'When they return'

Written by someone else about me and Aubrey R.

" When they return"

The phone is ringing off the hook,
Don't no why this job I took,
Al is where all natures near,
Probably hunting Moose or Deer.

Now Al and R. are a dubious pair,
They dress like bums, and curse and swear.
With cabbage and beer, their guts they quench,
They stink up the woods, with an awful stench.

They hunt the deer where the water flows,
Their not happy, till theres blood on their clothes.
To picture how these two are bent,
Rejoicing when it's life is spent.

When they kill the deer, their battle cries,
And slit it's throat, and gouge it's eyes.
Anything that will make it gory,
For when they come back home, to tell their story.

Have to get this job cleaned up,
For when monday morning they show up,
And if at hunting they did goof,
They'll want the balls of this goddam Newf.

Iggy C.

Iggy C. and another person would relieve Aubry R. and myself when we went on vacation.

Every now and thyen we would get into a poety writing mode and, it would be like dualing poets.

I saved a few and every once in a while I will insert one.

Allan