Must Dam A wet one, Chomp, chip, Chaw, chaw. I’ve had a little bit to mulch Because my teeth’ll start to crunch. Bark rushes by. Chip and rip for that dam, Then in the drink—that’s the plan. Soon the “Oakies” will moan and groan At the clear-cut forest floor. I love to wreck ’em, maples, Take down arbors straight, that’s my chore. Water’s cool, and I will stop it up With “dam”aged timber; I’ll work all night, all night. Just dam—gonna be OK, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Must dam, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Just dam. Gonna eat away: Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp. Dams, dams, dams. Lust: dams. It’s nix on shutting my slay-oak mouth— First the bark I girdle, then south. . .tree goes south, right! Don’t roll in poison oak, Rose bushes will give a poke, But I don’t choke as I bite. What’s going down. . .forest floor? An elm disabled, wasted. . . Waste arbors once straight, that’s my chore. Water’s cool, and I will stop it up With dam-guaged timber; I’ll work all night, all night. Must dam. . .its the castor way, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Must dam, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Just dam. Cambium I flay: Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp. Dams, dams, dams. Lust: dams. When I am through, on the forest floor, Wreckage will be cataloged. Groan men stifle cries of “Why isn’t this against the law?!!” But I ain’t gonna give it up; Steadily I’ll chip ’em up till they fall. They’re goners, bit; they’re goners, bit, they flex. They’re doomed, drop after they’re harrowed, yeah! Shorty trunks where trees once stood. . . Like Dutch Elm entropy. All day they’re swirling, them chips, round and round— There’s no tree that won’t fall When there’s been a beaver spree. With a mien, tined, lech I for larch. . .take it down. Must dam. . .in my DNA, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Must dam, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Just dam. Hey, what can I say?! Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp. Dams, dams, dams. Lust: dams. Halve biota, no iota is left when I fetch my quota, Halve biota, no iota is left when I helm my “flota,”* Halve biota, no iota is left when I catch my quota, Halve biota, no iota is left--no ketch in my flota. So, use my muscle, carve ’em down; leaves will rustle. Pine—drop it! Wait till drop stops, then fetch it. Slow flow, stanch it. Creek zipped. Leak?—nix. Rend that last oak (I dropped it!) Nix the crop soak (I stopped it!) Must dam. . .in my DNA, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Must dam, Ya, chew, chew, chew. Just dam. In the deep I play. Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Landsmen—damn!—bust dams. *Fleet of ships A while ago I went on a damming binge. . .mostly songs from the 60s. Matthias suggested I take on “Just Dance” and “Dance Dance.”