By all accounts he’s had a lifelong case of OCD.
“Donald was a disruptive tyke”- his teachers all agree.
He was not much of a scholar but, as a youth, excelled in sports.
As a builder and developer he was often seen in  Courts.

When it comes to matters of the heart, he sadly is no wiser
He loves them and he leaves them. He’s a noted womanizer.
Oh, he pays them for their trouble; that much I will allow.
Still he’s never had compunction over breaking wedding vows.

Now he is our President and making noise on Trade.
If he doesn’t get his way beware his twitterverse tirade.
He's paying  farmers Billions  to forgo their tillage.


Hillary was wrong- It takes a child to raze a village.

Will you meet me at the river,
where the waters lap the sand?
We can find a place to sit, since,
I'll be far too tired to stand.

You made it there before I did,
so many long years ago.
Along my way I lost the path,
without you here, the way to show.

I wandered, lost, once you were gone,
somewhere amidst hurt and denial.
Before I realized I was lost,
I'd been that way for quite a while.

I've tried to find that old, green path,
but signs of it are out of sight-
as if the daylight never shone,
and you carried the only light.

But I know where the river runs,
and I will get there, by and by-
if I must carve my own, new path,
I know I can, if I but try.

So find a little shady spot,
where we can sit and pass the time.
We'll catch up on the days we lost,
and laugh at life's unending rhyme.

Until the specters fade from sight,
we'll count no moment there a loss.
Then hold my hand, as I descend
to Judgment's waters, there to cross.

I am lost in the forest;
show me the path.
I’m exposed on the mountain;
take me from the storm’s wrath.
I’m on the side of the road--
don’t let bad guys stop.
I’m a prisoner at home,
waiting for you to get a cop.
The whirlwind surrounds me;
be my eye in the storm.
Take me out of the blizzard
to your home safe and warm.

Lucifer, save us; come up from Hell—
take a good look at the place that we dwell.
You were right all along
to refuse to bow down
to Adam and Eve
and their limitless throng.
And how could you have known that the apple you gave her
would plant seeds of pollution, destruction and terror?
You thought that we’d only use knowledge for good.
I know that you’d take it all back if you could.
Lucifer, we aren't angels like you.
We joined your rebellion, and soon we’ll be through.
Now the recourse from the wreckage that is,
is to bring on the foreshadowed Apocalypse.
So come on, Luci, don’t hesitate:
The Four Horsemen are pacing; why delay Fate.
After the End, there will be a new start,
perhaps without humans; we’ll bow and depart.

After the burial service
and after the meal for the guests.,
The old man returned home.
He felt badly in need of a rest.

He entered into the room they had shared
for all their years before.
It was faintly redolent of her favorite perfume,
but his Love wasn't here anymore.

Alone in their room,  the old man shed some tears;
He had shown a brave face to the World.
Now, all alone, he permitted his grief
to pour out for the loss of his girl.

He fell down on his knees by the side of their bed
but all efforts at prayer were undone
when he saw  on the wall a photo of her,
back in the days they were young.

That night he slept in the room down the hall.
The room they has saved for a guest.
There were too many memories in their marriage bed
for the old man to get any rest.

In his sleep he had dreams  of an ancient Greek myth
when the gods gave an old couple grace:
To spare death and mourning they were turned into trees.
There together both firmly rooted in place.


His son came the next day to see how he was
For his dad hadn't answered his calls.
He found Death had answered Dad's prayers
There in that room down the hall.

Love is a gift and Life is a challenge
Charon gives rides shore to shore.
The old man was blessed to have passed in his sleep
and was joined with his love evermore.

Contagious Infospores infect
the wild, wild internet west.
Apparently the worst is the best
that some can do.
The goal, to make truth suspect--
to interject
theories of conspiracies.
Connect, connect, don’t inspect
too closely.

It’s mostly
slander to create fear,
garbled and unclear
to avoid lawsuits
(which doesn’t seem to be working).
Fat toad preys on weak minds
who can’t be bothered to analyze
information and facts.
They prefer hysterical attacks.
It's easier to fear and hate
than digest cause and effect, and accept ineluctable fate--
than to consider responsibility,
mistakes and liability.
It’s simpler when it’s all a plot
by the powerful to persecute you
(as if they have nothing better to do).
And to remember that people whom  you fear and hate
are people not unlike you.
26 dead people didn’t disappear.
They are in the ground, and in the hearts and minds
of those who are living, here.