Here's a few legitimate refugees:
political, poverty, drought, war, and religious.
They're right in the top drawer zone,
But who gives a flying Whoopi
That Miley will claim assylum in Bali Bali;
Or Rosie will fly over camps on her way to Switzerland.
I hope Cher,
Doesn't apply for residence on Cape Breton Island:
We don't want you, Babe.
These are the celebrity refugees,
Bailing out on the touted
Greatest Democracy on the planet.
****, if you don't like what you elect,
Look to history,
Stove pipe hats,
And the wonders to be achieved
Before the end of this decade.
They got enough cash for space,
For Mars!

There's a patient
In my bed,
There's nothing wrong
Inside her head.
She sleeps restless,
She breathes deep,
There's reason for her
Antic raving,
I understand she's misbehaving.
There, she shakes,
And chills and beads,
Calling names
And personal needs.
I'm no doc, but I'll prescribe
A script to calm her passionate side.
Take two pills,
I'll take mine,
Call in the morn,
Call anytime.

I only make promises
To myself,
To ensure
I dissappoint
No one else.

Where do birds go at night?
When winter's silent furies
turn Hawthorns white,
cotton light on ground and grade.

Where do birds sleep till dawn
while pillowing clouds, twice height,
slumber across this evening sky.

Where do birds go to dream?
Swirling, feathered flurries,
to shiver off frostbite extreme.

Then upon a morning light
to round and wakeful nigh
with muffled wings burst into flight
tree branch waved goodbye.

-cec