When I am asked “What’s on your mind?”
It’s sad to say but I usually find,
That, dig as deeply as I dare,
There just ain’t much there.

Numerous were the people that did turn away from the Truth
and worshipped Ignorance
Saying “Oh, lead us in the ways of true Ignorance,
for the truth we love not.”

Then they were sent forth to find the truth
and destroy it.
And their God did say unto them:
Where truth grows in abundance –
plant lies, so that there is confusion.

Where truth stands as a monument,
chip it away.
Where truth sounds forth like music,
Blare your falsehoods louder.

Where the truth shines brightly
obscure it with shadows.

Deny the obvious.
Eschew all reason, logic and evidence
that does not please you.
Above all else repeat the lies
and repeat the lies
and repeat the lies
and repeat the lies
ad infinitum
These are the ways of true Ignorance.

When the facts are fake news
and fake news are facts -
Examine the nation's
foundations for cracks.

And when great barrier walls
all around us have risen –
How long 'till we notice
that we've built our own prison?

Tomorrow should be getting closer.
But is it? I must answer no, sir.
Whatever speed we walk or run
We’re no closer than when we’d first begun.
Like the carrot dangled in front of the ***
(I apologize if this sounds crass -
I refer to the animal here of course
A second cousin to the horse)
We chase the carrot till our days are through,
And then we die. I am afraid it’s true -
Without getting the carrot, ain’t that a *****?
We might die poor or we might die rich,
But our tomorrow’s the same no matter what we do,
So I offer up this thought to you–
Let’s stop and share glass of Claret
And let other ***** chase the carrot.

Dinner with even the gnicest gnomes
Can be excruciating -
Their table manners are less than genteel -
In fact they’re gnauseating.

Some people say
that our destruction is waiting
in the dark matter of our lives–
the crap upon which we bestow the gift
of invisibility;
the crap we pretend doesn’t exist-
that we ignore until we can't.
But I don’t really see it.

My summer -
The one I knew so well as a child–
Was a universe of green, blue and white
Meant to be explored and explored and explored again–
While the cool breath of angels
kept the sweat from my brow
And worries from my mind.

Languid and sweet
It was my sanctuary, my world.
Time would stretch or contract as I chose.
The silver clear water of my creek or stream
Slipped and slid over my bare feet–
Like kittens or puppies
Carelessly tumbling over each other.
In the distance
Other children laughed and screamed happily together.
Sometimes I would sit back to listen–
Imagining myself as one of them.
.
On the other side of their beautiful cacophony,
nicotine stained walls were waiting
The walls of my mother’s latest apartment;
Where the light was thin
And shadows
Wrapped around quietly anxious secrets -
Then a breeze would touch my cheek -
To remind me where I was and where I was not,
The sky would grow purple and stars
Would begin revealing themselves.
My stars, in my sky, in my summer.