BLOG

An Ode to Mud Season

Once upon a Springtime screwy,
Gazing at my garden gooey,
Thinking of my salesman Dave who,
Signed upon the dotted line,
A client by the name of Drummer,
Who needs a home built by midsummer,
On roads so bad you need a Hummer,
Not this poor old Dodge of mine.
Not this two wheel drive old Dodge,
That used to look so new and fine,
But now squeaks and groins and whines.

Staring at a sign of warning,
That was posted just this morning,
SIX TON LIMIT PER SELECTMEN,
News of which had made me sore.
Now my excavator stranded,
Sits and rusts near lumber banded,
Causing me to say quite candid,
“Why me Lord I must implore?”
“I’m getting sick and tired of this,
Madness every Spring for sure!”
Crappy roads forevermore.

Upon Road Agent I descended,
Comments crass to him offended,
But whose will remained unbended,
Standing stiff and straight and sure.
“You shall not pass” he said undaunted,
“Your heavy trucks are here unwanted,
Elsewhere go with ego flaunted,
This road your weight cannot endure.
Take your trucks and hoes and go,
Until the roads are drier more.
Don’t get your butt hit by the door.”

Off I slunk downcast, dejected,
My empassioned pleas rejected,
By the Agent whose harsh words,
Now rang into my eardrums core.
“Why, oh why must you insist,
To hand me this Cease and Desist,
Your pardon begged and boots I’ve kissed,
Kissed ‘til my lips are chapped and sore.
When may we pass upon this road
And build our client’s homes once more?”
“When I say so, and not before.”

“Fine” I grumped my final word,
And to his back flipped him the bird,
Defeated, done, detained, deterred,
A beaten man with strength no more.
A better man than I today,
The Road Agent had final say,
And so from off this road we stay,
Our laden trucks we do detour,
And as I tried to take my leave,
A final oath to me he swore.
“Permits for you? Hah! Nevermore!”

Comments

Posted By: jen
Jan 19, 2010 2:09PM

This is too funny!