When it's all said and done
When it rolls around next
Think I'll make a run
For president

From the fiasco I've seen
From Trump and Hillary
They both made it look
Rather easy

I'll promise them this
While giving them that
And never admit
When I leave out the facts

I'll wear an American flag pin
So I'm not penned communist
While promising that
And giving them this

I'll scream at some
At the top of my lungs
And when asked of my past
I'll play it dumb

I will promise to free
Those in poverty
If they would just kindly
Give a donation to me

I will shake all the babies
And kiss a few hands
Wait...can I have a do over
On what I just said?

I will kiss all the babies
And shake a few hands
There...that's more like it
**** you auto correct!

I'll promise it all
Without skipping a beat
The straights will say Yay
While the gays dance in the street

I'll perfect the one liners
Like, it's the economy stupid
Then ship jobs to China
When no one is looking

When asked what I've done
I'll avoid the question
Until eyes start to glaze
And boredom sets in

I'll go to war
If one need be fought
Or take out a loan
If peace can be bought

So in another four years
When all this goes bad
The run for president
I'll throw in my hat

Cause if it can be done
By Hillary or Trump
Then it can be done
By most anyone

I like to play a game
With family and friends
And pretend that we've never met

Give it a try
It's easy as pie
You'll leave them all scratching their heads

They'll say I know you
As you exclaim that's not true
On that I am willing to bet

I do believe
This is the first you've seen me
A secret that hasn't been kept

They may lose their cool
As they scream I KNOW YOU
Till they're about out of breath

With a look on their face
As they try and relate
With the nonsense that's being said

It's loads of fun
To have them wondering
Just where their mind is at

I'm sure that you'll find
If you try it sometime
That you too will confuse family and friends

I'm thinking of the 70's
And how it'd really be a hoot
To bring that one thing back
That we all secretly would love to do

No I'm not talking discotheques
Or the donning of leisure suits
I'm talking about stripping down
To nothing but our tennis shoes

We could start out in the mall
Since that's were most of us hang out
Amid all the teenage screams
Between all the incredulous shouts

With security running here and there
In a tizzy there about
If they have the nerve to catch us
No way are they going to pat us down

We might even get our 15 minutes
As news camera closely chase us
Blurring out our naked bodies
Leaving only happy faces

Spending most the time in edit
As we bend to tie our laces
So grab your canes and grab your walkers
And we'll head off to the races

Of course that is a major problem
Barely spry no longer young
With the drooping of most everything
Being issue number one

And seeing most of you in your birthday suits
Doesn't sound like that much fun
And how in the world can we call it streaking
When it'll be more like hobbling

A bottle beneath her cab in a pick-up truck
or the fifth caught here behind the wheel
If pride wouldn't don a cat about this vision wholly refined again
and like a goat with a kid tied this climb atop the land
and she found with her chickens in this ford or a pig there
to book the dance with them all backstage
and now her life was still full of assuage even so she sings
the finer things in life here with that ***** in his belt.

Susan
with her china-white skin
relaxed
down to lace bra and *******—

“Have you ever heard this?” she asks

… sets the album, drops the needle
in the groove
We wait till bass fills in the room
sending time and silence empty-handed
down a hallway

Susan lights a joint
settles on the bed
ample legs begging apart
She ***** in deeply
impounding clouds  
Head thrown back
Thick glossy hair—
loses gravity
Eyes half-closed, shadow-heavy
clear and blue like piano
The walls are muted trumpet
stutter-hush of cymbal and the snare
Crackling over scratches

We are barely there

Susan exhales
a swirl of fog to a frail moon
Only her sultry voice still holds me tethered

“Have you ever heard anything— like this?”

Miles flows 
around me
Smoking
On the floor of Susan’s room
lying clothed and drunk
Soaked
with chords and wonder

I never hear him coming

Miles takes his time

There was an old man who took a shower,
Naked in rain atop the city's tallest tower
Whilst performing somersaults
Of all unbelievable sorts.
That imprudent man who fell from the tower


#Limerick**
©Kikodinho Alexandros
Jumeira, Dubai
24th November 2016

I just bought a turkey
In dire need of tenderize
Also a quick summer thaw
As this chick's as cold as ice

Must have froze it in the tundra as
I dive deep into the internet
Where it's got me wondering
Why I myself didn't think of this

It says to tie up both it's legs
With a nylon stringy thingy
Hey! Get that out your head!
This ain't nothing *****!

Hook the turkey to the bumper
And take it for a ride
I watched it from my rear view
And mirror on the side

I watched it twirl and tumble
I watched it twist and shout
I watched it as it changed its shape
From inside into out

I thought I heard it gobble
As it bounced itself along
Checking progress at every red light
Tenderized...yes, but not yet thawed

The roads must be colder this year
Than at first I thought
I hop back into my jalopy
For a few more jaunts around the block

I make it back to my place
Thinking all is perfect all is well
Untie the turkey, if that's what it is
It's a little hard to tell

Now with that part of the preparation done
With the turkey and I safe back home
I plop it into the waiting oven
And gently turn it on

Here we are a few hours later
As the conversations and good times begin
Sitting around the dinner table
My guests all marvel at my hen

There's only one slight question
And they asked me if I knew
I reply...why yes that is white meat
It's just a tad bit bruised

By: Cedric McClester

He’s my consolation
And he might be my end
You see me and John Barleycorn
Are the best of friends
I have to turn to someone
When my long day ends
And so me and John Barleycorn
Are the best of friends

Some people say be careful
Cos he packs quite a kick
And others say – watch out
Cos he can make you sick

But he’s always there
Time and time again
When I need a pick me up
I can count on him
Ya see he never fails me
I’m telling you my friend
I just have to raise my glass
And all my problems end

(Chorus)
Some people say be careful
Cos he packs quite a kick
And others say – watch out
Cos he can make you sick

I’m aware of the danger
That our friendship poses
But here’s the thing I feel
That nobody knows is
All the comfort I derive
From him being there
He has the ability
To take away despair

Some people say be careful
Cos he packs quite a kick
And others say – watch out
Cos he can make you sick

I know that they talk about us
They do it all the time
But us being the best of friends
Hardly is a crime
It’s a special relationship
That we happen to enjoy
And I’m just being candid
Instead of being coy

Some people say be careful
Cos he packs quite a kick
And others say – watch out
Cos he can make you sick

He’s my consolation
And he might be my end
You see me and John Barleycorn
Are the best of friends
I have to turn to someone
When my long day ends
And so me and John Barleycorn
Are the best of friends

Having just climbed
  through ages
up what seemed an endless flight
of narrow winding gothic spiral stairs
I step out
right into the wind's brute force
   instinctively
my arms grasp for a hold
fearful lest I blend suddenly
with the white horses
and the fields of the Camargue
far down below

Wedged safely
in a nook of stone
a hefty tourist
leans out wide between the walls
toward the setting sun

her summer skirt is blown waisthigh
revealing
unexpectedly delicate lace
above sturdy thighs

her body opens
to the strong soft touch
of the Mistral

A little later
she walks past me
clothes gathered
level gaze calm  
and self-assured

and leaves me wondering
whether the mighty abbot
on his solitary tower
and his exclusive brotherhood of men
had ever understood
the wind that blew
and still blows
through two feet of stone
  like they were silk
and thrills a woman
to her bone

* * *
                                                              ­                        © Walter W. Hoelbling