old stork’s a good friend
bringing me my next of kin
girl boy scale of ten
joy hope win win
where goeth cousin toad
hopping round its damp abode
disappearing by the load
croaking as its sky erodes
every mile that we go
takes us with it in its flow
to the fork in the road
to the stork or the toad
old stork’s soaring high
with driven gleam in its eye
slinging gifts across the sky
like Santa on a contact high
hear toad croaking loud
a mating call to do it proud
used to be it drew a crowd
silent now its head is bowed
every night and every day
we are pulled along the way
to the fork in the road
to the stork or the toad
as stork takes the well-loved path
we all add up we are the math
floating in placenta bath
borne by flying psychopath
toad takes a different road
passing lawns too green and mowed
passing fields of poisons sowed
with its cracked genetic code
every mile we begin
takes us only further in
toward the fork in the road
to the stork or the toad
stork stork who art thou
come on out and take a bow
come on out and tell us how
you become a sacred cow
listen toad and you will hear
how all of life is held so dear
just procreate and have no fear
ignore the chance your time is near
as we sit and breathe in traffic
could it really be more graphic
at the fork in the road
to the stork or the toad
life is strong it will survive
says the stork in overdrive
never mind the empty hive
mutations will keep us alive
ribbit ribbit gasp and choke
is that some kind of killing joke
laugh it up you can have my toke
I’ll be in my toxic soak
as our world tumbles around
can you almost hear the sound
from the fork in the road
to the stork or the toad
old stork’s not to blame
works hard for its good name
just bringing life though all the same
a vacation wouldn’t be a shame
old toad’s breathing hard
drying up in your back yard
frying in the sun like lard
flattened like a playing card
every day and every night
we are nearer to the sight
of the fork in the road
to the stork or the toad
can’t we all just get along
honk the storks in surround song
life is good it can’t be wrong
and you know we all belong
tell that to toad I’d say
as it whiles its time away
as the time becomes the day
when toad becomes a memoray
as we come to the fork
to the toad or the stork
do we pause at our choice
do we ever give it voice
do we use our mental torque
or stand there like a dork
have we wondered at our plight
can we flee is there flight
do we plea or do we fight
at the fork in the road
for the stork and for the toad
our choice is more than either or
if a window shuts bust out the door
go around and break some glass
go through the roof
break through the floor
get off your ass get off your ass
By Larry Piltz, 2007, In the Year of our Toad
Indian Cove / Austin, Texas
Posted April 3, 2008 / The Rag Blog
Great art selection. How on earth did you find it?