Other Poems by:

Scarecrow Joe

1. Young & Stupid
back when I was
young and stupid
I really wanted to be
a big famous rock star
just like Jim Morrison
or Jimi Hendricks

I would give anything
just for the chance to have
long hair and wear tight jeans
play Madison Square Gardens
and have hordes of pretty girls
throwing underwear at me

but now that I'm old and pathetic
I just can't see myself with long hair
dressed in jeans and a leather jacket
holding onto an electric guitar and
threatening to throw a TV set
out of a hotel window

somehow the years
have caught up with me
and the sound of rock music
no longer drives me to madness
I'm terrified to even look at myself
for fear of seeing my parents

but as long as I'm alive
then there's still a chance
to act crazy and get naked
just because I'm growing old
doesn't mean I have to stop
being young and stupid



2. Have a Nice Day

cursing and swearing
with a mouth full of burnt toast
I put my foot to the floor
but its no use
its raining
both headlights are broken
an indicators missing
and the wipers don't work

"START DAMN IT, START", I scream
turning the key
dressed in my cleanest dirty shirt
ketchup on the sleeve
old faded green tie
and a freshly wrinkled pair of pants

I see Mr Rogers sitting on the front porch
all the buttons on his shirt are missing
exposing his fat belly an dripped shorts
he smokes a cigarette
and yells at the kids
who run about the yard screaming

I keep turning the key
but its no use I'm late for work
I've spent five years working for the company
long hours, migraine headaches, stomach ulcers
no shift allowance or medical coverage
and now this
short-term contracts and a cut in pay

suddenly the engine starts
I back onto the street
and slowly drive away
Mr Rogers stands up
scratches his crotch
then gives me the finger and yells
"Have a Nice Day☺"


3. Burglary

I get back to my apartment
and unlock the door with my key
I sit down, take off my shoes
and that's when I notice
I've been ripped off
there's no VCR or TV

I walk into the bedroom
the cupboard door's been smashed
and a pair of pants ripped in half
my Claudia Schiffer poster's missing
and would you believe it
they've even taken
the dirty sheets
off my bed

the bathroom window's broken
and some of the tiles are cracked
there's a four foot rip in the shower curtain
and my pile of laundry
dumped in the corner
is covered with fragments
of broken glass

but as I stand there
and think to myself
nothing could possibly
get any worse
suddenly I notice
that someone has taken
a dump in the toilet
and wiped their ass
on a shirt

4. customers, hustlers, pimps whores, bums 'n' drunks

the neon sign flashes on it flashes off
the pavements are wet the night brings the cold
cars pass by having somewhere to go
journeys, destination, refuge
roads of reason beckon then home

the drunk on the sidewalk is happy tonight
he drinks from a bottle salvation is sought
his friend is the darkness his love is the night
solitude, isolation, alone
he longs for the quiet

the whore on the corner stands on her own
tough trade it's a slow night
signs of age are beginning to show
customers, hustlers, pimps
years on the street selling your soul

the bum in the alley begins to moan
life is a bitch a bitch from hell
he's old he's tired he's had enough
whores, bums 'n' drunks
the neon light flashes on it flashes off

5. Blueberry Hill

I can still remember
back when I was a kid
I had a friend called Millie
and we were made for each other
just like peanut butter and jelly
on a piece of crusty bread

on a Sunday afternoon
I'd go round to Millie's house
and we'd sit in the kitchen and talk
Millie's mom had an old record-player
that sat in a box on top of the fridge
and we'd listen to scratchy old records
Of Chuck Berry and Little Richard

but I liked Fats Domino best
yea.he was definitely my favorite
we would sit there sharing a Pepsi cola
listening to a song called "Blueberry Hill"
talking tough as if we were grown-ups
and smoking a cheap cigarette

during one hot summer
we'd catch the Short-Line bus
and ride it all the way up town
across the old steel mill bridge
through the business district
right around memorial park
and out towards a place
called Stately Hills

when we finally got there
we'd look at the beautiful houses
and Millie would turn to me and say
"wow! I wish me and you could live here"
and I'd say "yea! that would be really great"
then Millie would pick us out a house
it was usually a large two story affair
five bedrooms huge double garage
and a mail box at the gate


we'd walk around together
trying not to look out of place
but it wouldn't take very long
before someone would notice us
and they'd say something like
"Hey! Are you two lost?"

so by the late afternoon
we'd walk back to the bus stop
and catch the very last service home
Millie and I would sit at the back
looking through the rear window
watching all those big houses
slowly fade into the distance
and disappear from view

"don't worry Millie", I'd say
"we can come back another time"
but as things turned out we never did
Millie's step-father had started to drink
so her mother packed up and left him
taking Millie to live with her aunt

I never saw Millie after that
but I always stopped to think of her
Each and every time I rode that bus
and whenever I hear "Blueberry Hill"
I can almost taste that Pepsi cola
mixed with the odious smell
of a cheap cigarette


60minutes

6. 60 Minutes
I saw a documentary on TV last night
some down-market version of 60 Minutes
it featured all these crazy people who claimed
to have had a Near Death Experience
or what they kept calling N.D.E

yea, you know the one
where you leave your body
and start floating around the room
meanwhile these doctors are freaking out
doing everything they can to save you
not knowing that your looking down
with your ass stuck to the ceiling

anyway all these crazy people
had flat-lined for nearly 10 minutes
but now they were back from the dead
with tales and visions of the afterlife
and the voices of mad lost souls 
still ringing inside their head

I got so bored that I switched off the TV
and stared at the wall for 60 minutes instead
it seems that no matter how bad your life gets
there's always some dumb stupid son-of-a-bitch
who can convince you in under 60 minutes
that he's even more screwed up 
than you think he is

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