He’s a spoiled rich kid
In the land of the one percent.
He feels no remorse for
Those who can’t pay their rent.
He’s popular with fools
And a bunch of toothless boozers
All the while laughing
And calling them all losers.

The favorite son of the GOP
Says nothing with specificity.
He just makes vague promises
He has no idea what his platform is.
He only knows if he stirs up hate
He will win certain delegates.

He won’t be held to the fire
Half-truths work for him just fine.
He’d prefer you not inquire.
Nobody makes him toe the line.
He is paraphrasing fascism
Like he’s the one who invented it.
It’s like Germany in 1930s
They could have easily prevented it.

The favorite son of the GOP
Says nothing with specificity.
He just makes vague promises
He has no idea what his platform is.
He only knows if he stirs up hate
He will win certain delegates.

Here’s the way to make it
Work the best for a new dictatorship.
You take the populace along
On your traveling one-man ego trip
After your party has published
Scurrilous big lies about the opposition
Then spread a lot more rumors
Which gives the voters their ammunition.

The favorite son of the GOP
Says nothing with specificity.
He just makes vague promises
He has no idea what his platform is.
He only knows if he stirs up hate
He will win certain delegates.

Did you miss me when you left?
You can trust that I missed you.
I wish you hadn’t moved away
But maybe it was best for you.
Nobody wants to be a warden
Holding you against your will.
I opened my hand, you flew away.
But, remember, I love you still.

Did you miss the time we had
Sitting together at end of day?
Do you miss the jokes we shared
And the funny things we’d say?
Are this uncomfortable for you?
Have you, even once, awakened sad
Missing the closeness and love
The special bond we knew we had?

Are there many times in a day
You wish you could take it all back
And come back home here to me?
So, why not go ahead and pack?
Your half of the bed is still there
You pillow still has your cologne.
There is no reason either of us
Should continue to live alone.

I understand what happened
Nobody likes a ball and chain
Weighing them down every day.
It’s a silent but deadly kind of pain.
So, I have learned from what I was
And have become a lighter weight.
Come back home, let’s start again.
And this time, we’ll make it great.

She was a vegetarian
Cigarette-smoking drunk
Who fell in love easily
With any handsome hunk.
She was a bible-quoting
Daily Zodiac-addicted muse
In dungarees, leather chaps
And covered with tattoos.

Like a character from Monty Python
She always had pentagram earrings on.
And she loudly wondered constantly
Why nobody ever took her seriously.

She looked like a biker mama,
But she never owned a bike.
A personality like barbed wire
She was so very hard to like.
She growled like a take-off
Out of Cape Canaveral.
Why she wasn’t popular she
Could never understand at all.

She had the strangest body parts
Tattooed or heavily pierced
She looked unlike a human being
And she thought that was fierce.

She walked like The Thing
From the Fantastic Four
And I was never sure she knew
What shower was created for.
Her entire vocabulary was
Based on waste matter and ***.
I really do believe she was
The product of an ancient hex.

Trust me when I say it
There’s no other way to play it
You’re a purentee bigot
There’s no other place to lay it
You might as well admit it.
It’s your shoe and you fit it.
I believe in the point and hit it.
You are a **** ******* bigot.
Now this won’t hurt much, did it?

It was your own tongue and you bit it;
Showed the world and all in it
That you are nearly an idiot
And a race-bating creep along with it.
So, instead of swallowing, you spit it.
You are a callow and traitorous bigot
Who would deny to others in a minute
The rights of citizenship along with it.
The Liberty Bell? You’ll pit it
With the sticks and stones. You did it
Every time you parrot a Fox News tidbit
As there are little but lies within it.
So, there is the door, why not hit it?
Because your illness? No one can mend it.
It’s a blow to your brain, and within it
The lack of anything more than a divot
Where your compassion should be if it
Had even the tiniest solid rivet.
Instead you are a peanut butter widget,
Not much more than stuff found in a privet.
And not much smarter than a piglet.

They badgered me, berated me.
They beat me and they hated me.
They seemed to want me to die
Too soon, then, so did I.

I was different, and that was the reason.
Too many saw that as a form of treason.

I had to adhere to the boundaries
That were set for us artificially
They had no reference to reality;
More to some kind of elite tyranny.

And, I still find it horribly strange
That very little has changed.
The rules are still very much
Incredibly socially out of touch.

Strive to be elite or be beaten
And ultimately, almost literally eaten
By the swarm of mindless fools
That go on defending the rules  

That allow children to be thugs
And, come to school to sell drugs;
That let the criminals escape
And, turn a blind eye to ****
And abuse and battering
But keep the ******* clattering
At PTA, school board and council meetings  
More concerned with politics
Than the real-time subjects
Such as kids afraid of attending
Because the battlefield is never ending.

****** *****, ****** *****
Single and so gay.
Everyone in Christmas mood
Why throw this chance away?
*** *** ***, drunk on ***,
Inhibitions light.
Party time and we are here.
Let’s have some fun tonight.

I just hate to help you think
All us gays are flits.
We do not all act this way
This image gives us fits.
But far too many do
And ***** and drugs don’t help.
Unfortunately gay life has
A bunch of silly whelps.

****** *****, in the halls
And bedrooms when they can.
Some are fond of parties
With wall to wall **** men.
That’s not right, but every night
The Christmas parties start,
You can see which ones are tarts.
They really stand apart.

Sadly though, they hit the news
The rest of us do not.
All you hear of is the ones
Who act up and get caught.
Most of us think Christmas time
Is time to celebrate.
We wrap gifts and make cool treats
And really we can’t wait!

I am more than a tiny bit surprised
At just how deeply ******* I am.
I feel used and abused so strongly
As if I fell for some complicated scam.
The issue is that I never fell for it
Not for a single, half-witted moment.
I never asked for, and worked very hard
To avoid the backlash from this foment.

I shared, and wrote and poeticized it;
This deep disgust and abject fear
That we would witness an apocalypse
At the end of this **** frightening year.
I feel like the four horsemen, together
Have run right over my screaming body
And left a puppet government in place
That is at once illegal, evil and shoddy.

The country that has boasted for years
That we are the home of the free and brave
Has been battered with bigotry so badly
I fear there may be precious little to save.
People are being programmed out of life
With nothing like human rights remaining.
They are ******* on us all, my friends
And want us all to believe it is raining.

We have totally untrained people set up
With their hands on the buttons of war.
We have people heading up our ministries.
That don’t know what their agencies are for.
They make it obvious that they hate us
If we can’t give them a few million bucks.
That means all that free and brave stuff
Is gone for now and we’re all out of luck.

Our leaders sell counterfeit-Rolexy laws
On a national unprecedented scale.
And then they plan to increase the taxes
So, they get more from each and every sale.
And sadly what it means is that we are
Too few of us are really worth our salt.
We’ve sold our souls to human devils
And this disaster is completely our fault.

Conservative these days now means
The richest are the few who glean
The wealth that exists in our land.
The rest of it is sleight of hand.
After decades of this foolishness
We have grown weary of your mess.
We don’t think we can ever win
This country back to from you again.

You seem to hate those who are non-rich
And include them in every austerity pitch.
You refuse to help them feed their brood
Then pay the farmers not to grow food.
You cover yourself with glowing self-praise;
People starve, you grant yourself a raise.
You stand before the rich and genuflect
And subject your constituents to neglect.

You want every child to be born
Then vote to have their allotment shorn.
You seem to want them not to thrive;
You only protect them until they are alive.
You send the soldiers to march and die
And deny them benefits. Tell us why.
Is it because you have your wealth
And no longer care about their health?

The most hateful game you always play
Is making the voters look another way.
While you make laws that take their rights
You engage them in unimportant fights
About who is sleeping with whom today
And who is straight and who else is gay.
Or you worry the people about war
While you funnel subsidies by the score.

You pay your friends and give them jobs
Then call your opponents egregious slobs.
You engage in double-talk about the facts
And claim calumnies are helpful acts.
You accept your fortunes from commerce
And agree to treat the populace worse.
No matter how often you rearrange things
You edits end up being very strange things.

We need to hear our own clarion call
And push this kind of politics to the wall.
We must do more than hope for liberty
And once again fight for the land of the free.
We can’t just sit around at home and mope.
As it is, today, we can only sadly hope
That some liberty you will choose to take
Will cause the regular people to awake.

I am in mourning.
I am regularly in tears.
I mourn the death of freedom
That we thought we had for years.
I mourn the death of patriotism
In an America once so great.
It has been replaced with bigotry,
Overtly replaced by hate.

I mourn the death of my country
That I used to be so proud of.
IT has been slapped int he face
By a storm troopers’ mailed glove.
I mourn the advent of cultism
Where due process is a crime.
I am so sad to see this land
Step back seven decades in time.

I wear a black armband now
To signal the loss of leadership.
Our land had taken up the cause
Of letting rights to equality slip.
I have lost almost all my serenity,
My sadness interrupts my sleep.
I try hard to rise above this fear
But the hatred runs too deep.

We have suffered fools before
In the office of our President.
We had so many years of madness
To picket, protest and resent.
But this time there is open hatred
For well over half our population.
I bow my head and cry out loud
For this dark time in our poor nation.

I’m glad to be home
But home doesn’t like me.
While I was gone
Home didn’t wait for me.

Some treat me like a criminal
And some are calling me traitor
For doing my patriotic duty
And following my legal orders.
If had done otherwise there
I would have been in prison.
I don’t know what this is about
Or from where it has risen.

I’m glad to be home
But home doesn’t like me.
While I was gone
Home didn’t wait for me.

Do people now go to work
And decide what they will do?
And if they want to do nothing
They loaf around? Is that true?
I know they do in Congress now
But has it taken the trickle down
And now following orders is
Above the average working clown?

I’m glad to be home
But home doesn’t like me.
While I was gone
Home didn’t wait for me.

During our tour of duty, we all heard
Some Americans had complained,
Thought we ought to not be there,
Hated us because we remained.
They lost control of our peacetime
Right here on our own home base.
Yet they wanted us to stop the war
No matter that we would be replaced.

I’m glad to be home
But home doesn’t like me.
While I was gone
Home didn’t wait for me.

I saw forties newsreels of ticker tape
Falling on huge marching parades
Celebrating our fighting military
And the sacrifices they had made.
Back home now many neighbors
Curse at me and look at me as scary
Instead of a recently returning hero
From their own country’s military.

I’m glad to be home
But home doesn’t like me.
While I was gone
Home didn’t wait for me.

And Congress voted down help
For those of us who are wounded.
The V.A. used to take care of us
Before the ‘One Percent’ fine-tuned it.
Now many of my brothers and sisters
Who did their duty suffer defeat
At the hands of their own country
And lay dying in our city streets.

I’m glad to be home
But home doesn’t like me.
While I was gone
Home didn’t wait for me.

"I always wanted to wander."
"To wander? To where?"
"From Walla Walla to Uganda."
"That's a wide world to wander!"
"You wanna?"
"Wanna what?"
"To wander?"
"To where, Uganda?"
"Youbetcha!"
"I don't want to onomatopoeia anymore!"

"Are you refusing me?"
"You're confusing me!"
"Do I do that usually?"
"Yes, and it's abusing me!
"I didn't used to be."
"But you see it's no use to me,
So start talking lucidly!
You're coming across abstrusely
By talking so loosely.
You've got a lot of 'splaining to do Lucy."

"It started out grand!"
"But quickly got out of hand."
"But you fail to understand."
"You should have planned."
"Is that a reprimand?"
"You're like the ampersand."
"I don't understand."
"It means 'and per se and';
The pronunciation became bland
And three Latin words became 'ampersand'."

"But, don't you need a vacation?"
"What is the relation?"
"It's a matter of pronunciation,
And sometimes punctuation.
Some words deserve elimination.
Yes, and some deserve illumination.
Thus my original illustration.
In the interest of communication,
Some things deserve enunciation."
"I will accept that explanation."

"But, I'm still hugely fond of
The two of us going to Uganda;
As we internationally wander
I'm sure it will make you fonder
The more the two of us wander."
"But I really don't wanna!"
"Don't wanna what?"
"Go to Uganda!"
"That's what you don't wanna?"
"You betcha!"
"It's okay. They probably won't letcha."

I used to live in a country
That was based on liberty
And where just anybody
Could achieve prosperity
That with assured equality
And working diligently
One could expect definitely
To succeed economically
If you saved all the money
Left over from your salary
To save to bring your family
A step closer to solvency.

Not an impossible proposition,
It was based on the condition
Of a grand national institution
Which promised that stabilization
By taxing us and corporations
With an equitable correlation
Between folks of humble station
And the larger organizations
Working in happy syncopation.
A welcome feeling of elation
Would descend upon our nation
And keep us from stagnation
Or going into nationwide deflation,
Or just as scary, a huge inflation.

Now I look upon our history
And see decades of misery
Laid upon us by calumny
By those meant to fortify
And build up our security.
The constant forces of calamity
If we accept less than probity
From those who have no honesty
Choosing leaders based on beauty
A national cult of personality
Then permit political chicanery
By people with no dignity
Only a greedy criminality
That pretends to propriety
And a devout base of spirituality
When what we have is actually
A kangaroo court of dishonesty
Without a care for the citizenry.

I truly fail to understand
Why it’s gotten out of hand.
It seems so very odd
There are so many God
Is supposed to have ordained
Some aren’t even trained.
There is an absolute dearth
Of an actual true rebirth
In the revivifying blood of Jesus.
It’s almost like allergic sneezes.

Pastures full of pastors.
Priests and beasts.
Defectors and rectors.
Pickers and vicars.
Bleachers full of preachers.
Clerics and hysterics.
Papal delegates and celibates.
Televangelists and Adventists
And hostile Pentecostals.

We are becoming overrun
With an ecumenical kind of fun
In which before we can holler
Another puts on a backward collar
And starts tell us what to do.
When the rebirthing is through
They are on their park soapbox
And ******* about our Xbox;
Telling us what we should watch
And the coffee in our coffee klatch
Is unGodly because Jesus never drank it.
Makes me want to grab and spank it
Before it multiplies. Jerks, those guys.

Pastures full of pastors.
Priests and beasts.
Defectors and rectors.
Pickers and vicars.
Bleachers full of preachers.
Clerics and hysterics.
Papal delegates and celibates.
Televangelists and Adventists
And hostile Pentecostals.

When children go hungry;
And even water is scarce,
When they have no shoes
And no country leader cares.
When school is too expensive
And illness goes unchecked,
Whose cause advances
As the economy is wrecked?

Greed is often the reason
If you ask yourself why.
Neglect and starvation
Makes the angels cry.

When parents neglect children
And seem to easily forget
That animals are not children
And children are not pets.
Everyone needs love and care
And a feeling they belong.
Any other treatment of them
In every culture is wrong.

Power can be made evil
For those who live by a lie.
People used as chattel
Makes the angels cry.

Some of us feel so lost
Overrun by a busy crowd
Seem to find our days are
Covered by a dark cloud.
Our old ones suffer alone
In tiny rooms of shame.
Our goal-oriented society
Seems to forget their name.

So, there is your answer,
You need not ask why.
Yes is the answer.
Indeed, angels do cry.

It’s a **** good thing
I didn’t have a rich dad.
I would probably have
Had more woes than I had.
I would have missed
Opportunities to learn
And how many ends of
A candle one can burn.

I might have bought
My way out of mistakes
And would have skipped wisdom
One gets from bad breaks.
I might have gotten out of
Some lessons one needs
And given myself over
To haughtiness and greed.

A rich dad might have relished
Values that shouldn’t be taught
Like cheating and swindling
And the fun of not being caught.
I might have learned lying
About who and what I am.
Maybe how to look good outside
While inside being a total sham.

I might have learned to be
Like the in-crowd and flaunt;
Revere the rich and the famous
And deride those in want.
I had my troubles as it was
And managed to ***** up enough.
I rose above my shortcomings
Possibly because life was rough.

Christ, religious people are boring,
Just like the nutsos in the street.
Half the time they start me snoring
So I run away in abject defeat,
Because reason can’t get through
A wall of defensive superstition
Which gives us back nothing but
Mumbo jumbo to every question.

If the neighborhood catches fire
It is only but a holy God’s will.
(It would be great we victims had
A place we could send God the bill.)
When innocent children die off
Is that what a loving God wanted?
That "God sees the sparrow" stuff
Gets rather quickly blunted.

What kind of wrathful *******
Lets genocide have a field day
And doesn’t make widespread disasters
Permanently dry up and go away?
If God created all of us people
In his own best saintly image,
He sure must be an ugly sod who
Needs to go back to scrimmage.

If a country had a dictator
As capriciously vicious as him
It would surely trigger worldwide
A call for a God with better whims.
For thousands of years now, it seems
People have been issuing prayers
To some kind of entity at large
That is constantly taking us nowhere.

Maybe it is exactly as possible
That this whole show is erroneous
And the big guy on a cloud is fiction
Made up out of fear and just bogus?
Isn’t this just some cave-dweller dream
To explain what folks found frightening?
Should we be running our world today
By ideas of folks afraid of lightning?

Omigod, Donald T. ****,
You unconscionable creep,
You are disgusting enough
To cost us all sleep.
If lies were US dollars
You sonofabitch
You would truly be
Obscenely rich.

It’s not enough for you
To have gold water faucets,
Crystal mirrors everywhere
And marble floors in closets
Now you want to play at
Being a savvy politician
Stands for Christian principles
From the *******.

Omigod, Donald T. ****,
You unconscionable creep,
You are disgusting enough
To cost us all sleep.

With a changing cast of women
You call your lawful wives.
And you’re the one who wants
To control our very lives?
You utter your vituperation
At poor and the non-Christian.
Is having the world hate you
Part of your final mission?

If lies were US dollars
You sonofabitch
You would truly be
Obscenely rich.

You also want control of
Our country’s financial hopes.
If we fall for that stupid tale
Then we are a nation of dopes
Because you have bankrupted
More than the Monopoly game
Would allow a toddler to have
And that is quite a shame.

Omigod, Donald T. ****,
You unconscionable creep,
You are disgusting enough
To cost us all sleep.
If lies were US dollars
You sonofabitch
You would truly be
Obscenely rich.

No, Mr. T **** please do
What is proper and fitting;
Call up the press and say
That you are finally quitting.
Tell them you were just testing
To see what the others would do.
So, kiss our collective ***** goodbye
And take with you that dumb hairdo.

Donald Twittler, not a pretty picture
Sees himself as some kind of king.
Makes constant promises,
Doesn’t know what integrity is,
His word really doesn’t mean a thing.
Donald Twittler reveres Adolf ******
Wants a Nuremberg rally of his own.
He craves mass adulation
From a battered nation
From the mistakes that are his alone.

Donald Twittler phones from the *******
Rages  online in the middle of the night.
Each complaint anyone makes
He claims they’re all fakes
As if he's ever known wrong from right.
Donald Twittler, the personification of a drifter,
Has no relationship with the truth at all.
Don’t bother asking why;
He’s the best his Dad could buy,
And he’s never had to be on the ball.

Donald Twittler, a slimy sort of critter
Gets climaxes from national attention.
He has never had morals;
Buys his way out of quarrels,
If he had a soul it’s far beyond redemption.
Donald Twittler, thinks he’s better than ******
And we should all kiss his big fat ***.
More than half of us disagree
And urge him to quickly flee
Because most of us would just as soon pass.

Donald, what is wrong with you?
You’re really acting strange.
It’s like your mind has measles
Or bubonic plague or mange.
Something sick is going on
Down deep inside your mind.
It seems to make you stupid
As well as deaf to facts and blind.

Maybe sometime decades back
You might have made some sense
But we have watched a long time now
And it hasn’t happened since.
You don’t seem to be able to
Tell the facts from the lies.
You are getting stranger daily
We can see it in your eyes.

You always were a reprobate
A fact you couldn’t really hide.
Your responses were so obvious
We saw the truth you kept inside.
You looked down on women,
Looked at them as just toys.
You carefully referred to gays
As naughty twisted boys.

You never had much use for blacks
Except for menial kinds of labor.
You certainly didn’t want any of them
To end up as your neighbor.
And now you want control of
The Presidential nuclear codes.
Do you want to sell them off
To buy stuff to put up your nose?

No, Donald, you are sick as hell
And we’ll be glad when you are gone.
The rest of us have had enough
And think you should move on.
Maybe you can get a job
Playing high stakes liar’s poker.
That might fit a guy like you:
A dangerous and unfunny joker.

Donnie and Vladimir
In a dacha by the sea
H. U. M. P.
I. N. G.
They’re ******* freedom
And democracy.
Sooner or later they will
Get to you and me.

Vlad likes people
On their knees the best.
And Donnie will do
Anything for a
Family crest.

They both want to become
Dictators for life.
They already believe they
Get to ***** your wife.
It’s only their divine right
They wonder “who could blame us?
After all, we deserve it.
Because we’re famous!”

Vlad keeps a secret
He thinks Don a fool.
But Donnie isn’t bright so
Vlad gladly takes Don
Back to school.

Vlad knows Donnie is
A ***** for acclaim
And public adulation
Which is pretty much the same
So why not use this clown
To accomplish his goals,
And steal all the money
And everyone’s souls.

So, there they are
Each gambleaholic whales
Lording it up and robbing us
When they should be in jail.
The fools that let them rule
And the ones who are to blame
But we have to sift the ashes
While the world is in flames.

Loosey goosey, Gary Busey
Makes more sense than you!
What do you see, big kaboosie?
What would Vladdy Putin do?

Fussy wussy, presidential woosy
Tell a whole buncha more lies.
Flappy *****, big **** slappy
The best your money buys.

Choppy woppy, never stoppy
Even when caught on tape.
Shouty, pouty, tough it outy
Completely out of shape.

Fleecer, squeezer, ugely obese
Shadow of your youth
Ripoff, tipoff, always lipoff.
Incapable of truth.

Heapy cheapy, never sleepy
Won’t pay your own bills.
Brainless pain, runaway train,
All your ideas can ****.

Neego, peego, bloated ego
The little kids you scare,
Shard, pard, big tub of lard,
As attractive as your hair.

Don't call Trump a chimpanzee.
Chimpanzees can't talk.
Don't call him a pile of ****.
A pile of **** can't walk.
Don’t call Trump an Orange
That would be indiscreet.
You see, different from an orange
Trump is in no way sweet.

Don’t call Trump a swindler
Take his fat *** to court
Because when he needs proof
He will always come up short.
Don’t accuse him of bribery
Unless you have the proof.
He’ll just change his residence
To another unlisted roof.

Don’t call him a squanderer.
He’s not if it’s his money.
Trump likes stealing from other people
He finds that hilariously funny.
Don’t accuse him of gross lechery
He feels that is his right.
Don’t appeal to Trump’s conscious.
He doesn’t have one quite.

Don’t expect Trump to speak the truth.
He doesn’t know what that is.
When they were passing out ethics
He was off taking a wizz.
Don’t whine to us about that ****
And how he disappoints.
He’ll claim you heard him wrong
And that is his only point.

Don’t hope everything will work out
In any way in your favor.
Doing what’s right for regular folk
Is not Donald Trump’s flavor.
Don’t look for anyone in authority
To rescue you from the dump.
And, of course, most of all
Don’t call Trump.

Don’t leave me yesterday
Turn the clock back please.
Twenty four hours went by
Much too quickly like a sneeze.
You can tell I am trying hard
To keep a sense of humor here.
But no matter how many jokes
You still aren’t anywhere near.

Twenty four hours is forever
When it’s all about yesterday.
I find no way I can be strong
Now that you are gone away.
So, I really want to do it;
Turn the clock back some way.
That way I can say to you
Don’t leave me. Yesterday.


Don’t say goodbye yesterday;
Those words hurt to hear.
Please come back to me today
And stay at least one year.
Perform a miracle for me, please
By inventing time travel
And do it quickly, love of my life
Before I begin to unravel.

Twenty four hours is forever
When it’s all about yesterday.
I find no way I can be strong
Now that you are gone away.
So, I really want to do it;
Turn the clock back some way.
That way I can say to you
Don’t leave me. Yesterday.


Change your mind yesterday
And let’s make future plans.
If you pack and leave yesterday
Today is out of my hands.
Stay with me, please, yesterday
And today and all tomorrows.
I crumble inside and want to cry
Overcome with my sorrows.

Twenty four hours is forever
When it’s all about yesterday.
I find no way I can be strong
Now that you are gone away.
So, I really want to do it;
Turn the clock back some way.
That way I can say to you
Don’t leave me. Yesterday.

Don’t touch me.
I don’t know you,
A stranger to me,
I don’t allow you.
You smiled at me
From across the place.
In this noisy nightclub
You’re just a face.

You might be a cook
Or maybe a movie star.
I don’t know you at all.
I don’t know who you are.
You don’t have permission
To put your hands on me
And treat me like someone
Who is desperate and ******.

I totally understand
The way things are today.
After all I’m in this bar;
It’s like I seem to say
I’m one of those types
You take home for some fun.
That might be what you think
But I am simply not that one.

You see, all I can go on
Is a matter of your looks
And I am not a psychic
To tell angels from crooks.
So, thank you for your offer,
But I am going to pass.
I turned you down even though
You patted me on my ***.

I won’t woke up tomorrow
Full of sorrow and regret.
I won’t be the conquest
You will quickly forget.
I’ll be the one who has
Taken the time to say
I understand your game
But, I don’t want to play.

Hey ** and there you go
And when you get there
Well, there you are.
Now, ain’t that something;
Better than nothing?
Two guys walk into a bar.

The barkeep asks them
What will you guys have?
The both gave him a look.
I would like to be rich
Both guys said, but that
Is neither aa creek or a brook

Two little old ladies
Were rocking on a porch
Throwing fruit at passersby.
Their husbands hid out
Finding it were best
In case someone asked why.

All this and all that was
Somewhere not quite all
The way to awesome.
There were a few pretty boys
And then some women that
Were known as handsome.

Eenie meenie miney moe
Olly olly oxen fee.
Whattya know about that?
Higgeldy piggledee
Hotsy and totsy, has
Your tongue got your cat?

Thingamjigs, doolollies
Gadgets, whirlygigs
Don’t amount to nothing.
Whatsername and Miss Thing
That ought to do it right now
To keep your beer frothing.

I’m sliding down the ladder of life
Doing the Jacob thing in reverse.
Most of the people I meet now
Are either medical doctors or a nurse.
I’m in that phase where my hearing
Is about as good as my vision.
I don’t walk all that well at all
Due to my aging condition.

That’s the way things sometimes go
You might be clueless or you might know.
There may be signs so you can guess
Or you may find yourself a total mess.

Looking back over who I have been,
Like most of the young, I didn’t forsee
Or take much to heart the chances
That things like this would happen to me.
I thought myself invulnerable and
Incapable of ever growing old
Callously heeding no elders’s words
I simply refused to be told.

I thought the warnings I heard
Were from some clueless wags
And burned candles at both ends
Until the wick began to sag.

Now the creamy sooth skin,
Or what version I once ever had,
Begins to betray with brown spots,
And I admit it once made me mad.
But I have managed to accept
Many of the shortcomings of tomorrow.
It’s the loss of mobility I dislike;
That delivers me so much sorrow.

There are ladies on the internet
Who are offering me joy.
They say they can transform me
To a man instead of a boy.
Another guy has promised me
A massive ***** size.
I’m not sure I am comfortable
To that talk from a guy.

Another woman from Nigeria
Said her husband has died
With a bank account chock full
Of Krugerands inside.
All they want from me they say
Is a check for one grand
And they will put half of the gold
Into my greedy hand.

Now, that and the ***** ladies
They say live near my place
Are part of what the internet
Pushes daily into my face.
But I have become smarter now
And I fully understand
That buxom comely lass is really
A fifty five year-old man.

Bill Gates will not be sending me
A lifetime Disney Park pass.
And there are no fifty dollar diamonds,
They are all made of glass.
There is no secret bank account
In Nigeria, I truly feel.
But that pill that makes my ***** grow?
Now that, I am sure, is real.

Waddley bimbely
Nothing is new.
Sometimes I don’t know
What I should do.
Walkily talkily
Human kazoo.
I have learned better
Than trusting in you.

Whiffily sniffley
Embezzle and lie
Authority snority
Let it go by.
Cheatum and beatum
If they complain
Skim from the top
Buy a new plane.

Hoppity boppity
Games of chance
Always let poor people
Pay for the dance.
Scrappity snappity
Selling their wares
***** about usury
Nobody dares.

Slippity slidery
Constant rendition.
Use public money
To buy politicians.
Graftery crafters
Buy media too.
Make some more billions
To see their way through.

Downton Abbey’s going off the air.
I’m not through yet, it’s just not fair.
Nothing before that show ever had
That kind of class, that degree of flair.
Life without my weekly Downton
Is too sad and inordinately scary.
What will I do without my frequent fix
Of the elegantly snarky Lady Mary?

And will the feckless Mister Barrow
Ever develop a true human soul?
I am sure this handsome actor fellow
Will never again get such a meaty role.
And the Dowager Duchess herself,
She is not someone easily done with.
She is, after all, tradition incarnate,
And under all that, she’s Maggie Smith.

Bates and his Anna filled my heart
With alternating sorrow and great joy
Almost as much as a lady of nobility
Marrying the handsome chauffer boy.
Dresses and hair lengths shortened
And nobility began to get real jobs.
All this was before ****** flared up
And turned starving folks into a mob.
I never missed that we were seeing
The transition from ‘la belle epoque’.
That time was running out for that
In the worlds ever-changing clock.

It was a yesterday we never knew
We of the age of electric equality.
We got to look inside and see it
In all its grandly overdressed reality.
I had begun to recognize artwork, in
Lovely strolls through baronial halls
And huge family meals at table.
I am sorry that it is over for us all.

I’d like to make a wish.
Do I get a wish or is
Society taking a pish?
I wish some people used mouthwash
By the gallon every week
Because they reek.
And, I am not talking bad
No, I am sad to say
They take my breath away
And make me **** in
Like I am hitting good ****.

They really need to brush
Then floss, then swoosh.
Or, I could kick them in the toosh
And scream in their face
“You’re a disgrace!
Surely you don’t kiss your mother
With that breath that could smother
And render her gasping
Grasping for one more breath
Before her death from asphyxiation.
So, for the betterment of the nation,
Your state, county, city and block
I give your forehead a knock
Saying ‘Hello! Something died in there!”

So, when you go in there, to the john
Don’t make yourself gone
Until you have poured something in
That fetid **** above your chin;
Something that will **** the bugs
You got from too many drugs,
Too much crap and too little good.
I’m sure if you tried, you could
Free us from this stench.
Take the mouthwash off the bench
And put it into play
For the sake of the team.

No, this isn’t a dream.
I’m really saying it.
No sense downplaying it.
It’s not outrageous at all.
It’s a wake-up call.

Fear, the maker of dreams,
Of what seems to be reality
Often leave me in screams,
Fatally afraid of my mortality.
Morality not in question
I forge ahead in my temerity,
Heedless of resolution
Resolutely accepting intensity.

At each preposterous scene
I react as if I am undeserving
Unable to know what it means
Pretending they’re not unnerving.
Just like in my waking real life
I try to tough it out and brag
But my villainy is cut with a knife
The specter keeps in a velvet bag.

I want so badly to wake up
But the dream gave me a potion
To drink from a bejeweled cup
Filled with a delicious poison.
And the other specters are sweet
Speaking in enticing voices.
The follow me with silent feet
Viciously narrowing my choices.

I want to wake up when I want
And then slowly get to my feet.
I want to have a breakfast
That is very much like a treat.
I want to dawdle over my coffee
And take lazy, leisurely stock.
And, I want to do all of this
Without waking to a clock.

For I hate that awful buzzing
That it takes to shake me awake.
I find the racket ruins dreams
And is too much for me to take.
I want to sit where late morning
Sends its sweet shine in on me
While I sup and sip and dine
Like a member of royalty.

Oh, I am not so snooty myself
That I don’t prepare this repast
With my own two clever hands
And at that, amazingly fast.
It’s almost like my hands want
To hide from my waking mind
That the meal I am having is not
Not the made by Ritz-Carlton kind.

I want to waken to cognizance
In a particularly decadent way.
I find it totally disgusting to
Rush madly into any given day.
I’d sit in smoking jacket and slippers
If I had such magazine attire.
And if it were chilly upon rising
I would magically manifest a fire.

Of course I don’t have a fireplace
To go right along with plain jammies
So instead of brocade robes and such
I very short of mystical whammies.
I can’t witch up this storybook stuff
Of class A, high-class pomposity.
But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t wish
To have it all appear before me.

Dream horses
Come to me tonight.
Take me away from here
And show me sights.
Show me the cloud valleys
And canyons of thunder
While I pull up the covers
And hide deep under.

Dream horses
Let me ride with you tonight.
If we ride out together
I know everything will be all right.
I’ll laugh and call out to you
And all the worries I had today
Will fall behind our happy pace
And the world will go away.

Dream horses
Give me memories I can take
Into the dawn and cherish them
When I up and I am awake.
I will gather those memories
And I will play them again
As I wait for those nighttime
Hoofbeats and neighing to begin.

Dream horses
Come to me tonight.
Take me away from here
And show me sights.
Show me the cloud valleys
And canyons of thunder
While I pull up the covers
And hide deep under.

I’ve dreamed I was falling asleep
And shaking myself to keep awake.
There’s only so much weirdness
And crap a poor dreamer can take.
It was all involved with friends you see
That I don’t see now, because they
Were stranger than my dreams
Or maybe I was. Back in the day.

I would be partying with them
And walking remembered streets
But I’d look around and everybody
Found other people to go meet.
Then suddenly the Hollywood
I knew and loved for twenty years
Became Kansas City boulevards
And Hollywood totally disappears.

Or maybe I’m coming home
At the end of a tiring long day
And look around, find myself
Saying, no way. No effing way;
This is not my apartment!
It’s fine, I kind of like the place
But someone is pulling a joke
The housekeeping is a disgrace.

Then someone would come in
Who I was supposed to know
And this chick is my roommate?
Oh, no. This woman has got to go.
But before I can get my head
Wrapped around standing up
My family is there too, cooking
Handing me a steaming hot cup.

Well,, now I can’t offend them
So, I sit my *** back down.
I don’t want to seem ungrateful
Like some unfunny kind of clown.
******, I leave to go for a walk
Thinking I am in Tucson but then
This is the Country Club Plaza
And I’m back in Kansas City again.

One time I was building something,
Under an expensive sort of contract
But none of the sub-contractors
Or the assistants knew how to act.
They were putting the thing together
Like a Rube Goldberg machine.
I was going ballistic on them all;
The ugliest thing I had ever seen.

These are the dreamworlds for me
On a regular, but often bizarre basis.
Streets change while walking
And people I know change their faces.
Or I am tasked to do something
Involving technology or looming mass
I end up getting no help at all
And wind up falling right on my ***.

You’re a bumper riding
Traffic sliding
Maniac on wheels.
You make me want to
Back up into you
So you know how it feels.
You’re a narcissistic
Unrealistic
Self-important brat.
Somebody needs to
Bend you over a knee
To show you where it’s at.

You may be a good daddy at home
And your family is glad to see you.
But when you get behind the wheel
Other drivers are sad to see you.

You zip around us fast
Breaking traffic laws.
And flipping us the finger
If you get a blow out
Or maybe hit a tree
Perhaps nobody will linger.
We’ll shake our heads
We might call the cops
And sadly report the wreck,
But to tell the honest truth
It’s hard to feel sorry if your
Rudeness breaks your neck.

You may be a loving hubby at home
But not out on the street,
The way you treat your neighbors
Is anything but sweet.

If there is anything to karma
And of course, to dharma
You will get yours soon.
The payback should eventually
Teach you not to be so much like
The Creature from the Black Lagoon.
What’s the hurry anyway?
Where are you rushing to
In your hiked-up truck?
You’re not dead yet
Thus so far you haven’t run
Through your streak of luck.

Am I talking nonsense
Can anybody hear me
Can they hear what I say?
Are they listening today?

I HEAR YOU!

Is there something worth saying?
Or am I only just praying?
Am I preaching to a crowd
Or just shouting out loud?

I WILL HOLD YOU,
I WILL CHERISH YOU.

Am I shouting too loudly
For anyone to hear me?
Do they not hear the joy
Or do they hear only noise.

I AM NOT RUNNING AWAY.
I WILL STAY WITH YOU TODAY.

I am only here to help you
In everything you choose to do.
To help you find your way through
To find out what is true.

YOU MAY HAVE WHAT I NEED.
I WON’T TURN IT INTO GREED.
I HEAR WHAT YOU ARE SAYING
I WILL DANCE TO THE MUSIC
YOU ARE PLAYING.

Life is not all that you are believing;
It can be so painfully deceiving
Because people can get rich
From creating the perfect pitch.

YOU TAUGHT ME LIFE IS LOVE;
LIFE IS MORE ELEGANT THAN LIES.
I BELIEVE MORE THAN WHAT IS SEEN
BY USING ONLY MY TWO EYES.

Clowns can dress as businessmen
And go on and act the fool again
It’s up to you to always remember
What they are December to December.

MEN HAVE WALKED ON THE MOON,
I HAVE SEEN TOO MANY TREES HEWN.
DO THOSE THINGS EXCLUDE EACH OTHER?
HOW CAN I CALL THAT PERSON A BROTHER?

Stay aware of the secret clown.
Look into faces and stare them down.
Stay aware of what they do.
Don’t let them successfully steal from you.

I HAVE COME BECAUSE BIDDEN
TO BE CAUTIOUS OF WHAT IS HIDDEN.
YOU HAVE TRIED TO WAKE ME
TO THINGS THAT WILL BREAK ME.
YOU SING TO ME OF LOVING LIFE
AND WARN ME OF THE HIDDEN KNIFE.

Why listen to lies in happy talk?
Why would you sit when you can walk?
Why be fooled another day
When you get get up and run away?

TODAY I HAVE LEARNED TO WALK AWAY
FROM WHAT I WANTED YESTERDAY
IF WHAT I WANTED SPOILED ME
FROM TODAY’S BEAUTY.

Lies can come in any disguise.
Invest your future in those who are wise.
Teach yourself the Freedom song.
Listen to wisdom and you won’t be wrong.

THE FREEDOM SONG
CAN NEVER BE WRONG
IF IT IS SUNG
BY OLD AND YOUNG
TO CELEBRATE
AND REFUSE TO WAIT
SO ALL OF HUMANITY
CAN FOREVER BE FREE.

The Dufus Oompaloompa in Chief
Is nothing but a high-level thief.
He constantly lies and all he tries
Is a rich man’s version of relief.
He’s another rich guy on welfare.
He uses every ***** trick he can use
You see his crooked face everywhere;
He keeps his ugly mug in the news.

His morality is virtually nonexistent
He’s never been a commendable fellow.
And because he is truth-resistant
He’s a braggart, a liar and he’s yellow.
His life has been a study in selfishness,
He’s been a *******, a predator and crook.
His biography is an unreal literary mess.
As he has never liked going by the book.

Listening to him speak you can see
He is lying with almost every word.
He can’t interact with anyone honestly
You can’t believe a single word you heard.
Inside his head must be something like
A painting by Bosch or Salvatore Dali
Even if his head ends up on a pike
He’ll still be as bright as a collie!

My first friend was a big dog
A great big beautiful boxer.
His name was Duke; he loved me
Seemed prepared to stay forever,
Protecting me from any and all
In our house of anger and noise.
Two careless adults lived there
And no other girls or boys.

There was just the three of us;
I, the first child, and damaged,
Whose infancy was one of abuse,
Whose trust had been ravaged.
A child naturally cries sometimes
And irritates a self-centered dad
He can approach and gesture
And convince the dog he is mad.

Beloved friend, center of my world
Was gone from me the very next day.
Until I was an older child I was told
Dad raged then he took Duke away.
Duke didn’t know, nor did dad
That on that sad and scary day
Dad took not only my doggie friend
But he took trust in my dad away.

Duke was only doing his job, but
Dad saw it as a protective stance.
When that dog growled at him
He **** near peed in his pants.
“I won’t have a dog that threatens
Living in my own house with me!”
I know after living decades at home
What was threatened was dad’s authority.

The Dummocraps and RepubLIE-CONs
Are engaged in a devastating war.
The RepubLIE-CONs hate everyone
The Dummocraps hate decisions more.
While the RepubLIE-CONs are engaged
In selling away the public’s rights,
The Dummocraps fight among themselves
And bring confusion to the fight.

So, the RepubLIE-CONs don’t need
To bother tearing Dummocraps down,
They just stand back and watch while
Dummocraps knock each other around.
Any effort the Dummocraps try to make
Ends on a pathetically useless note
Because over half the Dummocraps
Don’t even bother to go and vote.

The RepubLIE-CONs, on the other hand
Have an insane, but vocal minority
That are paid very well to do as told
By an even smaller, rich minority.
So, a country that is mentally lazy
And generally stupid in the bargain,
Lets itself get tangled up in lies
Propaganda and obfuscating jargon.

It’s all really that easy, it seems
When you look at what is true.
The voters in this country feel
That voting is too hard a thing to do.
So, they sit on their ***** and then
Complain at every law they pass
That robs them of their place in life
And destroys all but the upper class.

Dumpatrump
All the Trumps
Make them live
At the city dump.
Take their money
Every single clump.
Get rid of that
Ugly orange ****.

Now we all know for sure
What greed sounds like when it talks.
We have no more doubt
We know how it looks when it walks.
But some people still need
More lessons in crooked politics.
They need more time
Being beaten by the Trump Stick.

Most of us only need
To mash our head against bricks
For a couple of times
Before the lesson finally sticks.
But Trump followers need
To be knocked totally unconscious
Or something harsher until
They take their functions serious.

Dumpatrump
All the Trumps
Make them live
At the city dump.
Take their money
Every single clump.
Get rid of that
Ugly orange ****.

So many fools involved
And so much money and power
They make the world worse
With each hour by scary hour.
It sometimes seems as if
They think we don’t see them.
Unfortunately, some don’t.
I sure don’t want to be them.

The selectively stupid
And the carefully politically blind
Are driving this country down.
And by saying that, I’m being kind.
The average person is weak
In the head if not in the back.
It is going to take miracles
To get our injured country back.

Dumpatrump
All the Trumps
Make them live
At the city dump.
Take their money
Every single clump.
Get rid of that
Ugly orange ****.

We should throw a party and then
Dump a Trump
Give Trump lumps
Make him jump.
Drag him over the same kind of bumps
He dragged us and laughed at us.

Dump a Trump!
Deserves a massive thump;
He’s a whiny grump!
Dump a Trump!
Anyone who has the name of Trump
Should kiss our collective ****!

We should get together and just
Dump a Trump
Oust that schlump
To the city dump.
Treat him like he treated those before
And send him home on a city bus.

Dump a Trump!
Deserves a massive thump;
He’s a whiny grump!
Dump a Trump!
Anyone who has the name of Trump
Should kiss our collective ****!

Let's call a convention and
Dump a Trump!
He’s a festering clump
As dim as Forest Gump.
New Yorkers call him a stupid ****.
We hope all see that he is finally busted
That his former shine is obviously rusted.

Dump a Trump!
Deserves a massive thump!
He’s a whiny grump!
Dump a Trump!
Anyone who has the name of Trump
Should kiss our collective ****!

We called it dump country
Tons and tons of junk
Old bicycles and plenty
Of bottles from the drunks.
The legal dump sites
Had not been arranged.
This was now the city,
Things yet to be arranged.

Four little kids, broke ***,
Not much money for toys.
It was the end of the fifties,
Bad times for little boys.
We made our own adventure,
Way before Disneyland.
We left right after breakfast
To us, the whole trip was grand.

We found amazing things
And brought them all home.
I found a gold painted Buddha
Under a kind of glass dome.
Jim found a tricycle there
And cleaned it up real nice.
It was a really good dump site
We went a lot more than twice.

We called it dump country
We had it to ourselves.
Just us four busy bumpkins.
Santa’s ***** little elves.
We found wheels and things
To build our own little cars.
We got cut up a bit sometimes.
I still have one of the scars.

Over in dump country
The one nearest to our place
Sam found a bit of money
One penny with an Indian face.
But what we found there
Added up to a treasure chest.
It sounds silly but they may be
The memories that were best.

DUMPY TRUMPY

Dumpy Trumpy
Sat on his ****.
Lumpy Trumpy
Infamous ****.
He is not a friend
To the left or the right
And has no live dog
In the political fight.

Dumpy Trumpy
Pats his own back
Bragging how he is
Way ahead of the pack
Of half-witted politicos
With nothing to offer.
He thinks he will win
On the strength of his coffer.

Dumpy Trumpy
Made a big jump.
His gold plated ****
Made a sickening thump.
He waved his money,
He figured it’s enough
To sway the competition
No matter how tough.

Dumpy Trumpy
His Mussolini face
Deaf to the meaning
Of public disgrace;
He figures that even
If the GOP rejects him
He has lots of money
He’s sure will protect him.

Dumpy Trumpy
Plays to the stands
Of wingnuts and crazies
In disgruntled bands.
He’s sure if he curses
The current regime
He can be President.
At least that’s his scheme.

Easy Beach
I’m playing here today
Easy Beach.
It’s where I want to stay.
Where the sea and sand are brothers
And they play so well together
And let me play
With them all day,
Serenity is in reach
Here on Easy Beach.

Easy Beach
Has so much to say
Easy Beach
You’ve blown me away
With your softly murmured mumbling
Like the earth and my soul rumbling
Speaking to each other
Both of them together
Both sound and vision
Grant me permission
I almost hear it preach
Stay on Easy Beach.

Easy Beach
My troubles are behind me
Easy Beach
You treat me oh so kindly
So many gifts from the sea to me
Seashells and driftwood artfully
Gather here at my feet
Every single one a treat
If I choose to see it that way;
A shoreline of treasure
Truly without measure
Here on Easy Beach.

I like to rub her righteous
Rubber baby buggy bumpers
While her Sister Susie
Sells seashells by the sea shore.
Susie works in a shoeshine shop,
She sits, and she shines all day long.
She confesses with too many esses
It lispers up her whispered song.

Peter Piper picking peppers
Putting pickled peppers in a ***.
Woodchuck chucked wood,
Chuckling, chucked the wood he got.
Susie’s sister Betty Botter
Bought a pound of bitter butter.
Betty was a bit of a ******.
She said her butter was better bitter.

I thought of a thought, thinking
It was a very difficult thing to occur.
Thinking, busily thinking;
Blinking, and winking, thinking of her
We made a date at a quarter to eight
Said, “I’ll see you at the gate, don’t be late.”
Lucky and plucky, my ducky doo,
It was a heavy date, and a heavy gate.

Leary of a really weary *****
We wandered in our wandering leathers
Wondered if whether wetter
Weather were better to weather together.
We celebrate our late date
We didn’t skate, or deliberate our fate
Suffice is to further elucidate
And cheerily chewed the churros we ate.

ECHOES

Lord knows, I’ve
Walked a lot of roads
I’ve told a lot of lies
And didn’t end up wise
From telling stories
About nonexistent glories,
But I must admit
I learned a bit from it.
I shucked and I
Shuffled and I
Pretended a lot.
The suffering it brought
Was only sort of worth it
If you can compare it
To how ignorant I was
When I started out
Had no idea what I was about.

I had to hurt a lot of people
Saw my lovers weep while
I stumbled on to the next one
Telling myself I was having fun
But the pain had not begun
Not really, just a hint
Of how bent I had become
And how I came to mean
So very little to anyone
Or to myself it seemed.
I never dreamed
It could hurt
So much
To live without touch.

Now, with nothing to boast
What I miss the most
Is laughing together
At silly jokes
Sharing some tokes
With people glad to see me
Instead of hiding from me
And hoping I forget
Where they live
And living to regret
I had so little to give.
I wish that was a jest
But it’s really the best
I can say about myself
Back then
Back when
I was a fool.

Brent Kincaid
2/9/2015

You’ve done so much
That is in no way right.
It makes us all wonder
How do you sleep at night?
The party of Abe Lincoln?
Not really so very much.
With his kind of leadership
You completely lost touch.

With malice toward none
And with liberty for all
Doesn’t match well with
Your current plans at all.
Right now you look at us
Your regular constituents
As unworthy of your notice
Or any serious commitment.

You’ve aimed your entire effort
At making the rich richer
And very little nectar for us
Pours from your national pitcher.
You prefer we starve and suffer
So Congressmen can get wealthy,
And rich corporations as well
Which is almost twice as stealthy.

So what happened to the vows
You took as the Oath of Office?
Where did you promise to make
A vast king’s ransom off us?
When did it say “Now I promise
To ***** the meek and poor,”?
To me, that is not what we
Elected your crooked *** for.

Why can’t you do your job
Seeing to the common weal
And stop trying to treat us
As if we were something unreal;
Things that get in your way
On your rise to immortality?
Please read the Bible you tout
And learn about immorality.

For the past thirty years or so
I’ve heard Republican broad hints
That never quite come to pass.
They must think I am dense;
That I sit and watch my TV
And get all stoked to hear them
Promise they will set things right
But reality never comes near them.

They talk about our poverty gap
And how they will narrow it down
And how they will lower interest
And they will quit fooling around.
They go on about their opponents,
Even when they have good records,
And then the election comes and
The people fail to get it together.

So every eight years they vote,
These fools I must call my peers
And throw the good guy out.
Every freaking eight years.
An even once after just four
They told the good guy goodbye
Then put in a world class crook.
Can anyone really say why?

I’ve watched my fellow man
Go bonkers like this repeatedly
And vote in some twisted clown
That ******* us up completely.
Nixon looked like the creep he was;
A greasy, rude and stupid man.
Then Reagan was a liar and a looter
I never was that fool’s loyal fan.

In between we’d get someone
In the job who wanted things fixed.
He would work hard as he could
And pray things wouldn’t be nixed.
But the current bubble-headed villain
Said he’d take the country back;
All his predecessor was guilty of
Was of being unremittingly black.

So, what’s with these people here
Who can’t tell a good thing from bad?
Why can’t they recognize success
And good times we have had?
All indexes were up, things were fine
Things were not a bit bad that fall.
So why did the half bright-Americans
Choose a guy with no experience at all?

Surely they don’t think any guy
Who doesn’t give a **** about them
Would care about more than rich buddies.
Of course not! That would be just dim.
Yet they did it and proved that fools,
When they’re left to play with the adults,
Can ruin things when they’re going well.
Now we must live with the results.

For all my tales of braggery
I am the eloquent loser.
Out of thousands of choices
I will pick the ******,
The liar, the layabout or thief.
Then starts my florid tales
Designed to mask my grief.

I list the virtues of the guy,
The Prince Charming I caught
And talk about his attributes
None of which he has got.
I treat him like aristocracy
Even though he never works.
My friends wonder how I can
Align myself with such a ****.

So, that means more stories
To extoll his many talents
Even though he has so few
To brag about on balance.
I keep thinking my eloquence
Will overcome his character,
His many alluring facets
Or lack of which whatsoever.

It’s sad the lengths I have gone
Trying not to be so alone.
I have been accused of being
Like a dog with a favorite bone
In my attempts to justify
The awful choices I have taken.
But I don’t listen, I only talk
Any advice is all forsaken.

That’s how it goes with me
If I can explain things away,
Like Scarlett, I'll think about it
Maybe on some other day.
Maybe then I'll finally understand
Why I do what I always do.
But we eloquent losers don’t care
So very much what is true.

I’ve been losing sleep,
The pain runs too deep.
Wind whistles through the trees
And it blows right through me.
It’s like I am human sieve
Who has given all he can give.
I surrendered my physicality
And am battered by reality.

I’m over playing silly games
Of guessing people’s names
And hoping they really are
Who they claim they are.
Now I prefer to stay alone
Not waiting here for the phone
Or visitors at my front door.
I’m not into that any more.

Feeling I am invisible
Can become invincible
A force that slams the gate
On any successful fate
Making a hash of all tomorrows;
A progression of personal sorrows.
I need to do something different.
I need to stop being indifferent.

I’ll stop playing supporting roles
In matters that can heal my soul.
I will say yes to a future me
That can exist without tragedy,
Self-ridicule and poisonous doubt.
I’m not sure how, but I will find out
And make for myself a new way
To fill the empty space every day.