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TheOldBarn

The Old Fart Was Smart

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A trout masked replica, I think it drove genius in pursuit of the unorthodox. Frank Zappa was my hero little did I know how creative he was.

 

The Old Fart Was Smart

 

Pappy with the Khaki sweatband

 

Bowed goat potbellied barnyard

 

The old fart was smart

 

The old fart was smart

 

The old gold cloth madonna

 

Dancin' t' the fiddle 'n saw

 

He ran down behind the knoll

 

'n slipped on his wooden fishhead

 

The mouth worked 'n snapped all the bees

 

 

Back t' the bungalow

 

Momma was flatten'n lard

 

With her red enamel rollin' pen

 

When the fishhead broke the window

 

Rubber eye erect 'n precisely detailed

 

Airholes from which breath should come

 

Is now closely fit

 

With the chatter of the old fart inside

 

 

An assortment of observations took place

 

Mommas licked 'er lips like uh cat

 

Pecked the ground like uh rooster

 

Pivoted like uh duck

 

Her stockings down caught dust 'n doughballs

 

She cracked er mouth glaze caught one eyelash

 

Rubbed 'er hands on 'er gorgeous gingham

 

 

Her hand grasped sticky metal intricate latchwork-

 

Open t' the room uh smell cold mixed with bologna

 

Rubber bands crumpled wax paper bonnets

 

Fat goose legs 'n special jellies

 

Ignited by the warmth of the room

 

The old fart smelled this thru his important breather holes

 

Cleverly he dialed from within from the outside we observed

 

That the nose of the wooden mask

 

Where the holes had just been uh moment ago

 

Was now smooth amazingly blended camouflaged in

 

With the very intricate rainbow trout replica

 

 

The old fart inside was now breathin' freely from his perfume

 

bottle atomizer air bulb invention His excited eyes from within

 

the dark interior glazed Watered in appreciation of his

 

thoughtful preparation

 

 

I did not read this, I did not hear it, it was played on a record player, and

I was too high to listen closely.

 

It was brazen it was bold, it was Charles Bukowski who was enterprising left out in the cold dark, dank, but

not rebellious, too swift for that, said Frank.

 

Now a trout is a fish, and a masked replica is so hard to think up, without genius.

 

Vietnam was now once when I was a kid, WWII was my father's true deal. Broken stuff, entities and lack of details, the mother of all inventions were all the only things I had to hold onto once.

 

Peace!

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