We must have picked up the call at the same time
I heard my wife answer the phone.
The voice was a friend but the words that he said
were intended for her ears alone.

I stood in stunned silence and feeling betrayed
at the words  I heard over the phone.
There was worse yet ahead, those three words she said;
“I love you.” made me feel so alone.

Things hadn’t been good, this much I understood.
Passions can fade over time.
Daily life’s dull routine never matches the dream,
But I’d thought it no cause for alarm.

“I Love You. She said, but not for my ears.
I had not heard them for some time.
How could I miss the perfunctory kiss?
cold leftovers at dinner time.

I hung up the receiver, did they hear a click?
I wondered how long she'd have lied?
My only thought then was which one I’d **** first
And could it look like suicide.

“There will be no second Newtown here!”
Our principal decreed.
“Forget armed guards on campus,
Cans of soup are all we need.”
“When murderous villains roam our halls
And the shots are growing louder,
We’ll take them down with well-placed throws
of canned New England Chowder!”
“With a giant rubber slingshot,
we will make the villain pay.
Why, with adequate supplies of soup
We could hold out for days!”


This policy of “Soup to ****”
Is not like concealed carry.
It seems like an idea straight out
of Curly, Moe and Larry.

An old and tattered Bible Is the crux of a dispute.
Bernice King has possession of what her brothers see as loot.
The book was dear to Doctor King thru trials and tribulations
And with him on the Selma march in the days that changed the nation.
To her; a priceless heirloom of King’s Dream to equalize.
To her brothers it’s an asset that they hope to monetize.
This book, signed by the President, is not a ****** prize
to be bought by some collector and hid from others eyes.
So now there is a lawsuit and I hope the judge is wise
Wise as a modern Solomon in how he will decide.
This Bible  is a legacy, inspired word  and proof
Of what one man can accomplish when addicted to the Truth.

Karma finds you eventually,
Sometimes while drinking a fine Chablis.
George Zimmerman is back in the news,
with sour grapes that left a bruise.
His girlfriend wouldn’t kneel to play
so he bopped her with un Beaujolais!
His poor girlfriend, clad in a slip,
He christened like a navy ship.
Aggrieved assault is the charge he’ll face
since cops were called out to his place.
He can’t resort to “Stand your Ground”
His prints were on the bottle found.
Off to jail, George, where, they say,
You’ll meet your true love every day.

Registrations are way down at Clown Colleges today.
No one wants to scare small kids for the peanuts that they pay.
Older Bozos are alarmed that no one is enthused
to follow their profession and try to fill their shoes.
Sales of makeup are way down, ditto for funny clothes.
And vendors can’t remember when they sold their last red nose.
When the one ring circus comes to town clowns will be hard to spot
The clown cars that they used to drive are rusting on the lot.
The reason for the scarcity is obvious to me;
All those with clown potential serve in Washington D.C.

I was then but middle-aged, established in my world.
She was a young ingenue, a lithe and lovely girl.
she knew about the ring I wore, the promise it contained,
but we were both the worse for drink and passions were inflamed.
I should have left here at her door, my lusts I should have tamed.

Her perfume was enticing, unlike what my Lucy wore.
I stepped back to admire when her chemise hit the floor.
To hold a warm girl in my arms; to kiss those lips of flame.
I felt my youth restored to me when she whispered my name.

Her mystic rose was delicate; its subtle nectar sweet.
She raised her hips to meet my lips, the conquest was complete.
We both were lost in pleasure, her fingers urged me on.
We surrendered to our yearnings, all inhibitions gone.

Some say that Hell is a fiery pit with fierce unquenchable flames.
Others say its lined with ice and the cold drives you insane.
For me Hell was a woman scorned and a co-respondent named.
I was crucified in the press; such is the cost of fame.

I am older, wiser now. I never touch a drop.
See, if you never drink the first no one need tell you stop.
I have been a fool for Love but I will not pretend
that I don't miss her passionate kiss I'll never have again.

Living on a minor planet near a very average star,
There arose a type of primate, the most inquisitive by far.
Not the strongest or the fastest of the animals on earth,
but blessed with an intelligence that quickly proved its worth.
Long before they had the means to travel very far,
They raised their eyes in wonder at the glory of the stars.
thus embarking on a quest that has yet to reach its end.
as they parse the light of distant stars in their thirst to comprehend.