On our walk this morning Maya and I were discussing
How we try to be with our mom as much as possible now.
I know, you see me lying on a pillow all day
Being adored and that could have been me
But hanging with my mom, well, you never
Know what is going to happen and that
Is the best part of the journey, right?
From couch to row boat, to porch to car
A long hike up a mountain to a lake
Then we eat!
Good raw meat, sweet potato
Beef stew, and sardines simply
Prepared in their own sea water.
Fine cuisine by a master chef.
We go for long walks, Maya in her
Harness (chuckle here),
So she won’t choke to death pulling
While I wear a cool blue collar
And with my tail swishing to and fro
It makes for an attractive sight.
See, that’s how I win the girls over
I’m cute and they love me so I play along
But when a strange man comes round
I run at him barking real vicious like
Scares the hell out of those big dudes
Ha, ha, ha,
They won’t admit it, but they step back.
My mom likes to listen to Stephen Stills
Have to admit the man plays a mean guitar
Love his Tree Top Flyer, mom says it reminds
Her of the time she was in Jamaica
On a plantation, old family, mixed blood
Soft, chocolate au lait skin.
When suddenly the son arrives home
Bringing a young gal who flew him in
From South America with a cargo of prima
Marijuana buds heading for Tampa.
Mom said they were a young, beautiful,
Doomed pair of drug runners counting
Their remaining days in millions of dollars.
Then she turned up the music and I
Never did get the end to that story.
Maybe one day she’ll finish it.