Daily Archives: February 27, 2017

He lends an ear A helping hand But then pillars of the community Are spirited away “This is what the people want!” There it is A town sunken by the sands of time “Maybe we were wrong” However that stamp of approval still glows brightly A pillar’s life is altered At least you admitted you were wrong How magnanimous The people have spoken Well now you can’t speak anymore

Here to Help

“I had nothing to do with Russia,” he said sensuously into the microphone Like a conspirator in a Dutch beer hall Flashes from the camera A smile, a wink Scandalous clouds overhead Never mind the rain It’s harmless compared to those them there vaccines “If you only knew the horror of fake news,” he said “It’ll turn you this way and that, you’ll never know what hit you” A palace of intrigue echoed his words Just give into the palatable sentiment What good is a memory An accurate recollection When the universe is putty to those ever flapping lips?

Fake News

They’ll be getting new sabers New masks to use on the front lines Bald eagle familiars Suggestions are welcome, they say Anything we’ve missed? Flags made of aluminum foil will blind the enemy To use the foil is to be right as rain Maybe the soldiers will be taught new marches too Dancing to titillate the splendid guests of Mar-a-Lago But you’ll be dancing in rags As they eat gold leaf Dance, puppet, dance Twirl your saber Do a push up or two The crowd is pleased So he is pleased So you are pleased

Proper Reverence

The tin can man had been duped Watches, pearls, cashmere scarves This was it This was the jackpot That would become a golden stepping stone He could ensure the security of his family forever But did he need them anymore? They were a convenient mythology during the act itself Now they were faded sources of vague irritation This salesman could be free Maybe he would toss them a scarf or two Even a watch Generosity could expand the heart across oceans No need for letters They would know he cared Maybe tin can man would receive a letter After all, […]

Post Robbery Bliss

The living room felt electrical and hazy. An old woman was standing in front of the sink, washing a chicken with comet and giving her horrible looks. The woman was pale, with the red cross symbol tattooed on her forehead. She couldn’t look away from the old woman, thinking that the chicken cleaner was a malicious force. It didn’t help that the sound of a tire being stripped clean was playing over and over again in the background like a broken record. This couldn’t be real. But the woman came closer, and she realized that the woman wasn’t malicious, but […]

Everything Changed, Part 4

What a way to go A drunken suicide via itchy rope Beezlebub didn’t listen So now the king of the courtroom Was trying to find the center Because getting closer meant his regions didn’t itch as much The center was getting warmer, then colder Elusive but perpetually tempting Arguing didn’t help It only made the itching worse And his head would start to swirl He finally had to settle for “less itchy” He decided to rest here, at the foot of a faceless statue Maybe a nap would help Center

Every Corner of the Earth had an Itch