Things that Go Bump in the Night

A Poem by Steven Goodykoontz

This is about a story about you and the bumps that you feel every night

You are asleep in your bead

Dreaming of Cakes and Bread

When you hear a gumble

Then you hear a humble

And that is when you wake up

You scan your room for

What is making that sound or

Who is waking you up so rudely.

You see nobody

And pass it off as nothing

And then you fall back to sleep quite soundly..........................................................

................................................

.................zzzzz.........................................................zzzzz....................................zzzzzz........................zzzz.......

zzzzzzzzzzz

Grrrruuuummmmp

You wake with a stir

Wandering what you just heard

And then you hear this sound, Grrrrrrrrr.

You begin to freak

And you start to speak

"Who is there? I have no money to speak

of I am but a jobless man in seek

of a job because I lost my job last week."

Graurrrrrrrrrurrrrrrrrr

That sound

Turns you into a clown

That is bound

Like a dog at a pound

That is going plumb crazy and running around

Because it has no interaction with its own kind and I cannot find another word to rhyme so I will say ground

Because I am such a sucky poet and I cannot write worth a crap and I sound

Like a total jackface but I am getting off subject so I will get back around

To the story that I am, oh I mean poem that I am typing on this page on my brow..........ser.

Well, anyways, you get up from your bead

And then you smack your head

And fall back down hitting your wife's head..........

Unless you are a man and gay then that you be your husband name Fred?

Or if you are a lesbian then her name would be......ummmmmmm........ Tanya Red

Dang it!!!!!! I am getting off subject again with my rant

I guess I just can't

Write and not get off subject

I guess I am suspect

To writing retardation or maybe I have nothing else to write because of writer's block or maybe I just don't like to write poety at this late at night half asleep trying to get this done so you good people can read it and not get mad about how much my other writing's suck so badly and I guess I have to find a word for suspect so I guess I will write some smart word like intellect

Because it make me sound so correct

And now back to the story at hand

Well, I guess I will cut to the chase and be a friend

And say that the humbing and gumbling that you heard

Was nothing but intestional gas fron that burger

That you ate a McDonald's and the grease and fat gasses are trying to escape from your biological exhaust pipe because you just had to order that double quarter pounder with extra blubber

And now it is coming out faster

Than a Hillbilly getting free tickets to NASCAR

And he is running very hard

Because he wants to see the son of Dale Earnheardt

So I guess the moral of the story if you actually in the middle of it commit suicide because of me getting off subject so many flippin times in the meat of my rants because I had to explain things like I am right now, which the moral of the story is, hey did you ever watch Maury. Oh come on Steve!!

No, you come on Steve!!

Who are you?

I am your second personality Tommy Tu

I am a Chinese Jew

Wanting to make out a finacial draft with you

I see that you are trying to start up your 401K

And you may get lost along the way

So I propose a plan that will help you.

Ummm, Tommy Tu

I am sorry to inform you

That while you were talking about your stew

Of investment ideas I seemed to have slipped in a few