Tuesday, May 30, 2006


I say welcome to the immigrants.
With papers.
Without papers.
No difference to me.
If they do not have papers,
we can give them papers.
We got a lot of paper here.

Paper comes from paper stores.
The paper stores get it from paper factories.
The paper factories make it from pulp.
Pulp comes from trees, used paper and toothpicks.
We use a lot of tooth picks here.

When we walk out of Bobby's Belt Bustin' Buffet,
we always grab a few toothpicks.
Then we stick them in our mouths.
We pick out the little pieces of meat, corn or apples.
Some people spit the little pieces of food
out of their mouths and onto the parking lot.
That is nice because it gives the sparrows something to eat.
Me, I like to swallow the little pieces of food.
I guess that I am just selfish.

But everybody spits out the toothpicks
when they are done with them.
That is where the toothpick people come in.
My friend Tommy Tortuga told me about them.
Every city has them.
They come out at night.
They pick up the toothpicks.
They rinse them off.
The good ones go to a tooth pick refurbishing plant.
There is one maybe a half a mile from here.

The other toothpicks that are not good enough
to be refurbished go to a recycler.
There they are ground up.
Then they go to the pulp plant.
Then the pulp goes to the paper factory.
Then the paper is sent to the paper store.
Governmental bodies, busy bodies and
assorted other bodies buy the paper.

So anyway, we got a lot of paper here.
So all we have to do is write some words on the paper.
Then date it.
Then stamp it.
Then give it the paperless immigrant.
We can do all this before lunch.
Then we can all go to Bobby's Belt Bustin' Buffet.

I like the pickled herring.
My wife likes the lemon merengue pie.


Blogger finnegan said...

Finally someone's sheds some light on the ancient toothpick mystery.

I'd like to say my nights will finally be less restless from the knowledge,
were it not for those supernatural sprites who spin urban myths with
strands of dental floss.

This is a blog I will be coming back to. Good words cooking. And why not? I Snuck in through Patry's pantry.

8:49 AM, June 02, 2006  
Blogger Fred Garber said...

finnegan...Thanks for the kind words. Yea...that toothpick thing had bugged me for years. At first I thought small beavers the size of mice were gathering them up and building dams in the gutters....I am so glad Tommy told me the truth.

9:36 AM, June 02, 2006  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

If I were poor and jobless and couldn't feed my family and there were jobs across the border, I'd cross, too. How can I condemn anyone for doing what I'd do myself? How could I fail to welcome anyone who is, in essence, myself?

The real problem lies with the corporations who want to create a cheaper workforce that can't vote to bring down wages and working conditions for all of us.

Great poem.

9:25 PM, June 04, 2006  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

Left a comment here before, but it didn't show up. Maybe the NSA doesn't want to read my ideas on immigration?

9:27 PM, June 04, 2006  
Blogger Fred Garber said...

Thanks so much for the comments! I moderate the comments here because I was spammed. That means I read them before they are published and I was a little late in reading them. Sorry! But I do not understand why the National Softball Association would care. I think they use metal bats now.

8:54 AM, June 05, 2006  

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