Hand For The Big Applesauce's Bars' Hangovers

"Hand For The Big Applesauce's Bars' Hangovers"

Applause for the apple's sauce.

It might sound like guitars.

But it's actually me throwing up at the bars.

I feel like I'm so drunk that I'm floating on Mars.

It's barhopping for Christmas as one of Santa's elves.

The liquor is stored on the establishment's shelves.

For all to inhabit on a bar stool while imbibing seven elevens.

Tom Collins is his name.

He thinks he's very drunk but he knows not.

It shows up in his pale face an awful lot.

But his gut is shot and he'd rather be smoking pot.

Maybe some day they will have pot bars.

Take as much crap as you want but don't give any away.

So they say!

But it always costs to pay.

It's like a pun's play on the words.

Herds and herds of hummingbirds.

Such a delight can only be seen on a big screen.

It's all a part of the scene in a lark.

Like Mr. Clark Kent's cigarettes are.

Found in a timeless star.

On a bar stool in the bar.

Have you been that far in your favorite cookie jar?

Drink and be jolly.

For this is no folly.

By The Guy Known Ollie.

Also Alias Jon Billet 12.21.13...       

Different Persons

                                                                       "Different Persons"

Santa Claus is different people, but so was Marlon Brando.

I'm all the people I've ever met.

So is a divine being.

Alex and Steve are two divine beings I've met in my past's future.

Who are you to me?

A brother or sister?

An animal that I met or ate?

A bug that I killed?

My guilty conscience?

A building I visited.

Like the local pen?

Or was that the state pencil?

I'm so unsure of  myself and the world - that much I'm sure of!

I sure am full of it!

Are you sure of it yourself?

Don't be so sure of it!

By Jonathan Billet 12/18/13

Your Hair

YOUR HAIR OF FLAXEN BRAIDED RED.

AS BOLD AND BEAUTIFULLY GOLD

AS THE PLANET NAMED AFTER YOU.

TO A. DUDETTE       

KU TOO voodoo

read any old hoot

love you always forever 

and that is now in

by jon       

Jelly Farms

"Jelly Farms"

The Crickets croak on jelly farms.

A frog tells an unusual joke in the fog near a bog on a blog.

As I choke on my smoke.

In Wells Fargo's Bar.

Is this a moon's star night sunlight?

Sir, are you from the Federal Bureau Of Intoxication?

In a recently formed nation?

A flask of vodka never lasts long.

So jump on top of the moon and sing me a song.

Of course, that's par for the course.

So get up off your little Palomino horse.

Don't dream while reading a book with a chef's hat on.

Who is the cook?

Somebody I mistook for a schnook?

By Jonathan Billet 12/13/13       

Used Lot In Tuscon Arizonia

"Used Lot In Tucson Arizonia"

I'm in Tucson, Aridzona, and the year is 1968.  In

the hot desert sun the dry air is blowing the twelve

dozen American flags and the balloons with colored 

banners, rippling gently in the wind, in unison. 

Prices are painted in white on the windshields. The 

autos make a colorful collage as a spectacle that

any passers by can see. The lot is full of antiquated  

machines waiting to be purchased.  They are as obsolete

as the world of people who want to buy them.  It's

45 years later and nothing in the world has changed.

Still a mystery to itself, part of a great hoax

perpetrated by some used car dealer.

By J. Billet's 12.12.13.       

Nelson

"Nelson"

I have some ideas and ideals to which I can aspire.

There can be no compromise with mediocrity.

You know you're popular when the trees outside your property are bugged.

Never delete the elite.

Remember to always recall what they did for a livelihood.

Stay humble in your house of the minds.

Try not to get angry with your anger.

Your cause will live forever as you will Mr. Mandela.

You are a brother to yourself.

Today is a day of joy and pride for the world.

We will live on in your heart my true friend.

Nothing speaks louder than the dead man's dreams.

Yet, to this day those dreams will survive the world.

By a P.B.S. broadcast.

On 12/10/13