Author Archives: Duckin' Kev

A Simple Goat Tale

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Sharky the Goat with Boson the Sheppard/Husky

On Tuesday, the dogs didn’t make it to work. Sharky, the baby goat, did make it to work and proceeded to cry all day long. I now understand why baby goats are called “kids”. When lonely, they sound just like a 2-year-old throwing a tantrum. Wednesday, Christmas and Boson made it back to work. Goat was quiet and happy all day long. Until I went to lunch, that is. I came back from lunch, the dogs found an empty crate. I looked around, found a goat leash attached to a floor jack and a goat standing atop my boss who was under a car working. I told him I was back from lunch, and asked if he was ready for me to take the goat back to his crate. He was. Sharky was very happy to have his nannies back.

Judged by judge Judy

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I am forever garbage
I know it so
Because judge Judy
Deems it so

Every conviction
Is my imprisonment
Every judgment
Is my guilty conscious

Everyday I’m taken back
To the grade school bullies
Everyday I’m returned
To the bottom of the pile
With their fists
With their feet
Confirming the truth
That Judy judges
The piece of shit I am
The shit I will forever be

Every statement is the truth
When the fists clarifies their reality
Every judgment is real
When no has to see the tears
When my reality only exists
For one

Half stories
Half truths
Deserving of the righteous
Blood flowing
The red on the ground
Always there
So I know I know the garbage
I belong to

The closed doors
Of the open book
The truths written in stone
That had nothing to do with me
But my guilt
Chases me away
The self-worth
I will never be
Always the hammers
Being slammed on my ears
The truth being told
Or the nothing I am

Never am I of value
Never is my realities real
The lessons everyday beating my brain
Never was truth greater
Then in 5th grade
Never will I be allowed to graduate
Into “Okay”

Salt Rub

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Never again
Will I build
Never again
Will I create
Never again
Will I repair
Never again
Will I know peace

Constant interaction
Never allowed alone
A prisoner
In my own body
Saturation of people
Are the steel bars
Locking me away
Safety
From my uniqueness
Safety
From my quarks
Safety
From precious solitude

Don’t stand
Don’t talk
Don’t look
Don’t break
Don’t need
Don’t feel

The crimes against humanity
The inhumaness
Of quiet
Of solitude
Of creating

But I got a blade
But I got salt
A little slit
A little drip
A little blood
A little rub
And I can be okay
For another
Little while