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                              POETRY . . .[1;40;35m
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THANK YOU GI'S  by[1;40;37m William Bailey[0;40;36m

Fifty years have come and gone,
Since we faced D-Day,
So many lost, so many gone
The oceans bloody waves.
     I wonder now would we pay
     As they did that day,
     Or would we threaten or would we talk
     To convince them of our ways.
Our world has changed, and no one cares
For whom do we betray,
Those mighty men who made a stand
In what become D-Day...

Copyright 1994 William Bailey
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[1;40;36mMETHANIACS  by [1;40;37mWilliam Bailey[0;40;36m

Pastures teaming full of cows
Munching on their hay,
Methane gas slips in the air
Every passing day.
     Deadly creatures roam the earth
     Are we willing prey,
     The time has come to make a stand
     And make them go away.
     Once we rid them from the earth
     And have all things our way,
     Lets get the other creatures
     On there special day.
When they're sitting munching
From the party tray,
Ripping cutting letting farts,
We'll get you on Fathers Day...

Copyright 1994 William Bailey
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TO BE A STAR  by[1;40;37m William Bailey[0;40;36m
  
Commit a crime become a star,
That's the way it goes,
Take a club to the knee,
Just a few more blows.
     Shoot your father, shot your mother,
     Running down the hall,
     Three more movies will be out,
     By this coming fall.
Shoot a bullet in the head,
Of your lover's wife,
By the time you get out,
You'll live the fancy life.
     There's something with this scenerio
     That leaves an allful taste
     You break the law and then what comes
     Money, Fame, Disgrace?
Copyright 1994 William Bailey
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SUMMER STOKIN'  by[0;40;35m Francis U. Kaltenbaugh[1;40;35m

Into the sunset.

Nip it, tuck it.

Wasps in the attic,
Flies in my jeans,
Broken shades in my pocket,
Ruining a dream.
Lies in my eyes,
Bugs in my teeth,
Crustaceans at my loins --
Souls at my feet.

Nip it, tuck it.




A bird on the wire, heart on a string.
A squirt in the cylinder'll get me that thang.
Jump in the saddle, more than six in the bag . . .
A bump on the log -- a limp rag;
Crank it, crank it up a notch . . .
A phase -- then blaze, hotter, white hot!
From outside myself I watch
Everything, nothing;
Like a funky old movie,
Flickering --
Her time to sigh, cry, then sing.

Nip it, tuck it.

"IT" -- don't mean a thing.

Nip it, tuck it.

Such a hog! followed by a dog
Snapping at my heels,
My soul,
Barking in my attic.
Wind in my hair, white lines scream by
In flight, accompanied by spite and rage,
Not a care.

Nip it, tuck it.

Just another page,
A flash, a dime for time,
Left-turn, right-turn, why turn?
Witch is the way --
Or is she?
Your turn.
You look.
Thick hide, verbal and mental diatribe,
I ride . . .
     Nip it, tuck it.

Into the sunrise!
.
Copyright 1994 Francis U. Kaltenbaugh
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LIFE TODAY
  by[0;40;35m Francis U. Kaltenbaugh[1;40;35m

     Murder, theft, and destruction abound;
     Faces of dead folks all over town.
They grimace, a sickening wide grin, 
Not unlike a clown; done in by sin.
     While, he's laughing with glee, 
     He, who takes it from thee -- even me.
Feeding what he must,
Praying, not on the upper crust.
     Knocking at your door, with a blank stare, 
     Hoping you are not there.
He wants to share with you,
His plight, your possessions -- then bid adieu.
     To him, his life is through,
     But it doesn't end -- a hit, a huff, a puff . . .
It begins anew.
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Copyright 1994 Francis U. Kaltenbaugh[1;40;32m
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