There goes the spitting girl, walking down the street
There goes the spitting girl, wouldn't you like to meet
The spitting girl.

I was in the coffee shop, when spitting girl came by.
Someone in a window seat, must have caught her eye.
She spit at them, it hit the glass, the meaning hit its mark.
She skipped along the sidewalk, as happy as a lark.

I found out all about her, she ran a hot dog stand.
Once she had been homeless, now her life was grand.
I grinned at her inside my car, she gave me a big smile.
You know that, for that spitting girl I'd walk an extra mile.

I'm going to persevere, and parry every punch.
I'm going to that hot dog stand to buy a hot dog lunch
And say hello to the spitting girl, and give her one big smile,
'Cause she taught me to take no guff, not even for awhile.

Al Fontana 8/10/07

Rock after rock and twisted root, the path ascends.
Worn deep in the forest floor, it bends,
Out onto a weathered granite overlook
Now back into the forest . Like a book,
I read the tales on either side,
Of struggling baby pines
That rise above their ancestors
Felled by winter and split open wide.

As I ascend into the land of sky,
Trees grow only to my knees, I pass by.
They look so manicured and tended,
Unlike the forest that just ended.

Do little elves come out at night to trim each shrine
Of dwarf blueberry and miniature pine?
A thought as large as wind declares:
Here at the treeline, someone cares.

Al Fontana 8/2/07

How lovely to dwell
Only next door to hell.
Oh don't look so glum
It's an Elizabethan slum.

The black-haired lass.
Her brain, empty glass,
Is never alone,
with thoughts not her own.

She shouts to the air,
Black eye-shadows glare,
Strangers just stare.
Her audience is where?

Far far away,
A light year and a day
They gather to feed
Of the lady in need.

Al Fontana 8/10/07

It is cold and dark outside.
I turn the heat on open wide.
The radio bids me to hearken,
Wintertime has yet to darken.

Winter will be colder yet.
And sooner than you think, you bet.
So don't turn off your radio,
It won't do any good, you know.

Just think about that mountain top
Where the wind does never stop.
Where it neither howls nor screams
But roars in a relentless stream.

'Til every creature still not froze,
Billows steam from out its nose.
And every branch on every plant
Bows into a wind-blown slant.

So if you're just a wee bit warm.
Remember, that's above the norm.

Al Fontana 8/10/07

I thought I found a can of beans
Elixir of kings and queens .
And yet my spirit now does sag
A can of root beer in the bag.

And yet for beans I have a craving,
Like a lonely prospector raving
Against a lifetime of bad luck,
A can of beans would bring some pluck.

So drink your root beer against the day
When cruel fate says that you must pay.
When you had the ways and means
You bought a root beer instead of beans.

Al Fontana 8/10/07

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