.wordpress.com/2015/08/24/menu/
https://jasonpreu.wordpress.com/2015/04/21/what-lies-beneath-business-casual/
Keep it funky, party people.

OaD3bWV

Friday Lyrics Mash: M.F., I’m Too Sexy