"South Dakota's poet in exile."-------Leon Morton Green
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Sunday, February 8, 2015
A loopy droopy takes the bus,
he goes around right by us,
and when he wakes he feels much better,
but when did he buy this Irish Setter?
Must be the drug, he thinks,
that made him buy
this doggy pal with a rusty eye.
So off to the bus he goes, red dog in tow,
bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to go.
Oh, what's his name our droopy asks,
this dog, this pal, his name me tasks.
I should know, I bought this dog,
and now he follows me like tied to a log.
Oh pooch thy well-worn name escapes me so,
you look not like the well-worn Fido.
AND as he muttered this old time name,
the doggie's ears went up like flame.
And so our loopy droopy homeward found,
a loving friend, a reddish hound,
And Fido truly was his name,
and only loopy droopy was to blame.
Barry G. Wick September 2013
a friend was talking about taking too much cough medicine on Facebook...and I just wrote this in the next space...just off the top of my head...a dumb little poem about a guy and a dog. he actually only noticed this poem 5 months later and "liked" it on FB....and I had to read it to figure out if I was actually responsible for it. guess I was 'cause it came back to me suddenly...yeah, I forget I write stuff and toss it away or put in a file.
Barry G. Wick worked for many years in the broadcasting and advertising industry. A native of The Black Hills, he retired to Coralville, Iowa next to Iowa City in 2014. He writes poetry and some fiction. Most everything he's ever written is unpublished. This writer's poems are available to the whole world free of charge though your gifts are welcome.