I want to sit and eat ice cream
Until I can’t eat any more.
I want wake up late each day
Until I can’t sleep any more.
I want to take people out to eat
At the most expensive places
And watch the joy spread out
All over each of their faces.

I don’t want to seem greedy
So don’t go off in a huff.
I don’t want an excess of things.
Really, I want just enough.
Just enough to buy presents
For the people I really like.
The rest of the salesmen
Can take a royal hike.

I want to go swimming in
A peaceful hidden lake.
I want to ride the bumper cars
And never hit the brake.
I’ll gladly clean up backstage
At a hit Broadway show.
I want to drive a fast car
As quickly as it will go.

I want to be in a big movie;
Have some speaking lines.
Be invited to the Academy awards;
The name on the card mine.
I want to perform at Carnegie Hall
So they hear me in the back row,
When I sing songs that I wrote
And receive a standing ‘O’.

I want some of my own poetry
To be printed in the NY Times
With plaudits and huzzahs
And a 12 point printed byline.
I want to have to sign autographs
When I got out to eat somewhere.
And, have lots of money in the bank.
And still have plenty to share.

As long as I am wishing here
I may as well tell the truth.
After all it would do no good
To wish for good looks and youth.
It’s not all that much different than
Making a list for Santa Claus.
So saying exactly what I want
Won’t give me a moment’s pause.

But if I get my fondest wishes
Everything I’d like the most
I want something huge and fun
And I am not trying to boast.
I wish everybody could get
At least a few of their list.
So, write your own list out today
And make sure nothing is missed.

I tell you, he was elsewhere
While you were somewhere
And I was nowhere at all.
He didn’t stop to call you;
Your hysteria was all you,
And I wasn’t involved at all.

I was standing next to you
When he didn’t text you.
And you sorta lost your mind.
I didn’t neener neener you,
Though I really wanted to;
That would not have been kind.

Knock, knock,
Hello, hello!
Is there anybody in there?
Do you hear or do you care?
Knock, knock,
Hello, hello!
Get on and ride along with us.
Quit making such a silly fuss.

You have missed a cog or two
On your bicycle built for two
That he didn’t want to ride.
I hinted and I joked about it
We even smoked about it
But you couldn’t let it all slide.

So, now you are just tragic
The victim of black magic
And your sadness is legendary.
But, I’m here to remind you
He didn’t even know you.
The entire thing was imaginary.

Knock, knock,
Hello, hello!
Is there anybody in there?
Do you hear or do you care?
Knock, knock,
Hello, hello!
Get on and ride along with us.
Quit making such a silly fuss.

I know you tried to tell me
That he didn’t really love me;
That it was all a figment
Of my mind.
You said you had to tell me
You were only being friendly
That you were really only
Being kind.

I can do without the drama
Go gossip with your Mama.
Maybe she will like to hear
What you invent.
I guess you’re really jealous of
The love we have between us.
It’s the logical to think that’s what
You meant.

Since you don’t really know us
Just because you’re feeling jealous
You didn’t think we’d feel this way
For reals.
But we know what we are doing
And ignore your double-dealing
And we even feel sorry for how
You feel.

We both wish you will have someday
The love like we have found together
And get over wishing others
Will be sad.
Love is something beautiful
And not something to cry about.
And we know when you find it
You’ll be glad.

Neither of us can recall
What made us drift apart
But time and distance didn’t take
Michael from my heart.
I still remember flashing eyes
And highlights in his hair,
And how he told his stories
Of what he saw out there
Among the passing people
Who if they only knew
Were missing all your glory
All the joy that was you.

You were younger, so sublime
In eagerness to learn.
And I was understanding
Of the candles one must burn
On the way to manhood
Seeing how the world is run.
Watching you discovering
Was a blissful kind of fun.
And laughing when you saw
That people can be dense.
Living lives of self denial
Just did not make much sense.

So we laughed and cuddled
Both exploring white hot ***.
We carried on like wantons
Bewitched by a pleasant hex.
We wandered too, in happiness
Like all the world was all brand new.
And now that I look back on it
I think it was for you.
Even then, I felt the weight,
The honor of it all,
To be the one to be there
When your heart felt the call.

Now the years are gone away
And now we meet again.
Now neither of us is a youth;
We are middle-aged men
But both of us remember it
A time of joy and love
At a time we both agree
Was like a gift to us from above.
And we both treasure the moment
A kind of dream came true.
A carousel we made ourselves
Just big enough for two.

I got up late and left the house at eight.
To some that might be early but it’s not.
The cloudless day surely would be great
I wanted to see a friend who I found hot.
Right before the bus stop I heard someone
Calling out my name, a voice I knew.
Asking if I wanted to have some great fun;
He could be counted on to follow through.

We went around the corner to a buddy
One I was sure I had never met before.
His front yard was wet and very muddy
With marijuana plants there by the score.
We went inside and after a few doobies
I asked him if the cops left him alone;
After all those plants are not jujubies.
He didn’t answer me, but dialed the phone.

A little while later I heard someone knocking
Our host went over, let the new guest in.
I guess my face betrayed something shocking,
Because I heard the laughter of my friends.
Standing in the door was a policeman
Full regalia, face as stern as a warrior.
I got up, almost straight enough to stand
When our host said don’t call your lawyer.

Relax, he said, the cop is my kid brother
And he does not believe in this law;
He thinks the rules against *** and hemp
Are dumber than a script from Hee Haw.
We sat there with him and passed the joint.
He told us not to worry about his sergeant.
He smokes too, so that’s a good point.
*** heads with a policeman friend is pleasant.

I never made it over to my friend’s place,
The one I started out today to see.
He didn’t expect me, so it is no disgrace.
How the day turned out was okay with me.
One of the nice things about cannabis use
Is the happy acceptance of one’s fate.
Not caring where you’re going is a good excuse
To stay longer and not care if you are late.

CONGRESSIONAL EDICT

Go home soldier;
No whining allowed.
Shut up soldier;
It’s enough to be proud.
Be proud you fought
To defend our systems.
Just stop *******
About things wrong with them.

Go away, soldier;
So what if you lost a leg?
Man up, soldier;
It is not polite to beg.
You did your bit fine
It serves no purpose to lag.
Shut up now, for good;
Your words seem to be a brag.

Bug off, soldier;
Yours is an old sad song.
Who cares soldier?
We’re important, so go along.
We have work to do now
And laws to undo and make.
We have no time for cripples,
How much whining can we take?

Buck up, soldier;
The churches will feed you.
Not us, soldier;
We no longer need you.
You fought for your country
In the wars of yesterday.
That is an old, sad story.
So, just go away.

They tried so hard to banish me
To eternal non-entity;
They resented my voice
They denied me a choice;
I had to be the type of soul
Adhering to their own goals.
The don’t care what we suffer
They speechify and don’t stutter.

They haven’t been secretive
About the way they’d have me live.
They bellow and bawl their mind
And little of it is anything kind.
They have no obvious compunction
Behind their every injunction.
They point and label me something odd,
Invoke a two thousand year-old god.

They drape themselves in our flag
And shout names like queer and ***
And tell us we are abominations
Not fit to live in Christian nations
But they forget that we all free
To choose what our religion will be.
In truth, they do not seem to care
About anyone’s opinion but theirs.

The hardest thing of all to bear
Is for all the venom they share
Is that this country has rules
That they ignore by being fools.
They want the right to tell us all
Who we can bring with us to the ball
And who we can love or marry.
What a heinous load for us to carry.

There may be nothing quite as egregious
As a congressman all sanctimonious
Who tells us we must not disparage
The sanctity of heterosexual marriage
Whether is his bride number three or four
That’s exactly what the Christianity is for
Because didn’t Jesus himself say
He didn’t want no homos today?

Conservative these days now means
The richest are the few who glean
The wealth that exists in our land.
The rest of it is sleight of hand.
After decades of this foolishness
We have grown weary of your mess.
We don’t think we can ever win
This country back to from you again.

You seem to hate those who are non-rich
And include them in every austerity pitch.
You refuse to help them feed their brood
Then pay the farmers not to grow food.
You cover yourself with glowing self-praise;
People starve, you grant yourself a raise.
You stand before the rich and genuflect
And subject your constituents to neglect.

You want every child to be born
Then vote to have their allotment shorn.
You seem to want them not to thrive;
You only protect them until they are alive.
You send the soldiers to march and die
And deny them benefits. Tell us why.
Is it because you have your wealth
And no longer care about their health?

The most hateful game you always play
Is making the voters look another way.
While you make laws that take their rights
You engage them in unimportant fights
About who is sleeping with whom today
And who is straight and who else is gay.
Or you worry the people about war
While you funnel subsidies by the score.

You pay your friends and give them jobs
Then call your opponents egregious slobs.
You engage in double-talk about the facts
And claim calumnies are helpful acts.
You accept your fortunes from commerce
And agree to treat the populace worse.
No matter how often you rearrange things
You edits end up being very strange things.

We need to hear our own clarion call
And push this kind of politics to the wall.
We must do more than hope for liberty
And once again fight for the land of the free.
We can’t just sit around at home and mope.
As it is, today, we can only sadly hope
That some liberty you will choose to take
Will cause the regular people to awake.

The two hundred pound waitress
Was smoking and patting
At her nearly two-foot-high hair.
The cook was scrubbing
The scunge off the griddle
Old Zeke was drunk in a chair.
A lonely song was playing
For the twenty third time.
The jukebox was just that old.
Young Biff was mopping
In the light of a weak bulb
He knew the water had gone cold.
Still he scrubbed at the colorless
Old linoleum floor, sulking
One more job to get through.
When the door to the café
Quite suddenly opened
And paper and napkins flew.

It was Biff's friend from school,
Most folk thought him a fool,
Jokey Jerry, his Dad and a girl.
His whole mind was taken
By the sight of the vision.
The most beautiful girl in the world.
When they sat at the counter,
Biff washed his hands
And hurried the waitress away.
He put a menu between them,
Between Jerry and the girl,
Asked what she would have today.

She laughed into her hand
And fluttered her lashes.
They were just for a moment alone.
Then his friend asked Biff
"Gimme change all in quarters
And where is the john and the phone?"
So, now with the mood broken
All too abruptly
He took all their orders and blushed.
He offered her some pie
That was made by his mother
Told her she must taste the crust.
The cook began to fry
The food they had ordered
As Biff gazed into her brown eyes.
His friend, the girl's brother
Sneaking behind them
Set fire to Biff's apron ties.
When the smoke rose enough
That somebody noticed
The girl let out a small sound.
Biff began to flail
At his smoldering backside
And wailed as he ran all around.

Quickly circling the room,
He stepped into his bucket,
Which went along with him as he ran.
Then bounced off the leg of
A customer's chair and they fell,
Hamburger, the chair and the man.
The patty flew out
And landed on the waitress
Who screamed and jumped to her feet.
And elbowed the cook
Who was cleaning her glasses
Which then fell into the hot grease.
She shrieked as she reached
For the tongs to retrieve them
And woke up the drunk by the door.
Zeke began to sing,
"Alouette", out of tune.
And "Hallelujah, praise the Lord!"

Oh his journey around the café
Raising all kinds of havoc
Biff found himself by the windows.
Somehow set fire to Hazel's
New book-ordered curtains.
Jerry's Dad yelled, "Thar she blows!"
Thinking rather quickly
Since he was nearest the danger,
Dad threw his iced-tea at the flames.
And most of the canary yellow
Took-two-weeks-to-get-them
Café curtains with the drawbacks were saved.

Biff was still standing,
The bucket on his foot,
So he bent to pull it away.
Around the corner came Lem,
A very large fellow
Who didn't see Biff in his way.
He sent Biff careening
Through the checkered-cloth tables
To end in the corner, in the dirt.
The shreds of his dignity
Were scattered around him
As tattered as his ruined pants and shirt.
But the beautiful ladylike,
Lovely sister of Jerry
Dared anyone else to make fun.
She took Biff's hand
And smiling, she told him.
"Darlin', this is how legends are begun."

Some people see personality
I just see criminality
What some call statesmanship
To me is not so hip.
There must be a different definition
In your version of the Constitution
But mine says we all are free
And not just those D.C.
And not just those Caucasians
Should be entitled to rations
Of respect and equality.
But we’re victims of duality
Without causality
Because our voice is nixed
Nothing gets fixed.
Nobody cares about the crooks
Until something of theirs gets took
Then they want to throw the book
Without a second look
At who it hits. It’s totally tragic
That so many believe in magic
Like somebody waves a wand
And all the thugs will be gone
From our leadership.
It’s a ****** trip
And a total rip
That they think someone cares.
But, nothing makes rich people scared
Unless someone else takes
One third of everything they make
Then they scream like banshees.
Meanwhile, down on our knees
We cry right across the board
But we are the blighted horde;
We never really scored.
We were just here to buy junk
And not listen to the bunk
The one-percent hurls our faces;
We live with the disgraces
And wish we could do something.
Wish we could do anything
To break this eternal ring
Of money meaning purity.
Yes, it is a homily
But it is practically
All there is.
Talk to the Wiz.
He’ll tell you it is crap.
It’s just a trap.

It’s about my husband Alex,
He’s a truly wonderful man
But I fear Alex has gone
For a trip to Wonderland.
He works hard, and long
But lost some of his grip
On reality as it really is
And seems to be on a trip.

Ice trays that fill themselves,
Self-closing cupboard doors,
And magic laundry chutes
That puts clothes back in drawers
Ketchup bottles with 1/10th ounce
And leftovers never consumed.
And of course automobiles
Driven but never get tuned.

In Alex’s fantasyland
He lives across a chasm
Where only he gets hungry
Or gets to have an ******.
He doesn’t answer doorbells
Or incoming calls on the phone.
And, when he’s watching games
He is demands to be left alone.

Presents given out by him
In his fairy tale existence
Are often gift certificates
After a round of insistence.
And, don’t ask my husband
For the date of our anniversary
Or the dates our children
Showed up in the nursery.

I am only mentioning all this
Because I totally understand.
I have read quite a few books.
I have been to Disneyland.
But what I don’t understand
And can’t get into my head
Is why he hasn’t heard me yet,
Or a ****** word I have said.

It isn’t like I haven’t complained
Or told him what I wanted.
But he looks around like maybe
He thinks the house is haunted,
Because he is hearing voices
That he can’t quite understand.
See? What did I tell you?
Alex lives in Wonderland!

Auntie Ellen was already crazy
The day her brother moved her in.
She was not my relation but
Everyone addressed her like kin.
She was Auntie to everyone
And she got rather hollersome
If you didn’t call her that way;
She’d shout until kingdom come.

Rumor had it she met a fellow
When she did factory work.
He led her on and dumped her.
He was that kind of a ****.
Something snapped inside her
And she was never the same.
About that time, she started in
Telling people her choice of name.

She lived down the block, alone
And you could hear the music playing.
She’d wave when I passed her home;
I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
One time I started to walk closer
So I could hear the words she said
But she got very angry all at once
And chucked a dirt clod at my head.

We all felt sorry for Auntie Ellen
And didn’t think she was a threat.
The occasional dirt clod was not
Something any of us would sweat.
Her brother came around at times
To see how Auntie Ellen was faring.
I don’t think anyone ever understood
Her words to know if she was swearing.

She was sort of our neighborhood’s
Crazy person we kept in the attic.
She looked strange and sounded worse
And her behavior was quite erratic.
But she never harmed anyone here
And her dirt chucking always missed.
So, we just remembered her as
Auntie Ellen who was usually ******.

Micah The Mouse was a rat;
At least that’s how he behaved.
If he didn’t get his way every time
He’d holler and he’d rant and rave.
He got to be such a big mouse
That his head swelled up too.
He became so hugely obnoxious
Other mice didn’t know what to do.

They held a spontaneous election.
They needed to elect a top mouse.
Micah bribed the weaker leaders
So, Micah got the run of the house.
He kept up his pattern of bribery
And threatening those in his way.
Without anything like scruples
He’s still on the throne to this day

Micah The Mouse takes with both hands
And it’s too bad if anyone disagrees.
Those who think he cares about complaints
Will spend a lot of time on their knees.

In Micah got horrendously fat
By overeating just a tiny smidge.
He got to be so much like a big rat
He grew too heavy to cross the bridge.
So he roared and ranted and raved.
And blamed everybody around him.
That he was the cause of his problems
Seemed to completely astound him.

The wonder in all of this sad story
Is why the other mice could not see
That Micah was only in it for himself
And not for members of the citizenry.
Micah got to eat while others starved.
He got what he wanted, moved on
Yet somehow those that elected him
Never quite seemed to catch on.

Micah The Mouse takes with both hands
And it’s too bad if anyone disagrees.
Those who think he cares about complaints
Will spend a lot of time on their knees.

(Image from www.sharktacos.com)

It all started with a big mistake;
I’m here to tell it was all a big fake.
Fred hit Kelly in his great big mouth;
He said he caught Kelly at his girl’s house.
Rosie was jealous of Fred’s main squeeze;
Said she always does what she pleases.
So, she cooked up the story about her.
And Kelly never knew a thing either.
But that didn’t stop the fur from flying.
I tell you the truth, if I’m lying I’m dying.
The mood changed in the old hangout.
Everyone stuck around, nobody cut out.

Everyone was gathered for birthday cheer.
You know, some pool and some beer.
Nobody knew about Rosie’s big lie
Or what kind of crap would soon fly.
They just laughed and cracked jokes;
Enjoyed some legal and illegal smokes.
And when the mood was sufficiently jolly
Rosie quietly took Kelly out into the ally.
Said she saw Kelly go into the house
Fred started fuming, calling Kelly a louse.
He went back in and he smacked old Kelly
And followed it up with a shot to the belly.

While Kelly was reacting, Fred purely raged.
He wasn’t quite done, was not even assuaged.
But Kelly’s girl Lydia heard what Fred said
And smacked Rosie up side of her head.
She started screaming that Rosie was a liar,
And then there were two more irons in the fire.
It was two women and two men slugging.
The Fist City Express started chugging.
Mirrors were broken by costly pool sticks
The bartender finally got tired of the tricks
And got out his baseball bat and stepped in.
Rosie ******* up and hit him on the chin.

By now, a customer called nine one one,
And the end of the brouhaha had begun.
All four of the combatants were busted.
And the cops finally decided they trusted
The regular customers who all insisted
That the bartender not be arrested.
It might be good to say it was a big shame
But fights in bars are the name of the game.
Especially when women fight, it’s a show
And bystanders in bars always let them go
And then cheer and some even take bets.
This is how selling alcohol to fools often gets.

I used to look like a famous person,
And I swear I really still do.
I started out looking like Dagwood
And now I resemble Mister Magoo.
On a fairly regular basis
I had to shave my face
And gripe about it as I did; now
There are hairs all over the place.

Oh, I remember times quite well
I used to bend to pick up a coin.
Then quickly stand right up again.
Now it causes pain in my groin.

I’d stand before the mirror, I’d
Spend much time combing my hair.
It had to look lush and thick
Now it’s gone, so I no longer care.
Because my forehead has grown
Much longer than my tresses.
I no longer have to worry
About any tangled messes.

I used to be able to eat
Anything put before me
But now I have to watch
What I munch on carefully.
Some things bind me,
And stop all activity,
And some things make me
Take ***** trips frequently.

I’d ***** about this aging stuff
But I have learned not to whine
Because I am still around.
So, longevity is mine.
Some people ridicule me
Because I walk slowly
I tell them I hope they can walk
When they are as old as me.

Regarding entitlement
What is really true?
Look at the contract;
What are you entitled to?
Who told you what,
When and where,
And why should anyone
Besides yourself care?

What are the terms of
This entitlement scheme?
Are they exactly as
Precise as they seem?
What was promised
That you feel cheated?
Is there an inheritance
That has not been treated?

Are you an heir or else
A member of royalty
And thus deserve to
Have absolute loyalty?
Are there lands and deeds
You feel are owed you
Or is it just that you feel
Everyone is below you?

It would help you and us
If you could narrow this down.
Do you feel you own everything
And everyone in around?
Do you feel we should bend
And bow as you pass
And that maybe we should
Kiss your noble ***?

Do you know people
That hate people
For what they are?
Don’t invite those people
Into your car.

Do you know people
That hang with people
That steal from the poor?
Do not vote for such a boor.

Do you know people
That insist other people
Have to worship like them.
Their minds are dim.

Do you have friends
That like to steal?
Show them all
The back of your heels.
Because one thing
Will prove to be true;
They will steal from you.

Do you know folks
Who gossip madly?
Ignore them or
Treat them badly.
Then maybe some day
They will just go away.

Do you know some
Who ignore their kids;
Neglect them every day?
Tell those people off
Somehow, some way.
And if that doesn’t work,
Call the cops on the ****.

Do you know some politicians
Behave like ****** patricians?
Don’t suffer and protect them.
Don’t elect them.
Ostracize them as rotten louts
Then, quickly vote them out!

Do you think you can’t
Make a change that counts?
Find these fools and pounce.
Let them know your mind.
Don’t just sit there blind.
Get mad as hell.
Then rebel!

I remember when we used to sing
And talk long walks in early spring.
We made up songs to fit the time
And sometimes setting life to rhyme.
We made each other Christmas gifts
And felt our common spirits lift.

I remember staying up all night
Drinking B&B; in the early light
Walking together up distant hills
Taking our minds off paying bills.
We went to town for adventure.
We held hands despite censure
When people frowned we kissed.
The times I would not have missed.

I remember some pillow fights;
Friends came to spend the night.
And baking pans and pans of bread
Or whatever we took into our heads.
We all got high and painted faces
And cut our tee shirts into laces.
Yes, those were younger silly times
Somehow they were just sublime.

I remember making love a lot
And still finding each other hot;
Thinking though times were rough
What we had was good enough.
Even though those days are gone
We learned a lot from moving on.
We learned we could love and be
Owners of beautiful memories.

We met standing in line at a store
To pay for our groceries and such.
I happened we both reached
At the same time and touched.
We set to talking about things
Like Jung and synchronicity.
We easily continued our talking
About quirks and idiosyncrasies.

He asked questions about me
And seemed suitably charmed.
I answered them thoughtlessly.
I was precisely that disarmed.
He never took his eyes off me
Staring into my eyes, polite.
It felt not only delightful and warm,
It felt perfectly, comfortably right.

I found myself catching my breath;
Was he possibly flirting with me?
I knew just how this usually went
And how disappointing it could be.
I cautioned myself not to jump;
Conclusions can be dangerously high.
What if he is just a nice fellow;
A polite and wildly handsome guy.

So, I continued in the same vein.
I asked questions of his life.
I wanted him to get it over with
And tell me all about his wife.
But he responded with wonderful stuff
About his hobby rappelling rocks.
Then he did something unexpected
That shocked me down to my socks.

He reached over, put his hand on mine
And asked me if I were promised;
Did I have some other guy in my life.
Suddenly, no longer Doubting Thomas
I told him I was single and free as a bird
He squeezed my hand and smiled
He turned my hand over and asked me
If we could go for a ride for a while.

I will cease this tiny story right here
Because the rest of the tale was hot
And while I had the fun of those days
You either had your own or not.
But let it suffice to say to you here
He make this guy deliriously glad
For the love, the heat and the memories
Like I had never before had.

It rained all day that Tuesday
When Link McCoo hit town.
He checked into a rooming house
And began to look around.
He found the most run-down dive
And pulled himself a chair.
He took one look around to see
Who else was drinking there.

Nobody much noticed him
Except for Esther Masterson,
And she walked right over to him.
She knew she’d found herself a good one.
She asked him to buy her a drink
And he shook his head slowly no.
He said he wasn’t in the renting mood
So she might just as well go.

Esther like the way he looked
That he wasn’t to be a pushover.
She moved her chair next to him
And slyly told him, “Move over.”
She said, “I’m not a working girl
I own this stink-hole of a place.
So, being seen with the likes of me
Is not some kind of a disgrace.

That started them as something hot
Flame hot enough to set fire.
Nobody looking at the two of them
Could miss the heat of that desire.
Then, about a month later on,
Johnny Wacklin came back to stay
He and Esther were once a thing
And he was here to have his way.

But Esther had moved on by then
And told Johnny right up front.
Johnny paid no attention, said
“It don’t matter what you want.”
He grabbed her hand and dragged
Nearly taking her off her feet.
Link came in right about then
Knocked Johnny into his seat.

Link tucked Esther behind himself
And he warned Johnny not to try
Or he would be leaving there
With no time to say goodbye.
Johnny was always long on mean
But pretty much short on bright.
He figured he could whip Link
In a short but brutal fight.

So, they squared off and circled
And scowled for a few feet.
Link punched Johnny in the throat
And knocked him back into his seat.
Choking Johnny still attacked
So link kicked him in the knee.
He said “I don’t play slap and cry.
I don’t fool with those who attack me.”

Link and Esther have stayed there
As two knitted into just the one.
The bar has cleaned up clientele
And is a place for having fun.
Johnny Wacklin went away and
Spent some time in a clinic.
I can say he deserved what he got
Without being branded a cynic.

Sing a song of slick men
Pocket full of lies.
Four and twenty fat cats
Terribly unwise.
When the truth was spoken
They don’t even try.
They’re immune to reason
And they get all the pie.

Sing a song of no sense
And how they persevere
How they get elected
Year after year
Still they have no scruples;
Ethically impure,
They still win out in the polls.
Why is still unclear.

We should build a big fence
And lock them all inside.
Then impound their fortunes
Wherever they hide.
Let them see for sure how
Crooks we can’t abide.
See if they can stand each other
Living side by side.

Sing a song of statesmanship
Nearly gone extinct
Senators and gangsters
Not so distinct.
The rich still had their millions
We lost the kitchen sink.
Brought us all to near defeat
And pushed us near the brink.

Come here, my baby
And sit here by me
And I will tell you a bit
Of your past history
From well before you
We even a fond desire;
Before I met your father
And our love caught fire.

Loo, loo baby.
You’re the best it could be
You are the greatest thing
That ever happened to me.
Shoo, shoo baby
I would sing when you cried.
Shoo, shoo baby
It’s your very own lullaby

I was happy enough then
But something was missing;
Something not involved
I merely just our kissing.
And he felt the same, too
Because we talked about it
And left room for neither
Of us to really doubt it.

Loo, loo baby.
You’re the best it could be
You are the greatest thing
That ever happened to me.
Shoo, shoo baby
I would sing when you cried.
Shoo, shoo baby
It’s your very own lullaby

Our eyes were on each other
But our hearts saw further.
There was something we felt
Off into our common future.
Today we feel sure that
What we were feeling was true.
Somehow we could see it;
What was missing was you.

So, we gathered our family
And all our loving friends
And that was the very day
Your wonderful story begins.
We knew when you arrived
That we had been correct
We had no more dots
We needed to connect.

Loo, loo baby.
You’re the best it could be
You are the greatest thing
That ever happened to me.
Shoo, shoo baby
I would sing when you cried.
Shoo, shoo baby
It’s your very own lullaby

Nobody should believe you
You’re a world class liar.
You’re going to burn your ****
‘Cause your pants are on fire!
You’ve always been a liar
Even back in your youth.
The only thing you fear is
Having to tell the truth.

If you shake hands with him
Count your fingers right quick
Be sure you still have them all.
Never trust his sneaky tricks.
He can stand right in front of you
And baldfacedly he can lie
While smiling like and angel
And looking you in the eye.

Olly, olly, oxen hook
This guy is a nasty crook.
Keep track of all he took
Then sentence him, by the book.
Heckley, Jekylly, criminal
He prefers to be subliminal.
But mostly he’s a bad motor scooter
A cutpurse and a poorhouse looter.

He would rob widows and orphans
And claim he was aiding charity
As if he is the only person who
Sees the world with clarity.
He calls it redistribution work
Of the world’s hard-earned wealth.
But he is fooling nobody, really,
Or he wouldn’t need to use stealth.

And when he runs for office, he
Can refine his art of playing *****
By hiding behind closed doors
And stealing from us covertly.
He will join the political machine
That is already firmly in place
And work in his mirror every day
To hone that public smiling face.

Olly, olly, oxen hook
This guy is a nasty crook.
Keep track of all he took
Then sentence him, by the book.
Heckley, Jekylly, criminal
He prefers to be subliminal.
But mostly he’s a bad motor scooter
A cutpurse and a poorhouse looter.

Tired of waiting at windows
Walking floors like widows
Peeking through the blinds
Waiting ‘til the sun shines.
Missing the sound of your voice
But it’s not that I have a choice.

I am bewitched, that’s all
I fell to your siren call
I gave up my soul to you
There’s nothing I can do
I’m mesmerized
By your **** eyes.
I’m bewitched, that’s all
I didn’t know I’d fall.

Some people think I’m crazy
Others tell me I’m too lazy
To go out and try again.
Try dating some other men
But they don’t know what I see;
A guy who is perfect for me
Except for not coming home
And letting me cry all alone.

I am bewitched, that’s all
I fell to your siren call
I gave up my soul to you
There’s nothing I can do
I’m mesmerized
By your **** eyes.
I’m bewitched, that’s all
I didn’t know I’d fall.

I know I’m a fool in other eyes
They tell me he’s a shallow guy
They tell me this ain’t what love is
To be so gone on one man’s kiss
But they weren’t there, cannot know.
Sometimes that’s just how it goes.
They say I’m doing something wrong
That I let you fool me all along.

I am bewitched, that’s all
I fell to your siren call
I gave up my soul to you
There’s nothing I can do
I’m mesmerized
By your **** eyes.
I’m bewitched, that’s all
I didn’t know I’d fall.

You can sing it to the tune
Of I Shot The Devil,
But I totally did it
Strictly on the level.
No, I didn’t know it when,
For another night of ***,
He asked me to his den
Under the spell of some hex.

It was like he was to me
The hottest guy ever seen.
He was built like a star
His hair had a fine sheen.
Body and face were fine;
Toned and masculine.
I’d never seen him before
Though I had often been.

He used his elocution
And handy circumlocution
Better than a Rosicrucian
Sentenced to an institution.
He could twist the moment
Out of a frenzied foment
Then to a crazy torment
With muted arcane comments.

We met in a bath house
On Melrose, West L.A.
And somehow that night
Things seemed to go my way.
He gave me the eye
And I returned it in full.
I am fairly certain that
We both felt the pull.

It was all about debauchery
And he was calling the shots
Making me see I got stupid
Whenever I got that hot.
I let my **** do the thinking
And he seemed glad to show
That I would flirt with danger
And then, not even know.

He used his elocution
And handy circumlocution
Better than a Rosicrucian
Sentenced to an institution.
He could twist the moment
Out of a frenzied foment
Then to a crazy torment
With muted arcane comments.

So, I went back for seconds
At Hedda Hopper’s apartment
Across from Mae West’s place
Fueled with no armament
To protect me from what
Would turn out to be, for me
The scariest ****** encounter
In my busy, young history.

We were doing the deed again
But this time things had changed.
His appearance began to alter
Into something scary and strange.
His canine teeth grew longer
And his body turned fiery red.
I quickly dressed and left that place
And stumbled back home to my bed.

He used his elocution
And handy circumlocution
Better than a Rosicrucian
Sentenced to an institution.
He could twist the moment
Out of a frenzied foment
Then to a crazy torment
With muted arcane comments.

Feeling sorry for myself.
Feeling sorry by myself.
Waiting and watching and pining away
Wasting what’s left of a miserable day.
Humming the sad songs
I hear in my head.
I can do nothing but
Lie in my bed
Feeling sorry, just feeling sorry
For myself.

I sit in the dark wondering
What I did wrong
Or asking myself what I
Left so undone.
It has to be my fault
So I take the blame.
I doubt that I could be
More tired of this game.

Feeling sorry for myself.
Feeling sorry by myself.
Waiting and watching and pining away
Wasting what’s left of a miserable day.
Humming the sad songs
I hear in my head.
I can do nothing but
Lie in my bed
Feeling sorry, just feeling sorry
For myself.

Why do the rules have to be
So stinking unfair?
Is there a referee
Hiding somewhere?
One who can come rule
On how this has gone?
I m stuck with the clues
I just stumble upon.

Feeling sorry for myself.
Feeling sorry by myself.
Waiting and watching and pining away
Wasting what’s left of a miserable day.
Humming the sad songs
I hear in my head.
I can do nothing but
Lie in my bed
Feeling sorry, just feeling sorry
For myself.

While not everybody naps
Simply everybody craps.
If you don’t you’re a goner
I swear by my honor
There’s no substitute for it
So just get used to it.
It’s like boogers, you see
It’s not talked of openly.

The public has an allergy
Of what can be said honestly.
You can admit to burping
But must do so excusing
As if you had taken a dump
Instead of expelling a lump
Of non-poisonous gas.
Society is a ***.

And while we’re at it
We live in a world here
Where ******* are reshaped
And formed by a brassiere
But no crotch bulges for men
Especially not big shaped ones.
As I have already implied
Society is a mean son-of-a-gun.

Breastfeeding an infant is
Seen as some kind of ****
But under-aged girls in bikinis?
That is why men were born.
They were put on earth to see
And love nature and its gifts.
But women in public should
Not show uncovered ****.

Just remember this and
You will do very well.
Being natural is for sure
The best way to go to hell.
You must always look to
The bluenosed of society
To shape your fine sense
Of decency and propriety.

A natural person, as God made
Is surely just the Devil’s work.
Because the Devil is more
Important that that God ****.
God and Santa make lists
And punish us by and bye
But Satan does it right now
And then spits in your eye.

So, be the proper citizen
And don’t do what is natural.
Following on nature’s bent
Will do you no good at all.
Even though the Bible won’t
Agree to this simple plan
Just look around you to learn
What is in society’s plan.

Buddy Buzzkill
Waits ‘til nobody’s home
Jimmies a window, sneaks in
And is free to roam.
He smokes all the dope
Drinks all the alcohol
Eats all the food
Until none is left at all.
Then he sleeps in your bed
And sneaks back out again
He comes back; hears you moan
How somebody broke in
And robbed him when he was not home.

Buddy Buzzkill
He’s a special king of louse.
He pretends to like you
Then, sleeps with your spouse.
He’ll hit you up for money
Then he’ll borrow your car.
And you lend it to him
That’s the kind of sap you are.
What is it about this guy
That makes it hard to say no?
Why does it not occur to folks
To look at him and say, “Blow!”

Buddy Buzzkill
He’s a master at telling tales
Of people he has laid
And the times he was in jail
For some ludicrous reason
That is always the fault of others.
He tell you how much you mean
And that you are like brothers
And then one morning you rise
And your stereo is gone
And so is Buddy Buzzkill
It’s time for him to move on.

He’s a social chameleon.
He is whoever you want
Whenever you want it
And he’s glad to flaunt it.
He serves me Doctor Pepper
In a crystal champagne flute
And whistles heavy metal
In a double-knit pantsuit
Since he dresses from yard sales
In cheap period clothes
Everybody seems to know him
Wherever he goes.

But, they don’t know his name
Only his audacious style
That either runs people off
Or makes them smile.
He only cares for opinions
That make him happy inside
And assumes any criticism
Is because somebody lied.
He dances like a club kid
But is well into middle age.
He knows all the song lyrics
That are the current rage.

He makes his money painting
HIs canvases of chaos
Covered with a thousand splashes
Of house paint in gloss.
He says they are like music
Each color has a separate tone
And if you can’t enjoy his art
Then leave him the hell alone.
He’s skinny, but delicate
With the bone structure of gods
You’ll not have seen his type before
I will lay you bookable odds.

His one solid weakness
And everybody knows
Is that he sings all the time
And everywhere he goes.
That would be quite lovely
But he can’t carry a tune.
So he looks like an old photo
And makes noises like a loon.

Just in case you wondered
I love all my fellow poets.
Even if you blundered
I think you should know it.
You have taken me places
That I have never been
And unless I read more from you
I will never get there again.

You have painted the insides
Of my mind in psychedelics
Or showed me galleries
Of otherwise forgotten relics.
You let me walk with you
To your personal locations
And taken me on trips
Of twenty-line vacations.

You have used your words
Like brushes full of paint.
You have shown me clarity
And pointed out social taint.
You’ve shared your family
And the lovers in your life.
Some were Lochinvars
And some were a fishwife.

You parsing and your cadence
Helped put shyness aside.
You encouraged me to know you
Where others try to hide.
It’s amazing that in one page
You manage to become a friend
And then you stay with me
Long after the poem ends.

Neener, neener, neener
Your daddy is a wiener
A peener, a geener
A ***** magaziner.

Nanny, nanny boo boo
Stick your head in doo doo
Your granny has got put in jail
For practicing at voodoo.

Olly Olly Oxen Fee
I see you, you can’t see me.
I am smart, you are not.
Just how stupid can you be?

Waka, waka, waka
You look like an alpaca
Your mama should have taken you
And stuffed you in a locker.

Zimmy, zimmy, zim
Your luck is getting slim.
Bad Luck Billy says you’re
You’re almost bad as him.

Hardy hardy har
You think you are a star
But an extra in a walk-on role
Is what you really are.

Clunkety clunk clunk
Your dreamboat has sunk
You think you smell like roses
But it’s more like a skunk.

Sniggley, sniggley snurt
The truth is bound to hurt
You invested in yourself
And then you lost your shirt.

You’re a smack down
Kick-around, clueless clown
That tells unfunny jokes
And runs with the blokes
That put up with your antics
And your busted semantics
Because they think someday
Things might swing your way
And they can profit by association
With a human abomination
That enjoys investing atrocities
With scarifying velocity
On the halt and the lame;
Running opportunistic games
On those who cannot defend;
World without end, amen.

But heaven forfend
That you might have a friend
Who seems a holy prophet
But does not seek for profit
And acolytes to their cause;
A bogus Santa Claus
Who leeches from the people
In his church without a steeple,
Just microwave towers
Sprouting like ugly flowers
To spread out the message
So we can read every passage
That boil down to a sermon
To send money to this vermin
Your bund proclaims a messiah
When he is really a pariah
Nobody has yet recognized
He’s so well disguised.

But, be aware, polecat
Some know what your at
And what you are doing
I nothing more than accruing
That which you can bank.
You have nobody to thank
For the outcome you inherit
From the outcome you assume
When your calumnies bloom
Into the realities that appear
When the truth draws near
And tars and feathers you
And when your victims do
What they should have done along
Was reject your ways gone wrong
And found a rail lying around
To ride your **** out of town.

Act one, scene one;
A date with drama
Has just begun.
Two youngsters
Hale of body
Ready to run.

Act two, scene one;
Excitement does not
Necessarily mean fun.
Too many secrets
Not enough revealed
By either one.

Act three scene one;
Good news can be
Bad news for some.
A lucky break
A chance to take
One could not shun.

Then comes intermission
Perhaps time for confession.
Sometimes no, sometimes yes
But maybe too much to confess.
Perhaps that’s how it goes
Maybe romance owes
Its success to mystery.
One chooses one’s own misery.

Act four scene four;
Being very careful
What you wish for
Seems obvious
When one looks back.
So very patrician.

Act five, scene one;
The denouement begun.
The finale can be dramatic
All cacophonic static
Or the lovers can walk off
Hand in hand in the sun.

Rap is crap
Can be written while napping
By simply slapping words like zapping
Up alongside trapping and wrapping
And suddenly you’re a rap star
Driving an expensive car
And before your coffee is cold
You are draped with gold
Maximum bling
But it doesn’t mean a thing
Other than money because honey
If your ‘song’ lyrics are still known.
When ten years are blown by
And you are no longer a famous guy
Whose words are forgotten
It is because they are misbegotten
And liked by the current batch of airheads
Who think this is music when instead
It’s a beat they can feel in their feet
And if they don’t read the words
Printed in the album, what is heard
Is a lot of screaming and percussion
Not worth discussion in Billboard.

Someone could cut the microphone cord
And all anyone could hear would be drums
And the audience spilling their beer,
And nothing worth humming;
Lyrics for the dumbing down of the race,
A major entertainment disgrace
That destroys the ears and means nothing
That will ever be revered like Sinatra
Elvis or The Beatles have done.
It may be number one today
But when time passes away
It will be nothing but the shouts
Of a bunch of untalented louts
To an audience one has to fear
Was born with a tin ear.

Brent Kincaid
6/1/2015

Wedding bells
The heart swells
A couple of people teary
Nobody here is leery
When it is two guys
Marrying after so many years.
Not an occasion for tears
They walk hand in hand
Toward a more grand
Joining together
Wedding each other
Now that some in society
See it is propriety;
Now that love is love
And over half the people
Know that couples
Are those who marry
And cease to carry
Their old angry baggage
Like stinking luggage
Into a loving occasion.

There is no reason.
Everyone here knows
That is how love goes.
It is between two hearts
No cart before the horse.
It’s a matter of course.
And, of course, family and friends
Not just kith, but kin
Are happy and celebrating
For the long awaited mating
Of two that fought the tides
And made it here where abides
That rosy day of knowing each other
Part of a couple officially;
Equally exciting and peacefully
Into a new morning of a new day.
What better way is there to say
I love you, a phrase not new
But this time said for two?
And certifiably, legally too.

I closed the box and hid it
So many years ago now
That I forgot all about it
But, I am not sure how.
It meant so much to me
Back when memory hurt.
I told myself I was a victim
And love had done me dirt.

It was only a short affair
Love lasting longer than the act.
I labeled it to myself and others
As the best as a matter of fact.
Prince Charming and all that;
The love of my life back then.
The most I had ever ventured;
The fullest my heart had been.

I only had to see my love
For all of my plans to change
To fall so fast and so hard
Never for a moment felt strange.
It felt so completely natural
To dedicate all of my dreams
And all of my hope for life.
Now, how crazy that seems.

But who can tell young love
How to behave and how to act.
It sometimes seems madness
As if I and the devil made a pact.
But it was more that someone
Looked and found love in my eyes.
When that is the feeling happening
Who stops to think of goodbyes?

I still have the love I felt then
And cradle it deep inside
And the box holds mementos
I carefully collected to hide.
Each item as I touch them
Takes me back to that day
And gives me back the love
I never want to feel go away.

MAMA DON’T ALLOW

Mama don’t allow no carpetbaggers ‘round here
Mama don’t allow no carpetbaggers ‘round here
We care a lot what Mama will allow
Carpetbaggers ain’t no good no how.
Mama don’t allow no carpetbaggers ‘round here.

Mama don’t allow no gerrymandering here
Mama don’t allow no gerrymandering here
We give a hoot what Mama will allow
Leave districts right where they are right now.
Mama don’t allow no gerrymandering here.

Mama don’t allow no poll taxing ‘round here.
Mama don’t allow no poll taxing ‘round here.
We don’t need Jim Crow no more
We know just what that is for
Mama don’t allow no poll taxing ‘round here.

Mama don’t allow no warmongering here
Mama don’t allow no warmongering here
We care a lot what Mama will allow
We’ve had too much war, don’t start no row.
Mama don’t allow no warmongering here.

Mama don’t allow no segregating ‘round here.
Mama don’t allow no segregating ‘round here.
Mama says we all take a breath
We all got born and all face death
Mama don’t allow no segregating ‘round here.

Brent Kincaid
5/15/2015

The rich get richer
And the poor get *******.
That’s my definition
Of the common word: ‘lewd’.
The richest country
In the whole world today
And we can’t make crooks
In politics go away.

We could feed everyone
And give them a home free
With what the military
Pays in armorer’s fees.
We could use the cash
We waste to wage the wars
To rebuild our highways
And our bridges once more.

We could fix the laws
So politicians don’t get rich
And make it legal
To fire a crooked sunsabitch.
We change thing easily
So one issue got one bill
And declare this horse trading
As antique and over the hill.

Then make sure everyone
Was covered for insurance
And give our veterans
Comfortable benefit assurance.
We’d have enough money
To do some helpful research
To knock crooked companies
Off their comfortable evil perch.

We could stop sending cash
To countries that are bad guys
Then stop using rhetoric
That is a xenophobic disguise.
We could do all this stuff
In a matter of a few short years
And make sure our children
No longer have to live in fear.

See the Republican,
Hop, hop, hop.
Hack up the welfare laws
Chop, chop, chop.
See him getting wealthy,
Shop, shop, shop.
Watch all our forests go
Drop, drop, drop.

Teflon coated Republican,
Crook, crook, crook.
Put him in a prison cell,
Book, book, book.
Fine him for every dime he
Took, took, took.
Check out his finances,
Look, look, look.

Hear the Republican,
Lie, lie, lie.
Selling out constituents,
Sigh, sigh, sigh.
Writing up new voting laws,
Cry, cry, cry.
Cutting breaks for all the rich,
Why, why, why?

Smell the Republican,
Stink, stink, stink.
Defender and a patriot,
Wink, wink, wink.
Master of the magic trick,
Blink, blink, blink.
Hater of the common man,
Fink, fink, fink.

Hey ** and there you go
And when you get there
Well, there you are.
Now, ain’t that something;
Better than nothing?
Two guys walk into a bar.

The barkeep asks them
What will you guys have?
The both gave him a look.
I would like to be rich
Both guys said, but that
Is neither aa creek or a brook

Two little old ladies
Were rocking on a porch
Throwing fruit at passersby.
Their husbands hid out
Finding it were best
In case someone asked why.

All this and all that was
Somewhere not quite all
The way to awesome.
There were a few pretty boys
And then some women that
Were known as handsome.

Eenie meenie miney moe
Olly olly oxen fee.
Whattya know about that?
Higgeldy piggledee
Hotsy and totsy, has
Your tongue got your cat?

Thingamjigs, doolollies
Gadgets, whirlygigs
Don’t amount to nothing.
Whatsername and Miss Thing
That ought to do it right now
To keep your beer frothing.

I was the frightened little kid
Who got pushed against the wall.
I wasn’t terribly masculine
Had acne and was not very tall.
Or maybe it was my intelligence
Or artistic talent that drew the ire.
It was an ever-changing list
That drew my fellow student’s fire.

Maybe it was that my game
Was never quite there for sports.
Or maybe when I did not join
On jokes about **** and other sorts
Of woman demeaning quips
They had to have learned at home.
Parental misguidance one oh one
Not learned at school on the roam.

Whatever it was, I got beaten
And locked inside my own locker.
And I got called ***** and ***.
Now isn’t that a big fat shocker?
I got shoved around in hallways
And knocked out cold by a creep.
I didn’t even know the ****
But he decided to put me to sleep.

And when the faculty was called
I was suspended along with the guy.
The school’s policy it seemed
Was to punish both kids. Ask why.
I asked and I was told sternly
That the school really did not care
The attacker and the attacked
Had the same punishment to share.

Now, in this case, the attacker was
Known to be a ruffian and a miscreant.
And I was known to be a wimp.
So why give me unusual punishment
When I was already being punished
For not being some kind of snorting ****?
This was like the school system
Giving my jaw an extra and official sock!

It would be nice to say about this
That it was a totally isolated incident,
And that principals seldom pass out
This officially thoughtless kind of punishment.
But I heard that line so many times
I could have lip-synched right along with him
As the principal mouthed a policy line
From a time grown distant and dangerously dim.

School gym coaches called us girls
If we didn’t keep up with hand-picked brutes
Who enjoyed inherited musculature
And bigot approved physical attributes.
So those of us who were who we were
And could not manage mow down the men
At the line of scrimmages
Were called ‘lils’ and fairies once again.

It is like some steampunk nightmare
Where working overtime is a racket
When what was time and a half pay
On the day I get my check, I make less;
Some kind of tax bracket scam thing
Where working extra hours put me
Into another category and increased
The tax they use to grease the wheels
Of a bloated government that hates me.
Maybe that dates me and it isn’t true;
That things have changed and it is
No longer arranged that way. And maybe
The way things became done was that
I got it all back as a refund. But isn’t that
Redundant, that I had to pay it to them
To use it like per diem for their games?

The shame is that I chafed and did nothing
Besides ******* and frothing at the mouth.
It’s not like I could go south to Ensenada,
Buy a piñata that looked like Mickey Mouse,
It was just that the house always wins.
But I have to pay for my tiny, mundane sins.
Why don’t they? Why does it go on and on
And then the money’s gone and I pay more
The next time some fat ***** of a politician
Begins a petition to increase their slice
And nicely reduce ours to a pittance
So low there is no admittance to a show
Or enough to replace a car that is a wreck?

The albatross around my neck gets larger
As it I move farther from the day it died
Even though I have tried standing up straighter.
It’s The Grand Guignol Theatre that life is
And the strife is to not let it get me down;
To be the happy clown and not the sad one
In a game that was begun to make me lose.
I am not confused. I see it, but it seems
Even in dreams I get no kind of relief
From a governmental thief with immunity;
The pillages with impunity and teases
That he does what he pleases. Neener, neener
What in hell could possibly be meaner?

So far you are good at pollution
And other pocket lining resolutions.
You look at graft as a noble institution
While you work to undo the constitution.

No matter, it is our geese that are cooked
As long as you have pricey vacations booked
Don’t miss any vote-buyer’s finger crooked
As long as the very richest fish are hooked

You quickly learn to so slickly lie
While looking people in the eye
We’d be better if you said goodbye
But you don’t so we just sit and cry.

And as you ruin all of our credit
You take our Social Security and bet it
And it’s our fault because we let it
And then when you steal it, we forget it

But your fingerprints on the knife in the back
Proves to everyone you are all off of the track
Everybody is busy giving you nothing but slack
Like all of us are some kind of lobbyist hack

It is we who have to watchdog your legislation
We have to stop this lethal voter hesitation
The moment the crooks come up for elimination
We must vote them out or there is no restoration

This free ticket to rob us can’t last forever.
Someday the people will all band together
And you will find out quickly whether
America is wise enough to pull that lever.

I used to live in a country
That was based on liberty
And where just anybody
Could achieve prosperity
That with assured equality
And working diligently
One could expect definitely
To succeed economically
If you saved all the money
Left over from your salary
To save to bring your family
A step closer to solvency.

Not an impossible proposition,
It was based on the condition
Of a grand national institution
Which promised that stabilization
By taxing us and corporations
With an equitable correlation
Between folks of humble station
And the larger organizations
Working in happy syncopation.
A welcome feeling of elation
Would descend upon our nation
And keep us from stagnation
Or going into nationwide deflation,
Or just as scary, a huge inflation.

Now I look upon our history
And see decades of misery
Laid upon us by calumny
By those meant to fortify
And build up our security.
The constant forces of calamity
If we accept less than probity
From those who have no honesty
Choosing leaders based on beauty
A national cult of personality
Then permit political chicanery
By people with no dignity
Only a greedy criminality
That pretends to propriety
And a devout base of spirituality
When what we have is actually
A kangaroo court of dishonesty
Without a care for the citizenry.

I can clearly state
And easily enumerate
No need to exaggerate
That in the aggregate
Up until the current date
The state of our beloved state
Has chosen to populate
The majority of the electorate
With the dregs of the vulgate.

I’m stating that our congress
Has become a total mess
With the outcome being less
Pleasing than a pool of cess.
With many of ‘no’ and few of ‘yes’
I fear we have to confess
We will be forced to dress
In ***** rags and even less
Too broke for a game of chess.

We are a buckless stag nation
On less than WW2 B rations
Caught in the collaboration
Between rightist indignation
And hyper-religious damnation
Golden calf worship and adoration
Built on the dollar sign adulation
Fostered by the dissembling peroration
By the authors of American privation.

Our representatives sell out constantly
And take in our dollars steadily
Saying yes to bribery readily
Feathering their beds happily
Ignoring their promises fearlessly
Because they proceed quite protectedly
From any repercussions legally
From the almighty powers that be
That coddle and tend them carefully.
It has to be that way necessarily
In this falsely-labeled free country.

He wanted to be minister
And pass laws quite sinister
But nobody would ever elect him.
So, he stood for the seat
And risked his defeat
And let all the people reject him.

But he was the very one
Who in the end won
When the opposition underestimated.
So, the county was undone
When the mountebank won
And the country ended up decimated.

The minister made a war
That was tried once before
And it came to a much worse end.
The country went broke
Except for any bloke
That could be called the minister’s friend.

As always is with war
The few that forbore
And stayed back home made billions.
They country suffered loss
And bore all of war’s cost.
But not so the minister’s minions.

The way politics plays out
Even when there is no doubt
And a minister is a total disaster.
The party he commanded then
Refused to abandon him
And used lies to help bear him out.

When the ruckus was done
The country was undone
But somehow the minister escaped jail.
It’s a sad tale to relate
That although he wasn’t great
His county ended up making his bail.

Sometimes it’s like a magic trick
And suddenly someone is there.
It’s like you’ve known each other
But can’t remember just where.
But quickly thinking is not the thing.
Instead it’s feeling that matters.
Your lifelong fear of heartbreak
And trusting suddenly shatters.

The two of you find yourself
Talking like long-lost friends
And before you even know it
Something wonderful begins.
Looking into each other’s eyes
And it seems to mean so much.
It feels like warm caresses
But you haven’t even touched.

As the evening goes on, joyously
Enjoying laughing and walking.
Then the time has finally come.
You find you need to start talking.
“Now that we have met each other
Won’t you stay just one more hour;
Just be here close together
And let this romance fully flower?”

It’s just that simple, just that easy
For the love affair to get its start.
Two people you were before now
Have become just this one heart.
Everything seems to have changed.
The air is fresher somehow.
The lights are brighter, the colors too.
The world is just perfect now.

Brent Kincaid
4/25/2015

I never feared the monster hiding
Sliding out from under my bed
To grab me by the head and drag me
Into some dark, dIngy vicinity.
I had the real thing to fear. We all did
And it only hid when other adults saw.
The fear would gnaw at me forever
And I felt it would never let up.
A couple of times I felt I would die
Because I tried to stop it; to cry
To beg, to wheedle, to quake.
But I could not shake her hold.
I wasn’t all that old, but I began
To plan. I did her household chores
But she wanted more; laundry,
Preparing the meals she completed.
Defeated, I knew it was no good.
I had done everything I could.

I remember it. Oh, yes. Clearly.
Nearly every scene resonates
Grates and whips me relentlessly
Just as hard, and painfully as she
Whipped us; me and my brothers
Not acting like a mother, but mad.
Not so much angry as insane.
She was the bane of our existence
With no diluting of that phrase.
And it was not a phase, it was there
When we were home, alone
With her when she indulged her rage.
To that stage when she could not stop;
Not turn back and be the caregiver.
I still shiver. I feel the belts or sticks
Stripe across my back or my legs
When, begging, I tried to stop her;
Threaten to call the cops or something
But nothing worked since Dad was a cop.

The cops or the county would come by
When a nearby neighbor called on her
But when they heard our name, they stopped
And since Dad was a cop, they dropped it
And would sit and ask us in front of her
Whether she was beating us or whatever.
Never would we rat her out because
The claws would come out when they left
And she’d heft whatever she used on us.
And fussing and crying only made it worse.
Once a nurse turned her in to the school
And some fool from the county dropped by
To write down Mom’s lies and ask us again
In front of the woman from the welfare
And we were too scared to tell the truth.
We were in the beginnings of our youth.
How could we defeat a monster that knew
Where and when we slept. What could we do?

I used to like you when you were dumb.
Then you smartened up and it pains me some.
You question almost everything I say.
You use these big words almost every day.
You really are making my brain cells hum.

You used to be **** when you talked.
You had this trampy twist in the way you walked.
You did everything I told you to do.
Now you want to try things that are new.
And at that, baby, I just have to balk.

I really do prefer the way you used to be.
You made sure to do things that pleased me.
Dinner was always right on time,
And serving leftovers was a crime.
Now meals are not the way they should be.

I used to be breadwinner around here.
That was one thing that was totally clear.
I gave you a weekly allowance to spend.
None of this going out for drinks with friends,
Now you have a job and sometimes you’re not here.

I think the cause of this is all this reading.
You think you’re getting smart is misleading.
You are getting a different attitude
And I think a lot of them are rude.
There are some basic truths you aren’t heeding.

So you should put the Bible on your list.
As a matter of fact, I really do insist.
It tells you I am the important one
And you are just a planet to my sun.
So it isn’t God’s will that you resist.

Brent Kincaid
4/24/2015

He was sitting on a fencepost
A mouth harp in his hand
He started making music
Like a ghostly rubber band.
He called me a stranger
And, I asked him how he knew.
He raised his head and stared
And seemed to look me through.
He said:
There is nothing down this highway
But heartbreak and a tale
Nobody will friend you here
There’s nothing good for sale
We are here with no way out
So move right on away
You only have your freedom
If you don’t let yourself stay.

Some people think it’s heaven
‘Cause they never had a chance
They never had a friend before
A storybook romance.
They made some stupid choices
Now there’s a piper to pay.
They’re deaf to rhyme or reason
No matter what you say.
Some believe they never had
The character to change,
That they were born without a dream
The hopeless and strange.

But we know lonely backroads
That never reach the bay.
We live in fogs of memory
Here in Futile Quay.
Where once we were children;
Now we never smile.
Our trip down this highway
Is a never-ending mile.
So go on back to comfort
To security and plans.
Stay too long in Futile Quay
You’re out of fortune’s hands.

Brent Kincaid
10/22/2010