pigs, tigs, delmont klien and I.

Lots of crazies out there, that's for sure. I'm starting to think that over 80 percent of people are damaged beyond repair. And, the vast majority of the remaining minority that are not crazy crazy, per se, are boring. There might be a 1 percent or 2 percent group of appealing people and they are needles in haystacks and diamonds in the rough -- very hard to find if you want to get to the gist of all that.

Anyway, I've had many noteworthy epiphanies and a few run of the mill insights I'd like to share with you when my blog hits the magic 400. That's my next milestone and I can hardly wait.

Till then I must keep my promise to Delmont Klein. For newbie viewers, Delmont is a dear and deceased friend of mine. He entrusted me with his word documents just before he collapsed and died from assorted causes. It might seem like a "no brainer." that a poet and social satirist could only expect obscurity and death in our day and age. But, But, But, what seems isn't always what should be and I can only do my part. As of his passing, there are about 800 pages of material. Delmont was in a state of perpetual perplexedness and at the times when this overflowed and his synapses couldn't bear it, he wrote silly things: This was written about his girlfriend who was forced to take on day jobs to support his work.


The pigs possibility

The pig woke up one day
with a yellowed B.A
And a job
where she had to fold clothes everyday.
Her hooves were aching and
Her heart was breaking
Our pig felt that she should be more
Than a folder in a store
forsaking the mundane
again
our pig grew philosophical
And said “ what is it all for and why all the pain?”
the pig knew that pondering
wouldn’t pay the rent on her pen
So she folded in and on
and tried meditating again.

the customer asking for a baby tee
Broke her concentration
and made her wonder:
To be or not to be?
She still wanted to be
So she put in her resignation
And proceeded to flee.

She wanted to find what was beautiful and divine
She was a pig prone to fancy
What they call: A refined porcine

the pen had a landlord
And bills always came due
The pig decided she had to call
her big wig buddy,Lou.

Lou had used his degree properly
And now owned his own temp agency

The pigs typing was rusty and her word proccessing skills nil
The pig was stressed and wanted some pill
But she was not going to be addicted
Or evicted
Damn, she thought I don’t deserve to fold clothes or type
I deserve to be on a throne
But the throne wasn’t forthcoming
So instead she picked up the phone

Hey, Lou whats up?
She said
I need a job real bad
I’ll be at the pond all day
see, Lou was a frog and
Conducted business from a lily pad

Our pig put on her pantyhose and her dreaded dress shoes
she had maybe no too much to gain
but also not much to lose.

Lou greeted her with a tale of his successes and other assorted Hype.
He never once uttered Ribbit Ribbit
That, you see, is just a stereotype.

He talked of the growing need in the workplace for the frog and the hog
And told her he always needed fine swine.
our pig, was artistic
so she delighted in Lous facility with a rhyme.

the fancy frog told our hog that the job would begin the next day

Ah ha, she snorted, I didn’t even need a resume.

She set her alarm and set out her pantyhose
And times like this she wished she had toes.
Now that’s tangential and possibly not neccesarry to our tale
But only those with hooves can know the damage to stocking has
Caused many a pig to wail.

The alarm went off and the pig
Pushed the snooze button
She at times like this wished she was mutton
Mutton slept late and
Never felt blue
They actually bragged about the fact
That they were only good for stew

But she born a sophisticated swine
Forced to join the rat race
Ah, such dark thoughts
were just cutting off her snout to spite her face
She put on the hose and proceeded to the door
More dues to be paid till her due would come
How the fact that she didn’t know how many was making her glum
Her college roommate, Verna, had been a stripping swine
But, our hog couldn’t stop the salad days by undressing
She was raised right to valure her mind like Doris Lessing
Whether a curse or a blessing
She found her self on her way to lou
To pick up a timecard
She comforted herself by saying this is exercise and will diminish my lard.
With all the ills in question, out of the question was getting overweight
She paused to ponder and realized that she was five minutes away from being late
She was walking too swiftly and was soon and of breath
She pressed on and thought of dreams and death
She passed the mutton’s slum
And thought of stew and shame
and
if her time never came
Our valiant pig showed up on time
And that will conclude this piggish rhyme.