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I’m a man named Elon Musk -
Rich beyond imagining;
And I just bought myself a country.
I get to say which way it goes
And who will do my bidding.
My monkeys are well trained and willing
Waiting for my every word
And I have many bold ideas.

I decide what papers print
And who is running Germany.
I may buy myself an island.
Greenland may not be for sale
But there are ways to cinch the deal
If I decide I want it.
Each dollar is a warrior
And I control that army.

I’m a man of untold power
Derived from marks on modern scrolls
Stored in vaults of 1s and Os
That multiply at my behest
And give me rights the ancients never had
To buy my way from Egypt’s sand
Into the gilded halls of history
Ensconced in Washington DC.
ljm
We may have a President, but like it or not, we also have an Emperor
and he wears handmade clothes.
Blanche fille aux cheveux roux,
Dont la robe par ses trous
Laisse voir la pauvreté
Et la beauté,

Pour moi, poète chétif,
Ton jeune corps maladif,
Plein de taches de rousseur,
A sa douceur.

Tu portes plus galamment
Qu'une reine de roman
Ses cothurnes de velours
Tes sabots lourds.

Au lieu d'un haillon trop court,
Qu'un superbe habit de cour
Traîne à plis bruyants et longs
Sur tes talons ;

En place de bas troués,
Que pour les yeux des roués
Sur ta jambe un poignard d'or
Reluise encor ;

Que des noeuds mal attachés
Dévoilent pour nos péchés
Tes deux beaux seins, radieux
Comme des yeux ;

Que pour te déshabiller
Tes bras se fassent prier
Et chassent à coups mutins
Les doigts lutins,

Perles de la plus belle eau,
Sonnets de maître Belleau
Par tes galants mis aux fers
Sans cesse offerts,

Valetaille de rimeurs
Te dédiant leurs primeurs
Et contemplant ton soulier
Sous l'escalier,

Maint page épris du hasard,
Maint seigneur et maint Ronsard
Épieraient pour le déduit
Ton frais réduit !

Tu compterais dans tes lits
Plus de baisers que de lis
Et rangerais sous tes lois
Plus d'un Valois !

- Cependant tu vas gueusant
Quelque vieux débris gisant
Au seuil de quelque Véfour
De carrefour ;

Tu vas lorgnant en dessous
Des bijoux de vingt-neuf sous
Dont je ne puis, oh ! pardon !
Te faire don.

Va donc ! sans autre ornement,
Parfum, perles, diamant,
Que ta maigre nudité,
Ô ma beauté !
Morning, dew, time to part ways.
We are crazy.
All the stages of…
…closeness, we’ve passed through.
A fun night, legs are hurting.
I want…
…more of it.
Everyone’s going somewhere, **** it, this one…
…is going to work. He’s already gone.
Everyone wants to die,
or just keep going.
Home…
…to walk back.
Dew, yellow streetlights, zombies on the buses.
Victory — I’m in bed.
I photographed everything.
I know this.
Now it feels like it’s been six years since…
…those photos.
But not in my head.
I’m going to sleep.
Who’s falling in love?
Taxi drivers?
Sunburned…
…from the sun and endless coffee and cigarettes
that fall onto their bellies.
What the birds overheard

From death to passwords

Migrated to tract housing

Became postage on a slow moving envelope

Somehow ended up as a flag on the moon
It opens in transition
Warm Texas rain in June
Dallas in a cocoon
--
Kingdom of the sad harvester
Crop of tears raised in the sun
Forming long shadows on the screen
--
Starlight in cathedral
This explosion within
Enter the soldiers
Enter the dragon
--
Framed insects
Relying on hidden stairwells
To cover their hasty escape
To seal their fate
--
Inside a fascist restaurant
The men hiccup and cigarette
The women just smile and pirouette
Dancing around the blast zone
Detonating minds and hearts
Just as the end credits roll
You’re never going to have the cake
Learn to like the taste of bread.

You’re never going to wear diamonds
Learn to appreciate cut glass.

You’re never going to hear applause
Learn to marvel at the stillness.

You’re never going to win the gold
Learn to admire the shine of copper.

You’re never going to be adored
Learn to love just being liked.

You’re never going to live forever
Learn to be your best today.
                 ljm
One outta six ain't too bad.
I don’t know what I should do.
I can’t manage to get beneath
All the layers of artifice
To finally find the genuine me.

Who is this wounded entity
Wearing the face of an actress
Stumbling across a dim-lit stage
Living her life for an audience.

Where can I go to find the answers
To all the questions that nag me
And why are there no real denouements
To all all the theatrical plots I live.

What soap can take off all the makeup
Applied so thickly with loving care;
And when it’s finally washed away
What kind of person will be standing there.
ljm
NY Eve Introspection
Shaking, hesitating, I held out a hand.

"Would you allow me the honour of accompanying you on a country walk?"

Jessica lived a few houses down the street from my home. She had moved there with her mum and dad, maybe four years prior. We had never spoken before.

She was a diminutive figure with a sad but pretty, freckled face. Her long red hair was pulled back tight into a ponytail, which accentuated her striking features. And yet, she seemed to have no friends and rarely, if ever, held her head aloft to say hello in passing.

I, too, was an outsider - a timid, shy boy, with no inclination to fall in line and become just another kid from the estate.

Pausing mid-stride, her head bowed above the cracked, damaged paving stones, her arm motioned towards mine. My heart was racing - a mixture of fear and excitement.

"I'd like that very much," she softly whispered.

We joined hands and made our way to the entrance of a small, unmade road that led to green fields and woodland beyond.

"My name is Richard, and..."

Jessica cut in.

"I know who you are, Richard. I was hoping one day to do this."

Smiling, we cast bashful glances.

Soon enough, this unlikely pair were chatting and laughing, like we had always been pals. Jessica even initiated a half-skip of a walk, swinging our arms back and forth.

We picked buttercups that day, made daisy chains, placing them around each other's wrists. Wildlife was out in full force: squirrels, sheep with their young, birds singing sweet, tuneful songs...

All at once, the two children, so ill at ease with the world for so long, were set free.

"Hey, Richard!" my new companion shouted. "Let's pretend we're rabbits!"

I duly obliged.

Falling to our knees, smiling and giggling, we became rabbits indeed - bouncing about, pretending to dig for carrots, running from an angry farmer with his gun.

Until it was time for us to return to our homes for tea.

"Bye-bye, Jessica. I've had ever so much fun. Thank you for a wonderful afternoon."

Dropping her sweet face to one side, smiling broadly, she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.

I blushed.

After walking home and saying our goodbyes, the evening drew in. Sweet dreams of a special day filled the sleep-time hours.

I awoke to hear my parents in deep discussion. From what I could make out, there had been a fire on the estate during the night. A family had perished.

I made my way downstairs.

"Richard," Father looked anxious. "It was Jessica's house. You knew her, right?"

I couldn't speak.

I knew her.

We picked buttercups.
Reposted and rewritten for the umpteenth time! I'm never happy with longer pieces as they are not my forte.
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