Spring Comes Early to Southern Arizona

As I peered through my patio window and the calming haze of a glass of wine, I observed the small birds flitting about on the grape vines that drape my perimeter fence. They repeatedly darted to and fro and perched upon the recently cut end of one of the vines. I have the bad habit of waiting until late spring to perform my primitive vine pruning.

The birds would chase each other from the same perch as if in competition for something. They would sit and dip toward the cut end. I watched this performance for quite a while until my curiosity lifted me from my recline, upward and outward to investigate.

It was quite simple. The birds had found spring sap oozing from the freshly cut ends of the vines to their taste. They were enjoying a flavored drink. Why imbibe duck-poop tainted water from the duck bath when you can instead quaff spring-sap tea?

The World Needs a Good Bombing

This song, to be sung to the tune of "The Times They Are A-Changing", is dedicated to the too many of my society who can find no end of specious reasons to enter into war. 


“The World Needs a Good Bombing“


© Zedshort


Come gather ‘round haters
Of all political stripe
And holler and yell out
Your jingoist tripe
And call everyone else
Who levels a gripe
That they’re cowards and should be leavin’
Leave the fighting and killin’
To those with no moral bone
For the world needs a good bombing.


Come bleedn’ heart liberals
And neo-cons who all gripe
That things over there
Seem about over ripe
And we must jump in now
Oh, the flames are just right
While there's glory
To be a-reapin’
Time to be killin’
Though it’s morally thin
For the world needs a good bombing.


Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he who gets voted out
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a war to be fighting
And if you won’t pander
They will cut off your balls
For the world needs a good bombing.


Come fools and hot-tempered
Throughout the land
And don’t hesitate
To make the demand
Put your sons and your daughters
At whimsy’s command
Begin a new war
We’re not needing
Sacrifice dearest first born
Send to foreign land
For the world needs a good bombing.


The heat it is on now
All hope is aghast
The quick will meet death
And the dead they will laugh
But the doubters today
They won’t be the last
To raise high a long middle finger
To those who praise discord
Hatred surely to last
For the world needs a good bombing.

Man of Constant Hunger

To be sung to the tune of Bob Dylan's version of "Man of Constant Sorrow"


"Man Of Constant Hunger"

©  Zedshort

I am a man of constant hunger
I’ve been hungry all my days
I’ll say goodbye to my own kitchen
Where I’ve spent most of my days.


There is no food to which I’m a stranger
My face is smeared with crumbs galore
But there is one promise, my dear foodie:
See you 'round the golden arches evermore.


Through every buffet I will wander
Through Asian, Country, and then more
Now my poor gut is fully distended
Need a ride to those ER doors.


I’ll have my stomach pumped out
And have my poor health restored
Should have known how bad I’d be feeling
Guess I was just plain bored.

Talkin’ OK Cupid

The following is to be sung to Bob Dylan's "Talkin' New York". The only difference is in the sixth stanza where my version contains six lines whereas Dylan's contains four.


Talkin' OK Cupid


by Zedshort


Rambling round from bar and band
Seeking love in every bush or hand
Thought all hope lost and feeling down
‘Till I come into OK Cupid town
Every type of woman and man on display there
And some in need of definition.

Lonely time in Cupid town
I found myself lurking around
Heart adrift no anchor called You
Somebody could die, lonely and blue
It was a lonely time then
People said my heart would stop and die pretty soon
Guess that was the consolation prize.

So I wrote me a profile full of heart
Poetry, and grace and added sparks
Described you and me both to a Tee
And posted it electronically:
OK Cupid, here I am.

I searched and found a gal on said site
That seemed to me just about right
Wrote her a letter true and blue
Zed, she laughed, I ain’t for you
You sound desperate to me
Girls wants honesty not truth.

So, I honed my pen and proceeded to lay
Out my plans for our future day
Drew them a picture fine and true
The gals there said I sounded lewd
They explained they was bitching whores
Not whoring bitches.

After weeks and weeks of hanging around
I found a gal in Cupid town
Had a nice face, big tah tahs too
I changed tune, paid membership dues
It was a wild and crazy and torrid affair
Lasted one whole day.

Now, someone I don’t know once said
If it’s happiness you want all of your life
You must make an ugly woman your wife
Body that screams but face like a horse
Balloon like ass and hooters that snort
Won’t be putting her on display in public too much
But we’re bound to keep the house warm.

So one morning when I awoke cold and alone
I lodged a complaint in my Cupid journal-tome
But heard in response not murmur nor hoot
It was then I knew I’d been given the boot
So long OK Cupid town
Howdy, Match dot com.