M. David Lutz
Just for Laughs
"Writing is easy . . . Writing Good Ain't"
The Turkey

First of all, let's get it straight-
is it platter or a plate
onto which the turkey's laid 
before the festive feast is made?

Do we actually carve the bird
when 'slice it' is a better word?

Why do we say a turkey breast
on what appears to be a chest?

Why do we gut the bird and then
take stuff and fill it up again?

"Drumstick"? Tell me what's the deal?
It's leg we're having for a meal!

Bones called "wishbones" will not do-
I never had a wish come true!

Instead of roasting, can we be it
microwaved or even fricasee it?
Or fill a pot with peanut oil
and toss the turkey into boil?

Above are, here and there, a thought
but really, in my mind, we ought
to give the turkey some relief
and eat some jerky made of beef...

~Richard Haun


Busting butt from 9 to 5
on beelines to and from your hive,
overtime and hectic hours
hauling pollen from the flowers...
You sweat and toil, O Honeybee,
and then succumb to karoshi, 
handycrafting honeycombs
in dreary apiary domes, 
no thought of bonus, pay or perk
you carry out your weary work.
No union contract or the like
to let you go on labor strike
or post some pickets at the gate
or grieve or even demonstrate.
Or even some requirement
for pension or retirement,
and, when you're put out to the 'fold'-
no dinner or a watch of gold.

There is no insect known that has a
life like yours that's busy as a.
So, you're stuck, my friend the bee,
It's kismet, karma, c'est la vie!,
working fingers to the bone.
But what ye reap ye cannot own
for some who wait to take a cut
are merely drones and nothing but.
And others open up your nest
and help themselves to all the rest...

Our system is the same, I guess-
there's welfare...then there's IRS...
So many fingers in the pot...
Think there's any left for you?  NOT!

                    ~  RICHARD HAUN 


The frog lays eggs within the pond
which then become more frogs.
They all are green and hop about
or sun themselves on logs.
Submerged between the banks and reeds
their voices blend in chorus.
They congregate in creeks and croak
a froggy concert for us.
Thus, on and on, eternally,
within that soggy mess,
each frog contributes somewhat to
collective frogginess.

                    ~  RICHARD HAUN