Different
lines on the thermometer,
when it happens,
it moves all by itself.

Deliberately
random restless waters,
terrestrials standing on their banks,
recidivists having deposits
and withdrawals
at an inflated rate.

Dungeoneering
--the amplified gesture
means a convenience charge,
elevate me later.

Defibrillation,
I'm on the existential end
of viral paradise,
"the files you have on me"
are a trail of stolen pebbles,
sure to inoculate my final
walk into the sea.

Have you heard the joke
About the economy
Of course you haven't
Because it isn't funny

About the way
This is all going down
Like my bank account
Heading straight South

You can blame it on congress
Or blame it on greed
Not much of a difference
If you're asking me

There's nobody else
That wants to pay my bills
And I can't remember when
My gas tank was last filled

Both my roof and shoes
Are competing for holes
And the line of bill collectors
Won't leave me alone

I used to dine out
In 5-Star Restaurants
Now I can barely afford
A cheap burger joint

Once a man of gain
Now I've nothing to lose
As I'm running late
To pay all that I do

lovely butterfly
ugly pupa in cocoon
metamorphosis.
28/4/2024

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                 Hey! Hey! **! **! Mindless Chants Have Got to Go!

One seeks in vain for a “Hey! Hey! **! **!”
In the Bible, the Torah, the Bhagavad Gita
In Tolkien, Lewis, Frankl, or Yevtushenko
In any declaration of the rights of man

The Greek philosophers never barked “Hey! Hey! **! **!”
Phillis Wheatley would have rebuked that vulgarity
Lincoln yapped no such drivel at Gettysburg
Elizabeth Bishop argued with wit and grace

“Hey! Hey! **! **!” is boorish and ineffectual
And would never be spoken by a true intellectual