Sweetwater the lesbian western icon of our century chiming in as the American lesbian poet trailblazer bought by Hollywood in film promotion. Poetry that sells!
Pulpit Grime
weak link
in the nickel chain
ride up to the sanitarium
mental club for god's chosen
living their life inside a clogged
carburetor gummed up with pulpit grime
white coats carb medics 24/7 minds frozen
dirt gum and varnish hazardous material charts logged
harley springer
front end rake angle
black widow threw stevie nicks
a curve no front fender gold dust woman
21" avon front wheel making a fall delivery
jacob's white ghost on a jim beam bender
springer caliper
mounted on the axl
every rose has its thorn
son of a gun ties with the
fork tube with a clevis can't
get it in the loony bin out of
here we're on the road to sturgis
good to see the buffalo in custer the
images had to leave us spearfish preacher
put the clean carburetor on the pulpit gave
a sermon on pulpit grime opened his bible he
showed us vinegar does a better job 17:9 nevertheless the righteous will hold to their ways
and those with clean hands will grow stronger
I remember rebuilding carburetors to get that damn varnish out. And visiting Custer State Park and Sturgis before the motorcycles ever found it as an end-all destination.
This poem brought back good memories as well as the dangers of listening to the pulpit pushers.
When the powers-that-be make the decision to return a selfish party-girl, Zara, to Earth on three missions of redemption, can romance and mayhem be far behind? One hot and trendy gay nightclub, two bickering angels and three unlikely pairs add up to
When the powers-that-be make the decision to return a selfish party-girl, Zara, to Earth on three missions of redemption, can romance and mayhem be far behind? One hot and trendy gay nightclub, two bickering angels and three unlikely pairs add up to
‘I have to go back soon,’ says Adam one afternoon. Yes, I know he has to go back soon. He has to go back to London and to his job and his apprenticeship. He has taken the maximum number of days leave – he has taken his entire Summer holiday in the Sp
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mounted on the axl
every rose has its thorn
Aside from being a poet, you've become a punster. AAARRRRGH!!!!
Love the whole poem.
ChipB
This poem brought back good memories as well as the dangers of listening to the pulpit pushers.
Ron