Big Joe could hold his likker,
he was a drinkin’ man.
Corn squeezin’s by the jug full,
store beer drunk can by can.

He staggered home on a chilly night,
left his car right where it stood.
She’d be waitin’ with fire in her eyes,
the whole town understood.

Near five long mile, home from town
Joe wore plumb out half way,
Laid his head on cold, cold ground,
And slept ‘til break of day.

Stopped at the crick to wash up clean,
The crick was runnin’ high.
He fell in deep and washed down stream
and thought he was gonna die.

Powerful service for poor old Joe,
The preacher spouted long.
His wife cried tears the whole durn time,
we sang the Amazin’ song.

Joe’s favorite bar has closed down tight,
his wife has sued the state.
He rests in peace, dried out at last,
of booze and crick, sans mate.

Gus Daum


About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to TOWN TRAGEDY

  1. How fun! Love it. Signed, a fan of Gus’s poetry.


  2. LINDA SANCHEZ says:

    Well i like it!👍👏👍👏

    Linda Let there be Peace 🌈



  3. oneta hayes says:

    Oh, Gus, yur pomes shore do tickle my inards!


  4. shirleycollins2014 says:

    Not clear about the grounds the wife had for suing… Please enlighten this dense woman! 🙂

    Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2015 16:40:47 +0000 To:


  5. MaryJo Comins says:

    Aaaw, poor Joe — or is Joe the lucky one? Nicely done, Gus!


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