Sunday, April 20, 2008

dare ye ol' hobo hope?


My day had gone better than planned. I had just caught a chipmonk and when he wouldn't speak, or respond to Alvin, I did the next best thing. I ate him. At least this night I wouldn't have to swab the ol' meat locker cart w/ my bandana and suck for protien. I decided that it was time to take to take a nap. With the sounds and sights of the train yard soothing me to sleep I closed my eyes. Hoping for dreams of golden rail cars and night watchmen who left 5 cent recycleable cans. I hate having to steal cabbage for lunch. Sleep came quickly, the nightmare had to wait til I woke up...Wake I did. When my eyes opened my heart shut closed. I had hear the saying "As sad as a hobo who just lost his last pare of britches." I didn't hear it now...I just felt it. That along with a cool breeze gliding across my now bare white thighs. No britches = no hobo smile. And somewhere a dove cooed. Crying, I sat in my cart thinking about the adventures my pantalones would have without me. I was lost in despair. Right then I said out loud "I forsake the hobo life for ever!" I will now devote my life to cowboy poetry!" I thought at first it was just a whispering on the wind. A ye ol' brittish whispering? Then I turned my non infected ear to the open door and listened closer. To this day I swear I heard someone say. "Noble sir of Car # 13 manor, please the world needs your ticklish tales! Children weep when a hobo frowns!" Plus the train watchmen will cry if he has not a hobo head to knock before he sleeps!" That voice, that fatherly voice was like caffiene to my soul! With confidence renewed I leaped for joy. Subsequently hitting my head on the door and knocking my self out. When I woke I blinked and looked around. Wet, horse sented ribbon candy was in my hands and to top it all an old potato sack w/ two holes cut for my legs was by my side. Using my meat swabbing bandana as my belt I hitched my britches and continued on my journey. A Journey that would have ended except for the help of some mysterious benifactor!

3 comments:

J.R. said...

I am so glad there is a man out there like Penny who looks after the dreamers and the doers. We might be one hobo shy of a happy bunch if it weren't for that mischievous benefactor.

Kristopher Gillespie said...

The story of this humble hobo nourished my soul like sweet meat juice wrung from his bandana right onto my heart.

-Andy said...

You are soooo above me. After reading this, I'm not even sure what to say or how to say it.