Monthly Archives: December 2014

Le Hot-dog Vendor

Le Hot-dog Vendor
301 The hot dog is American,
as all its vendors know.
They sell the links from carts each day,
in rain, or sun, or snow.
305 A New York vendor took great pride
in dishing out cheap lunch
to business men and tourist flocks
in desperate need to munch.
His sales, they had consistency.
310 He never lacked for funds
until that upstart lad next door
too sold his franks in buns.
The people did not note the shift,
for hot dogs do not change
315 depending on the stand that sells.
All hot dogs are the same.
The vendor felt quite destitute.
He watched his profits halve.
He’d need a brand new business plan,
320 and he would need one fast!
He added magazines to stock,
but these days no one reads,
so he plays music – no success.
It’s drowned out by the street.
325 As revenue keeps climbing down,
his status grows more dire,
so hot dog man packs up his stand
and makes plans to retire.
“Well if this is the end of me
330 I’ll go out with a bang!
I’ll pack my bags and head to France
to vacate, or to stay!”
The man had always dreamed of France
from all the things he’d read –
335 the culture, art, and oh the wine –
but sadly he’d not been.
With business slowing down now, though,
and age now sneaking up,
the hot dog vendor boards a plane
340 and kicks up New York dust.
At Charles de Gaulle he grabs a cab
and starts his Frankish tour.
La Tour Eiffel et Notre Dame!
Excitement starts to soar.
345 At noon he sits outside the Louvre.
A rumbling quakes his gut.
He’s hungry for some French cuisine
but knows not what he wants.
Nearby a vendor’s selling crepes,
350 and Yankee scouts the fare.
He notices a sausage link
he’d not expected there.
An idea stormed his eager mind.
His trip must be cut short!
355 The hot dog man jumped on a plane
and flew back to New York.
His business thrived, he earned much cash.
The crowds, they flocked to eat.
Where gimmicks failed, his sign succeeds:
360 Le hot-dog de Paris.

Hot Dog Cart

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The Pirate

The Pirate
241 A pirate washed upon the shore,
bedraggled, sore, and drenched,
so weak he couldn’t lift an arm
as crabs pinched at his flesh.
245 One day ago he was a king.
Men feared him ‘cross the sea –
a pirate known as much for pride
as for his endless greed.
That man had captured twenty ships.
250 He’d never known defeat.
At ports the singers knew his name;
at court they rued his deeds.
And then one day he glimpsed a craft
through his old telescope,
255 He could have fled or just stayed still.
He didn’t have to row.
This tory ship was on his turf,
he couldn’t lose control,
then no one would respect his name.
260 There’d be no stories told.
So onward rowed his pirate ship
against the tranquil sea.
Attack! Attack! Blow all the horns!
“Now gather arms ‘round me!
265 My name is Eric Gunderson.
The battles I have won
have made me rich beyond compare!
Now rich you will become!”
His men cheered loudly at his brag.
270 They rallied to his call,
and armed from toe to belt to teeth
stood ready for the brawl.
The distance ‘tween the barges shrank.
Both captains loaded guns.
275 At once the world falls deathly still.
Then silence comes undone!
The screams of dying men float up
amidst the blinding smoke.
The ocean roars as waves assail
280 the desperate tussling boats.
And time moves quick, yet stands so still
as sailors drown and die,
but soon the battle starts to turn.
A victor starts to rise.
285 It’s Eric, once again on top!
He claims his twenty-first!
He watches as his prize sinks down,
and booty is submersed.
His crew watch, too, with avarice,
290 they think about that gold –
So wet, and far below the sea…
And all of them turn bold.
So captain lies upon a beach
alone, and scarce alive.
295 He failed to steal the promised wealth,
and thus he took a dive.
Now Eric wakes, and looks about.
He smiles at his state.
That’s twenty-one, and he survived!
300 So doomed, but oh so great!

Pirate Ship off Kent

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