Among mankind's best—
Brave, courageous
Heroes who do no harm
Assuaging our fear
With fellow feeling and care
Amidst viral strains' stealthy swarm

Among mankind's worst—
Mean, dastardly
Zeros who do know harm
Stoking pandemic fear
Scamming the unsuspecting ear
With a smiling swindler's charm

Heroes & Zeros
Best and worst of mankind—
What a dichotomy!
We'll keep hoping instead
For a bright future ahead
Daily coping with anxiety


© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.

You can call us all, including our dog, your hero men  
So when you need help quickly call 9/11  
Rescue we try and save you we hope, from Gods sun filled heaven    
but sometimes we lose out to the devil in this ash scattered hell    
Climbing the steps and spraying the fire, that nobody's skin should've felt    
Bringing you out, one by one, just hold on tight to my safety belt.
    
We are there to protect you, not to distress you    
Dressed in blue, pistol and taser at side, all in full view    
We arrest the speedsters, traffickers and all the gangsters    
Let the judges decide if the sentence should incur extra time for visitors    
Your lawyers, barristers and familiar jailbird friends    
Will testify, use false alibi to get you off and to make amends.
    
We're racing to the scene with the medicine in the back    
Inside bed, needles and portable CPR machine, just in case of a heart attack    
We will revive the dead, patch up a sore head and even help mother with newborn    
So let us through with ease and don't for a second put your hand on the horn    
For one day, it might be you or your family or even a long lost friend    
That is waiting for the moving medical miracle machine in the end.
    
We dress in disguise, mainly in tree green and dirt black    
On the back of tanks, falling from the sky and we won't take any flak    
We're here with orders from the guy at the top    
So don't get upset at us, when we come back with a hop    
We fight to protect the freedom of all mankind    
Just doing our job and hoping not to leave, anybody behind.

A skippity hop and muddy socks
Sail boats and rain coats
Semis and dump trucks
Bubble baths with ducks
Throwing a ball I love it all!!
***** feet and a sweet treat
Firefighters and quad riders
Lights and sirens and jolly lions
Puppy heroes and horses with wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Last day on the job meant ensuring lines were tight,
tanks filled, hoses pumped,
     boots heavy, dry

Days of volunteering had long gone, years ago
hours of training, gym time, study time,
little time to rest, scant time for family,
     or friends fishing

Last day on the job meant sleeping light
ready for alarm’s alarming alarm,
pushing through lack of sleep,
ever conscious of the task
     the task

Route to the alarm during last day on the job
allowed a precious moment spent wondering about
stretching a fifty-thousand dollar city pension
through twelve months with sufficient money left for
moderate vacations, finishing the basement (finally),
trading in the beater for a “new-to-them” pick-up.

Colleagues wept openly during the last day on the job.
The hardest moments were spent
with the crew Captain making the long walk up the driveway
to break the news to his wife about
     his last day on the job.



Last day in the city was spent with laces tight,
hockey bag full, fans pumped,
     stick taped, dry

Years of minor leagues were well past due
training program’s ritual, airline schedules,
****** steak dinners in greasy spoons
left little time for autographs, rookie card poses,
     or friends fishing

Last day in the city meant sleeping late
through three time zones, restless in anticipation of front desk’s
wake-up call.


On route to the game during last day in the city
included hushed coach and trainer meetings
with news about trades,
draft picks, adequate compensation
including a five-hundred-thousand dollar signing bonus,
full-cost moves, maybe a trophy wife

The hardest moments of that day
were spent withholding tears
during a dealership visit with his girlfriend
to cancel the BMW lease on
     the last day in the city.

We risk our lives everyday
every time that we clock in,
it's our way of life and what we do
  its the way it's always been.
  
We wake at 3 am to bells ringing
and sirens blare,
we leap to our feet and go get dressed
to fight deep in Hells lair.

In the darkness we don our gear
******* helmet and boot,
as one these brothers all get up
go sliding down the chute.

We run to the truck now wide awake
and with ease we slide in,
we put on our headsets to hear each other all other noise becomes a low din.

We race to the scene where smoke is showing
no one knows who got out,
we put on our airpacks and our masks
to talk we must now shout.

With axe in hand we enter therein
the Devils home amidst the flame,
we quickly search for everyone
boy, girl, man and dame.

The air is hot we can feel it through
the clothe armor that we wear,
but on we search through the building
till we realize we're low on air.

Another​ crew goes in
In their hands the hose
To find the seat of the flames
It's advancement to oppose

We cut the roof we pull the ceiling
Our hands and feet lose all feeling

We find a child we cover them up
We rush back to the door
We bring them to safety and go back in
To check and search for more

For hours the cycle repeats
Till all is said and done
The fire is out, we've done our job
This time we won

No fire is left and all are safe
We put our tools and hose away
And go back to the station
Where hopefully we'll get to stay

Our gears been scrubbed
Time to rest our exhausted bodies

We wake at 8 am to bells ringing
and sirens blare,
we leap to our feet and go get dressed
to fight deep in Hells lair...

I always feel the steel of my bones begin to bend.
The flame you left burning inside of me has not gone out.

And, oh, believe me, it is easy to suit back up.
It is simple to keep a straight face.
Even when I hear your voice resound in the red walls,
or when the thought of myself beneath you follows me into the dark.