Come back Barack ...
oh my how we miss
you so,

I know you weren't perfect
in that Commander in Chief
bombing innocent folks overseas
sort of way,

but Sweet Jesus at least
you are not Trump,

you had some natural dignity
as a decent man with his heart
in the right place for most of
the time & you tried, at least
you tried to make things better
for all folks,

& you could shed a tear for the
children & you could take a joke
& you could chuckle with the
best of them & you did have
good dance moves & your
hair wasn't some sort of
freeze-dried candy floss
sort of thing,

& you didn't re-tweet Fascists,
& didn't scapegoat, & lie, & work
every single angle possible to
put a few more dollars in your
bank account,

& you had a keen intelligence for
important things such as the health
of your citizens & the world they live
in & you wouldn't say Islamic terrorism
because you knew it was a dangerous
& short-sighted & in the end truly awful
way to play into the hands of the enemy,

& you kneeled down to talk to kids in
mini-pope mobiles, & you had an honesty
& a calm reasoned approach that even
if that was too much at times at least
you didn't jump into the fire and wade
in the dark morass of prejudice & ignorance,

& you didn't appoint all your family to
powerful positions so they too could work
that dollar angle & you didn't promise
idiocies to gullible desperate idiots &
you at least weren't a ****** predator
& a two-bit snake-oil salesman who
worked a three-card monte with a
'University' so as to fleece the believers,

& you weren't called Donald Trump &
you were at least a Democrat & son of
a gun look at us now!

Kristina Palten walked ...
yes, walked,
through the Islamic country of Iran
an ancient land & a journey
of 1144 miles on foot,

day one she cried with fear
& yet as day followed day
she was met by strangers
giving food, water & offers of
shelter for the night,

she shared breakfast,
lunch & dinner with
Islamic families from
an Islamic country,

& Kristina Palten
leaves me with a
genuine feeling
of warmth & sincere
respect,

Kristina Palten
I am in awe
& send my
very best greetings.

"I don't care ...
I don't care ..."

Well I would to be honest ...

I'd miss them those long-hairs
with their bongos, flowers &
hula hoops, long skirts, velvet
jackets, bells & sweet scented ****
& smiles & trying just to be happy
& leaving you all behind with your
exploitation & misery & wars & death
& sullen brown slow decay,

I would care,

"if all the hippies
cut of  
all their hair"

I would.

Hendrix lives ... by sweet Jesus yes he does!

The redwoods were so immensely
present and just plain there! ...
as we stood at the base
and looked up & into
the filtering bright
sunlight and
the high, high
branches,

that I wished I was
seventeen again & that
I could take some Acid
& just plain put my
arms around them
& oh so softly weep,

it would have been a beautiful
moment that I would cherish
forever & lord almighty would
I have felt so much better
about all & everything.

Tamla Motown,
my soccer team Tottenham
for so many sweet memories,
my old girlfriend Stella ... I know
I should have Stella,
I know,

tigers,
brown bears & the lowly centipede,
Charlie Chaplin, that old ****** son of a gun,
Laurel & Hardy, just because ...
Tarkovsky movies ... Toshiro Mifune,

anything with custard,
apple pie,
fresh bread,
Indian folks for the way they
shake their heads for yes,
Indian folks for their god
that charming Ganesh,
books,

Sci-fi movies ... lots of them anyway,
children laughing,
children playing,
& thus playgrounds,

serious folks who pay attention,
Anarchists ... of course,
my old grannie for her
attentions,
English food when it actually
works,

trees,
birds, bees,
old Chinese folks up at dawn
to collect cans,
& my Facebook friends,
take care you all now.

Are they human those folks out there
who gut legislation to protect us all &
each & every breathing life-form on this
fragile Earth of ours?

Are they?

Does their blood flow as you & I or is
it replaced at night by limping hunch-backed
servants as they rest stiffly at night in
lead coffins secure under oh so normal
looking suburban ranch houses?

Does it?

Do they eat as we do by which I mean
placing food in their mouths & biting
down or is some weird looking dry
space-man looking powder flown in
daily from the planet Zarcon to be
diluted with strange lethal brews &
sipped stealthily at midnight?

Do they?

Do they reproduce by means of some
hideously ***** placing of certain parts
in other certain parts while gathering in
naked groups at certain designated rural
retreats from which even the males leave
pregnant & ready to pop after only 7 days,

Do they?

Are they human these vile creatures more
akin to loathsome phantoms from a deep inky
black darkness that is a child's feverish
nightmare in that they move on two legs
but suddenly you realize as they close in
that Sweet Jesus what the **** have I
encountered late at night in this dark alley?

Are they?

And do they mutter in a low vibration too dense
for normal folks to catch a solemn hymn of praise
to some Dark Overlord or All-Powerful unforgiving
master of theirs who resides fathoms deep in
a sullen barren cave of ignorance & cynical
pitiless laughter?

Do they?

Republicans ... are they human?

Would you rather the majestic pure white polar bear had a home in this world or that Paul Ryan took a slow, slow boat
to China & then turned around & came back, & then again,
& again?

... the humble Praying Mantis was able to bask in the sunshine
on a leaf of its choosing or that Trump was locked away for
70 years in a dank & dismal people's cell?

... all the bees, & all the dainty flying creatures could buzz here & there as was their want or that Mitch 'Gruesome' McConnell was marooned forever on a distant deserted isle?

... the startling life-form that is coral could take its own sweet time covering rocks & outcrops & undersea crags or that Mike Pence quite suddenly & terminally lost his ability to function in any way whatsoever?

... the soon-to-be starved nomadic people, the soon-to-be flooded
coastal peoples & the soon-to-be parched farmers of India were to be given direct financial & physical assistance by expropriated & toiling Masters of Industry & sundry media lackeys?

... that the delicate flowers, the tall & mighty trees, the vital green, green grass could just a go on going on, & anyone, anyone at all who ticked that box declaring Climate Change a hoax be pitilessly overseen constructing vital networks of deep, deep canals, oh for the remainder of their natural life?

... Would you rather one less Republican politician or one less soaring & majestic wind-tumbling vulture?

... Would you rather ...