A Variety in Prose

Where is Iggy-Poo? (Day 1 & 2)














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Where is Iggy-Poo  and Where is Iggy-Poo Day 2?




























"Where is Iggy-Poo?"
Ron Kinard (c) 2009

sitting in the grass on my @$$
leaning against the truck
stuck
trying to write a
silly poem

all of a sudden a bird started screaming
iggy-poo iggy-poo iggy-poo
chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp
doing this for several minutes
the whole while
a woodpecker tapped Morse code
translating and relaying
the message to the lost iggy-poo
iggy-poo never responded

a squirrel happened by carrying a briefcase
not sure if he was coming or going
or looking for iggy-poo
to serve divorce papers
still confused why he never answered
he meandered around smelling here and there
looking for a lost stash or a place to pee
with a puzzled look on his face none the less
eventually he left the area unmolested
maybe looking for the illusive iggy-poo
or a more private place to do his business

it suddenly got quiet after the squirrel left
except for the sound of the breeze
blowing gently through the trees
the sun was smiling warmly
illuminating the world around
causing shadows to sway in time with their creators
that were possibly hiding poor iggy-poo
giving the whole effect a hallucinogenic quality

mesmerized by the moment
sitting in the grass on my @$$
leaning against the truck
stuck
trying to write a silly poem
wondering what happened to iggy-poo
and why he never answered






"Where is Iggy-Poo, Day 2?"
Ron Kinard (c) 2009

sitting in the grass on my @$$
leaning against the truck
stuck again
trying to write a silly poem
while contemplating the demise of Iggy-Poo

warm sunshine smiling warmly once more
creating such a beautiful day
with familiar shadows swaying softly with their creators
as the gentle breeze blows through the wind chimes
setting the mood and freeing the mind
with their melodic, no rhythm beat
easing the mind and freeing the soul
with an almost hypnotic aura

the woods were exceptionally quiet
not a rustle, not a peep
the continuous calling for Iggy-Poo had ceased
thinking maybe his mate had tired of calling
or grown despondent
eventually coming to the conclusion
that Iggy-Poo won't be coming back
did the squirrel with the briefcase find Iggy-Poo
and serve him with the divorce papers
or did Iggy-Poo leave out in search of greener pastures
with the realization that he was being served
and was better off leaving well enough alone
by not being hunted all day by a jealous spouse
a squirrel with his divorce papers and
a woodpecker sending Morse code
translating and relaying an all points bulletin
for the disappearance of the missing and illusive Iggy-Poo
was Iggy-Poo just seeking some solitude
and trying to find true happiness
or are there underlying, ulterior motives at play

an armadillo wearing a Sherlock Holmes hat and smoking a pipe
meandered my way from underneath a shrub
stopped in front of where I was sitting in the grass on my @$$
leaning against the truck
stuck once again
trying to write a silly poem and asked for conversation
he was hard to understand because the pipe was bigger than his mouth
and he had the strangest British accent I've ever heard
it was even stranger to think that an armadillo would be all the way from the UK
but he was very aware by the confusion on my face
he apologized and said he was visiting a second cousin once removed
and that he'd heard that Iggy-Poo had skipped out on a court date
and was offering his expertise to find him

sympathetic to the situation and laying down my writing materials
I became very curious to what was really happening here
the armadillo ask a couple of questions and asked if I had seen or heard anything today
I explained everything that had happened yesterday, leaving nothing out
as far as today goes, no new news is good news
explaining that I'd just returned to the "crime scene" and was looking for inspiration
to write yet, another silly poem which hopefully will bring a smile to someone
and maybe get a little sun on my incandescent white legs

the armadillo seemed a little perturbed by my use of "crime scene"
he proceeded to ask numerous questions rapid fire
thinking that maybe I had something to do with the disappearance of Iggy-Poo
I told him nothing could be further from the truth
the only reason I came out here was to find out what happened to Iggy-Poo
second only to get some inspiration and finally a little sun
eventually satisfied that I had absolutely nothing to do with it
he blew a smoke ring, passed gas and excused himself
as he wandered off in the direction Iggy-Poo was last seen

still sitting in the grass on my @$$
leaning against the truck
stuck and confused
pondering the issue of
do I really want to write another silly poem
as I continue to wonder what has become of Iggy-Poo
maybe tomorrow will be a better day for writing




























~There is no telling what a little fresh air and sunshine will do for the imagination~