Sense of Obligation

Let me open this entry with a quote from someone else. That seemed to stir up a lot of feelings the last time and why pass up the chance to do a little stirring this time.

In my recent reading I came across this piece that struck me profoundly. I know nothing about it, but perhaps some of you do. Just from reading it, I get the impression, that it is part of a much larger piece but I could not be troubled to research it. It reads:

Carrying Capacity
A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”
-Stephen Crane, 1899.

With this in mind, I humbly submit these two pieces.

In Defense of the Old C.B.

I am the one you see picking up a lone penny in the parking lot
I wear the same boots day in and day out
They are all I have.

I fix an old thing
And don’t buy the new,
If I can help it.

I hate wasted food
And move from room to room
Turning off lights as I go.

When I warmed myself by the fire
I was thankful for junk mail
It was heat I didn’t have to buy.

I wash my clothes
When they need it
Washing them too much wears them out

I buy a lot of army surplus
The stuff lasts forever and
I’m found of pockets and khaki + green are my favorite colors.

Don’t get me wrong
I am free with my money
I might be referred to as an “Easy Touch”

I am a heavy tipper
I buy leather jackets
Because I know, with care, my grandchildren can wear them.

I have no problem with buying the best
And ponying up plenty of cash,
If I know it will last.

I have been cold
I have been hungry
I would wish it on no one

Paul Newman once said
“You ever been hungry?
Not just ready for supper,

But really hungry?
To where your belly swells?
You’d eat dog and fight for the bones.”

I find hunger to be
A powerful teacher
Make no mistake.

I count my blessings
And pray at every meal
It might be a long time ‘til I eat again.

My wife tells me I have a depression-era mind
That bothers me none,
If I pay my bills on time.

So here’s to the Cheap Bastards
Ignoring Borders, Breeds and Birth
Scrimping to the last,

Though they come from the Ends of the Earth.


This is of recent musings and was only committed to paper for the sake of this forum. I make no claim of being even slightly profound. This is just one of those things that Big Orange and I have been tossing back and forth for some time.

This next piece is something that I have been contemplating since High School.
This, like most of the stuff I write, is of no redeeming value, at all.


Ode to a Well-Timed Piss

There should be songs, poems, and sonnets
Dedicated to me: a well-timed Piss.

A Blessing
From Pope to Pauper.

No inclination is more universal.

Some crave for love,
Some crave for food,

But all are familiar with Me.

I strike all Drinkers
From water to beer to tea

But when the time comes around,
And the place can be found,

All have unspoken praise for Me.



Please, Dear Reader, treat these humble submissions in the spirit that they were presented and if you find that you have any true taste at all, Please, Please, write something better.