PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

by Jeph Johnson

Kenneth Campanella 
had one-a-them hillbilly smiles 
He'd have no problems askin' gals 
to dance with style 
So with his city boy traits 
and a countryside glance 
He went up to her table in the back 
and asked her to dance 
She asked him his name 
and he replied with a grin: 
"Kenneth Campanella, 
but you can call me Ken" 
She said her name was Barbara, 
"I's born Barbara Ann Cook" 
"I never go by Barbie, 
so don't give me that silly look!" 
He soon had her feet a-spinnin', 
dancing away her fears 
Smiling like the corner of her lips 
were pinned over her ears 
They waltzed across Texas 
and did the one from Tennessee 
They two-stepped so happily 
they were wishing they had three 
After their dance marathon 
they sat down to wet their thirst 
"I'll have a big tall microbrew, 
no, wait, you order first..." 
Barbara batted her eyes at Ken, 
and said, "I'll share his brew" 
The bar became a malt shop; 
them holdin' hands and pitchin' woo 
"I'll give you my number Ken, 
if you promise me you'll wait 
until I've called my friends 
and told them all about our date" 
"That's fine, Barbara, 
I've made a habit of waitin' three days- 
Any sooner and ya'd get an impression 
of desperation portrayed" 
"Oh Ken, you're just so perfect, 
I will wait there by the phone, 
Oh, by the way, I was meanin' to ask, 
did you come here alone?" 
"No, my buddies John and Hector 
are over there playin' pool 
Hector hustles him every time, 
when he drinks John is a fool" 
"My friends Camille and Terry 
were playin' the lottery, 
Let's go see if we can find 'em, 
Terry's tall and wearin' green 
and Camille's got a bandana on 
of some guy named Sawyer Brown, 
Terry's not quite drunk by now, 
might take her another round." 
They laughed and joked and partied hard 
and danced a little more 
and soon all six of the whole gang 
were headin' out the door. 
Hector took a passin' fancy 
to Terry's big green eyes and 
John saw somethin' in the way 
Camille snuggled up beside him. 
So at two o'clock or there abouts 
they all went back to Ken's 
Jumpin' in his indoor swimming pool 
wearin' just their skin. 
It became a party faster than 
you can say "Jay-Dee" 
The deepest end of the pool 
was deeper than even Hector's reach 
Pourin' more Jack Daniels, 
and then mixin' it with Coke 
Barbara fell in the deepest part, 
hit her head and didn't float. 
Ken was turned, his head was spinnin' 
like a roulette wheel 
John was watchin' Terry 
watchin' Hector watchin' Camille. 
They all passed out and in the morning 
awoke only to find 
Barbara now was floating, 
a bit late, but floating fine. 
Ken called the police, the fire trucks 
and an ambulance rescue 
But Barbara lay there pale-naked, 
bloated, in full view. 
So the moral of the story, friends, 
is no matter how wonderful 
Something appears to be, 
it really could be a bunch-a-bull! 
Everyone at the local bar 
thought Barbara and Ken were "it" 
Instead we find Ken jailed away 
for criminal negligence. 
"I bought the drinks that night, 
but we drank too much though, 
My pool even had a life preserver, 
but we just didn't know... 
My Barbara drowned that night 
and I will never drink again... 
Now I sit incarcerated, 
locked away in this here prison." 
So we take our story back 
to that same bar another weekend night 
The party's goin' fine, 
drinkin' and dancin' in the lights... 
And at that same ol' table 
there's a couple smiling in the back, 
Perhaps not Ken and Barbie, 
but then really who's keepin' track?