I lost the first version.. Here is something different. A conversation between two men at the family estate in Great Papo’s living room.

“Great Papo. I want to do an poem about you.”

Great Papo gives me the side eye stare. “What you talking Youngster? I don’t need no Ode’s to thee or otherwise. I did my mother fucking job. The end.”

“Come on Great Papo. Tell me about your life in the great depression and working and such.”

Great Papo rolls his eyes. “We needed to eat so I took any job I could get to feed your grandpa and great uncles. The end. I didn’t do nothing special. Just worked one job and had side gigs on the side so I could afford building the house.”

“You built a house? Who built it with you? Did you go to school for trainning? Great Papo stop laughing.”

“Holy shit. You got some imagination. My buddies Phil and George helped me because I helped them built their houses. We learned how to build a house from our fathers. We did what we had to do.”

“How come grandpa never taught my Daddy and me to build a house?”

“That fucking boomer. His majesty couldn’t be bothered with learning the shit. He was to busy riding motorcycles and making money to spend on weed.”

“Great Papo. Grandpa says he comes from the greatest generation ever to have lived. Great Papo stop laughing. He was serious.”

Warm Regards

Guardiandogg