My Good Underwear

By

Paul Bass

I can never throw away a good pair of underwear.

There’s too much history tucked away in those drawers.

I was wearing a tiny pair when my parents first came to

See me in the hospital.

I was wearing undershorts when I took my first step.

I was wearing a pair when I first said, “Da Da”.

I was wearing them when I met Fred Flintstone.

And when I set foot on the school sidewalk.

And when I rode my bike without training wheels.

And when I tripped my grandma, and thought it was funny.

And when I got in my first fight….with my grandma.

When I got my first long kiss…not from Grandma.

And when I went to my prom…with my cousin.

I was wearing ‘em when I graduated high school.

Then when I graduated college, then years later.

The stretched elastic, The discoloration;

I just can’t throw them away.

I probably should, but I’m just too attached.

I can’t get ‘em off.

Run Wrong

By

Paul Bass

All fair to fun

When well

Not to but fro

When ill

Wearing signs of an unmarked heart

Tells more and gives more

What’s unseen is only to show

Put to death so it may live

Come and go to stay

Stay and take what is freely given

What’s theirs is your unless its stolen.

Love; the air of sacrifice,

Is not a name for soul rape.

Flowers under porch light.

Held by the lover of the giver

Face to face lay

Two bodies unstained by friendship.

Exposed by the spotlight of the darkness

Put a noose on the spirit

Rancid wine from an unclean vessel

To live again only in story.

And the story runs.

Bigfoot for Chihuahuas

By

Paul Bass

If you put talcum powder on a slug,

Will he get scared at first, thinking, “Aaah, salt!”?

If a doctor was giving a porcupine a shot,

Would he say, “This will hurt me more than it will you?”

If two sloths were to race,

I‘d give the prize to the slower one.

If Bigfoot was real,

Would you be so happy you could vomit?

Wouldn’t you feel the same way,

If Chihuahua’s were not real.

How embarrassing would it be

If you were an elephant who wets the bed?

If people had bottoms like baboons,

Would t-backs ever have been invented?

So is it wrong for the hawk to fly

if doing so was to offend the ostrich?

If cows could fly,

would you step up to host an egret on your back?

If antelopes could fly,

I think, that would eliminate teeth marks on his back.

  Pretty Relaxing Thing Here

By

Paul Bass

We got a pretty relaxing thing here.

Nobody’s losin’ sleep.

No one’s flying to Paris.

Just walkin’ around together

I know my ankles are wet.

I think yours are too.

I’m not the kind to make friends with the couch.

But, I’m not strung-up on life.

Just wanta hang with you.

Adjust & develop as it comes.

Stay with this night

And wish for another.

The Urgent Reward

By

Paul Bass

Tellin’ me to mind my own business and

Let you live your life.

I wanta let you

Live a new life

And I mean business.

Your life if you don’t give it to Him

It’s gonna get snatched

But the Lord doesn’t trick

He doesn’t deceive

He’s just got eternal life

For you to receive.

Because you’re being prayed for every day

Your mind, your heart, your body

You see it’s not me I’m tryin’ to save.

You say to me that I’m tryin’ to convert you

You bet your eternal life, I am.

Why should I keep it to myself

If your headin' for the falls

If your about to go down…

And If it’s up to me to throw a line?

Wonder What’ll Happen

By

Paul Bass

Will I go this way?

Will I go that way?

Will I go away?

Can I face the crowd?

If I fail this one

Should I throw things out,

So that I don’t sink?

Or should I let diligence

Define itself.

Should I take the chance,

While It’s here?

Or refuse, and dream of

How it could have been?

Can I still prosper,

And give myself away?

Shall I let her in?

Does she even have

Anything to do with this?

I want God to be first

Waiting to see

And cutting the wondering.

I want to give it to Him

I don’t want to wonder

Or wander without Him saying “Go!”

You Mark Me

By

Paul Bass

You are my propensity.

You’re my next door stranger.

Your name is North.

I am a compass.

My heart is a needle.

You are the light bulb that that stays

In the form of a purple light

When I close my eyes.

You are the line of soap

After a drained tub.

You’re a milk mustache

You’re a punch so hard,

I have a bruise for weeks.

You just don’t fade

You are the ring in my ears

from a concert so loud.

You’re a ring of salt

From a sweat drenched hat.

Need I explain why you’re a sea turtle,

You leave a sandy trail.

You’re a vapor trail on

A clear blue sky day.

You’re a footprint, a tire track

Initials on a tree.

You’re a multi-colored image on

A bank-building window.

You’re a crop circle, a cattle brand,

And a cleat mark, a crater, an autograph

And a sunburn to me.

I seldom ever have to think about you.

You’re just there.

Note: The works in this section (Word Droppings) are from a distant past. Many of them were penned during my era of public readings in coffee houses. This one was the first, and best received.

Love Touch

By
Paul Bass

I just knew she was the one for me; that I would finally throw away that address book, which I was planning on using eventually. I could feel that certain “something” in the air: that mandate that it had to be tonight. Tonight would be the night that I would ask her for a kiss. And if she declined, I’d ask for a hug. If she didn’t go for that maybe a handshake or a meaningful glance. Whatever the gesture would be, I knew our hearts would get tangled up.
We were taking a quiet stroll on that vacant lot, down by the garbage dump, like we always would do, only this time I was almost keeping pace with her. The full yellow moon and the pungent smell of the landfill created a sense of tranquility and well...nausea. Actually, I think it was the aroma that made us both stop in our tracks and hack violently.

After we were through doubling over, our eyes met and emotions tool over. I did it. I leaned forward and kissed her on the back of the head...but if she hadn’t have turned so quickly, it would have been a better shot.

She then turned back and looked at me and we embraced. I knew the moment had arrived.
Suddenly, I felt a burning sensation a little lower than most burning sensations. Engrossed in the moment, i decided---this was the most painful thing I’d ever felt! After backing off, I noticed my pants ere singed and her leg was on fire.
Turns out she’s one of those “spontaneous combustion” people who just catch on fire for no real reason. Anyway, I immediately did what any citizen would do when another was on fire: I kept a distance and watched in awe, wishing I had my video camera. She must have seen that old Dick Van Dyke public service announcement, because she knew just what to do: Stop--Drop--Roll and she screamed a little. And yelled “Help!” This method worked. The flame went out. She soon was merely exuding black smoke. There would be very little anyone could do to save her burnt clothes.
I helped her up. She was obviously very embarrassed because she threw out some words that I heard one time when I spent a night in jail for breathing heavy over the phone to Judy, the Time-Life operator.
I, of course, was just plain confused. I couldn’t think of what to say to a woman who had just caught on fire. As I followed her and her charred aroma back home, thought flew around in my head like a bunch of thoughts flying around in my head. “Did she mean to do that ? Does it happen often? Is is a monthly thing? Was it my fault? Did I remember to send back that form, or am I gonna get that Ashlee Simpson CD in the mail?
Ya see, from my experience, I’ve always known that women are flammable, but until now, I had not known a combustible one. I could see that this would cal for a new level of patience and understanding. Well, I decided that I was ready to take on the challenge. I finally realized that I could take a chance. The decision was mine -all-mine and I make it. We now take our walks together hand in oven mitten. Of course, I have a small fire extinguisher in my free hand and I spray all of my clothes with a special foam that I got at a Military surplus store. 

I’ve Been Commanded

By
Paul Bass

I’ve been commanded to declare myself.
Stand on a mound of pencil shavings
And say something that’s supposed to
Mean something “meaning something”
Is supposed to stick.
It’s supposed to “make me” in the
Eyes of my be hearers.
Perhaps meant to make me and

Hold me in the arms of obligation.
Hold me? They want to scold me.
But don’t know how to talk to me
Get carried away trying to overcomplicate.
I want to obey, I want to sacrifice,
I want to be part of the Rock that
The gates of the Beastmaster
Cannot prevail.

I want no part of irresponsible meanderings.
I want no part of rambling marches.
I have no time for mob chat.
Take on me, fake on me, flake on me.
Please don’t stake on me.

I’ll pray that’s the only thing I can
Do. Let’s hope it’s just me.
After all, what am I?
Some kinda gate master?

Why do I have to let you in, in that case?
Could not you see me from there?

Or do you want me in there?
Is it that you are holding the gate?
Do your arms get tired?
I’m so confused, I’ve only just lived
And been.

I know not of your Declaring ways.
I run not for an office or seat.
I’ll pray though.
I hope it’s all just me.

Haystacks

By
Paul Bass

So many haystacks,
Which one has the pitchfork.

Undertow in every harbor,
Don’t swim or swim for life.
Whew! Twirl,Shake back & forth,
Tremble,
Jump…
Wait…,
Go back. I can’t fly, but I can,
Climb.
It takes more time to but,
I’ll be right back
Don’t change pace,
I’ll be right back.
Don’t compensate.
I’ll be