Plastic hippies and flashy Hollywood ******;
These were my neighbors and much much more.
The memorable characters on my famous street
Didn’t always have money or shoes on their feet.

I was the person meant to grow up
Finding these neighbors disgusting.
That was before all the questions I had
Of the vengeful God I was trusting.

But, I came to know that people
Must be more than what Sunday
And all the  hypocritical singing
Would claim them to be someday.

So I started learning what people
Do when they act and walk
Then tried to match those actions up
With how people behave and talk.

Plastic hippies and flashy Hollywood ******;
These were my neighbors and much much more.
The memorable characters on my famous street
Didn’t always have money or shoes on their feet.

Let The plastic hippies pretend
How mellow and tolerant they are
In their designer Levi cutoff shorts
And their carefully chosen used cars.

And expensive ****** and slinky pimps
Turn out to be much the same thing
They do what they do, get what they get
And all of it to please some great king.

Is that any different than praying in church
To invisible God they don't know?
Sneer if you wish and call it a sin
But I don't think that's how it should go.

Plastic hippies and flashy Hollywood ******;
These were my neighbors and much much more.
The memorable characters on my famous street
Didn’t always have money or shoes on their feet.

I will ride this horse
Until I'm shot down
And even then I will
Crawl along the ground
Until I lift my eyes
And I can see that right
Has won the battle
Against greed and might.

I will pull myself up
Through blood and pain
Until not one square mile
Of hatred will remain.
I will call out those who
Label villainy other names
And strive to make them see
That evil is just the same.

Up to that precious day
I will never rest quietly
Until peace in our world
Shall lie and rest beside me,
Until this will come to pass
I, the discontented messenger,
Will point the way to integrity,
And be its constant harbinger.

We are allowed to be unkind
To the sick, the deaf and the blind.
We gladly toss them into a ditch.
They don't matter; They are not rich.
We giggle and count what we’ve got
Laugh uproariously at those who have not.
We call our poor neighbors our inferiors
Because having money makes one superior.

It also works the same with every race.
Supremacy is about the color of your face.
It starts there and moves to include nationality.
Only Caucasian Americans match our reality.
Sure non-whites can pick our cotton for us
But, as for equality, the concept will bore us.
It says in the Bible you have to be from here
And white and Protestant, those words are clear.

And this stuff about **** and lesbians too
Not one word of that civil rights stuff is true.
My preacher told me gay people are abomination.
That’s why us Republicans support segregation.
That's some of what is wrong with our schools
Somebody has been listening to communist fools.
We need to get back to the good way things were
Before all this equality stuff was allowed to occur.

I tell you the truth, this stuff totally makes me burn.
I mean, these college-warped hippies need to learn
That this country is a Christian one, since beginning
So, we don’t want this equality stuff you’re selling.
Just shine our shoes and park our expensive cars
And we’ll tip you a little bit and there you are;
Right there in the place all of you ought to be;
Freedom is for us rich whites, it’s American history.

The Right believes it is right
And so by default we are left
To fight both day and night, bereft
Of the loving eye of Propriety.
Denied by those with single site
Those who once believed in divine right
Even though that was never right
Never really acceptable
Mostly reprehensible
Spouting their religious twaddle
They were always ready to fight
For what they were told was right.

The Right listens to entertainment
And claims they are news shows.
And regard the truth with amazement
But that is just the way it goes
When you are raised by dunderheads
Who think education is a waste.
Listening to people like that
Will always leave a horrible taste
For those who prefer research
And knowing what is going on.
But don’t expect the Right to see
Charlatans and say “Move on!”

The idea is to listen to the words
And find the ones you want to hear
And then parrot back the lies
Smiling broadly from ear to ear.
Every time you repeat untruths
They gain a bit more credibility
And it matters not one whit
That the words don’t mach reality.
So, the Right keeps up the fight
For anger and hatred to win.
And every time the truth arises
The Right will fight it once again.

Hyperbole in front of me,
Political effrontery,
Lies dressed up as Scripture,
Treason beyond conjecture.
No hope of restitution
A gutted constitution
Guarded by mercenaries
Who hate blacks and fairies.

A pain to liberal brains
As hope goes down the drain
While major constituencies
Are sold out for SUVs.
Journalists lost their relevance
Kissing the haunches of elephants
In a mad rush every news day
To keep their beloved pay.

Chip-off-the-block jabberwocky;
Son talks his Daddy’s talky.
With no attempt at recompense
The fool makes little sense,
Hiding behind the leverage
He gets from his evil heritage.
There’s no need of morality
Or decency or much formality.

No matter how much criticized,
The wrongly, constantly victimized
Suffer the ignominy yearly
And continue to pay dearly
From our position down on our knees
As they try to rob everyone they see
And we are the casualties of infamy
Because neighbors stand by silently.

Never forget
The lines in my face
Are no disgrace
They speak of a place
You haven’t been yet.

And remember too
The gray in my hair
Is a tale of somewhere;
Tales I can share
That might help guide you.

The frequent bend
In each of my knees
Is on someone who sees
The future as eminent
And the past as a friend.

And my sight now is new;
It’s harder for me
To correctly see
What I read in books
But not what people do.

I’ve heard the sounds of time
The joys and the tears
For so oh many years;
I can tell the difference
Between blessings and crimes.

My mom warned me
About the ****** man.
I feared he would come
And find out who I am
And stick his fingers
Right up my own nose
But daddy quickly told me
That’s not the way it goes.

He said your mama has
A kind of impediment
That makes her talk funny
Not say what she meant.
And we were all accustomed
To words mom got wrong.
We seldom made a comment
We’d just nod and go along.

So, I grew up with stories
Of a guy called the Boogerman.
That was the way of childhood
In the neighborhood where I ran.
He was scary and if you failed
To watch out very carefully
He’d sneak up in the night
And grab you quite suddenly.

Some said he would eat you
Like the wolf in fairy stories.
All of the tales were scary
And none of them were glories.
But I never saw or met anyone
Who seemed to fit the description
Until I was grown, recently, and
That was the obvious definition.

He seems to hate everybody
And lives up high behind guards.
He growls and spits and shouts
And uses ugly nasty words.
Boogerman is the only thing
That fits the creep he seems;
The kind of creature found
In ‘wake up screaming’ dreams.

I’m sure when he bakes and eats
The people too dumb to run away
He gobbles and gulps and slobbers
In the most disgusting of ways.
And though some just nod and say
Well, that’s how stuff with him goes,
I am sure that he does it all the while
With his finger up his nose.

I can't explain Trump by assuming
Half of our country was ******.
There must be many more factors
Than that one reason alone.
A huge part of it must be sloth
That so many people haven’t seen
Through an election between a
Failed businessman and an American queen.

All my life I heard it said,
This is all you’ll ever need.
These words drummed into my head
Stay in school, work hard and succeed.
Something in our garden has
Never bloomed from this seed.
I guess they never figured on
Excessive corporate greed.

It’s like watching  train wreck
Were people paid to be in it.
You keep hoping it will
Get better in a minute
But then some **** threatens
To take away human rights
And half the fools in the country
Refuse to put up a fight.

All my life I heard it said,
This is all you’ll ever need.
These words drummed into my head
Stay in school, work hard and succeed.
Something in our garden has
Never bloomed from this seed.
I guess they never figured on
Excessive corporate greed.

The thieves we see now in DC
Get rich from robbing those who work.
Those of us who are not wealthy
Are looked on as a gullible ****.
So where’s the land we were promised?
What happened to the Golden Rule?
And why are we being gutpunched
By a ugly, evil illiterate fool?

All my life I heard it said,
This is all you’ll ever need.
These words drummed into my head
Stay in school, work hard and succeed.
Something in our garden has
Never bloomed from this seed.
I guess they never figured on
Excessive corporate greed.

THE LADY OF ALOT

Estatic when she's shopping,
The boughten things she's got;
Right proud of all her purty stuff,
She's The Lady Of Alot.
Alot of costly Chinese stuff
Imported hear by Walmart stores.
She useta shop at I Magnums but
She don't like them ones no more.

Irregardless, she believes she
Ain't not no ordnary ****.
If she'd of got haffa chance
She'd of voted twice for Trump
And the strait Republican ticket
So The Donald can fix are country
Like he exhaled in his own companies,
Making lots of good clean money.

In her sweatshop-made clothing
She shouts allowed she can't wate
For the Grand Old Party and Trump
To agin make Murrkuh grate!
She feel she's happy in her ivory tower
With all the treasures she has got.
She sees nothing wrong with this country
The dense, nearsighted, Lady Of Alot.

There's a goat on my roof.
I have no idea why.
I'm not raising goats.
I won't even try.
I can see how he got up there;
Scaled my shed like a hill.
I hooted trying to scare him off
But he is up there crying still.

There’s a goat on my roof.
And he seems to want something
He’s very noisy about himself
And he smells disgusting.
I’ve tried dragging him down
But he gets back up again.
It’s enough to make a cusser
Of any normal patient men.

The goat that’s on my roof
Is material for a comedian.
He’s so **** annoying
He might be a Republican.
He makes a lot of noise
And insists on getting his way.
He’s good for practically nothing
And has little of import to say.

The goat that’s on my roof
Seems to serve his own needs.
I don’t understand goat enough
To know about his greed.
Does he need tastier food
Or maybe a **** girlfriend?
I  really want this episode
To come to a speedy end.

Let people be free.
Let the people see.
Don’t hide any more,
Behind closed doors.
Come out into the sun
There is work to be done
And for better or worse
The people come first.

Our current incentives
To our representatives
Should not be the cash
From planning a crash.
They have solid connections
Of bribes and our elections.
It is simply not even funny;
The rich get all the money.

Let people be free.
Let the people see.
Don’t hide any more,
Behind closed doors.
Come out into the sun
There is work to be done
And for better or worse
The people come first.

We need so very badly
To  not look on life sadly
And feel there is no way out.
We need to stand and shout.
We need to call criminals
Nothing so subliminal
As conservatives when they
Are crooks in proud display.

Thermometers say you are wrong
But you believe greedy businessmen
Seismographs say you were wrong
But you believe religious charlatans
Electrocardiograms say you're wrong
But you believe the words of bigots
Encephalograms tell you you're wrong
Geiger counters tell you you're wrong
Microscopes tell you you're wrong
Yet you believe the Big Oil propaganda
Telescopes tell you you're wrong
Yet you believe the lies of Big Pharma

It is such an unforgiving task to talk
And know there is nobody in there.
Inside your head, soul or heart;
It’s pathetic to know under your hair
There is the kind of sad mentality
That rejects reality if it disagrees
With something another fool has taught
And though you ought to learn reality
You keep looking for more crazies
To say things that match your philosophy
And that perpetrates the tragedy of today
Which may take decades to go away.
It did the last time.

I want to write my fans
Some more lines about kissy face
And beautiful flowers and lakes
And rainbows all over the place.
But, it is difficult to do today
Because a country of loons
Has elected to take office
A few hundred crazy buffoons.

They are turning our country
Into a place of us and them.
And thermonuclear holocaust
Will be a crazy person’s whim.
A megalomaniac playing soldier
With absolutely no regard
For the outcome of his madness
Makes pretty poetry very hard.

It’s extremely hard to come by
And harder yet to conceive
Because true poetry and art
Only come when we believe
And nothing about our fates now
Are anything other than incredible.
What the GOP has cooked up
Is nowhere close to edible.

To me writing fluffy words in rhyme
Is much like Nero and his fiddling.
I can’t just tap dance for the toffs.
I mean, who would I be kidding?
So, don’t expect hearts and flowers
Or many lovely June, moon tunes.
A completely stupid country has left
Us in the hands of bull goose loons.

When I was just a little kid
Uncle Jeff talked to me
About the things people said
As opposed to what I could see.
He cautioned me to listen
And watch people carefully
He promised me an education,
Just made for little me.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

There are those who even as children
Prefer what other kids get
They grow up to be criminals
So you must not forget.
Another word for criminals
Is a word called ‘politicians’.
They’re very strong with cheating
But not good at admissions.

Money in their bank account
Is all that’s driving them.
Look for their integrity?
The pickings will be slim.
They look for what they can get
From you in many ways.
The cards are marked, you can depend
And they know all the plays.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

You and they don’t think alike;
You can’t guess what they think.
But you can bet when they suggest
The idea will highly stink.
Your best protection is to hide
When these creeps are around.
If you have to pack your things
And move to a different town.

I have learned my Uncle Jeff
Was wise beyond his years.
He had a lot of wisdom stored
Securely between his ears.
He shared them with a little child
And I listened to what he said.
I heard his words as clean pure truth
And kept them in my head.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away?
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

Mirrors are all traitors
As in them I can see
Just what a monster I am;
That I will always be.
I have lumps and and spots
That make me unloveable.
And everything I eat is
Another bite of trouble.

Why can’t I ever look
Like the models in the book?
Why is it that I
Can’t look myself in the eye?
No one will look longingly
At the gorgon I turned out to be.

I don’t watch cartoons
Because what I see is me
What did I do to deserve
To become so **** ugly?
Did I cross the path of a cat
That was an omen meant to warn
And I ignored it so now
I inherited this awful form?

Why can’t I be the kind
With a beautifully formed behind?
I wish it was my history
To stimulate evil jealousy.

I want to look like a dream,
But instead I must surrender
A fragile wish, as it seems
An unfilled hope altogether.
Some friends are sweet to me
They say I look fine to them,
But I know what I can see
And I deserve no diadem.

Donnie and Vladimir
In a dacha by the sea
H. U. M. P.
I. N. G.
They’re ******* freedom
And democracy.
Sooner or later they will
Get to you and me.

Vlad likes people
On their knees the best.
And Donnie will do
Anything for a
Family crest.

They both want to become
Dictators for life.
They already believe they
Get to ***** your wife.
It’s only their divine right
They wonder “who could blame us?
After all, we deserve it.
Because we’re famous!”

Vlad keeps a secret
He thinks Don a fool.
But Donnie isn’t bright so
Vlad gladly takes Don
Back to school.

Vlad knows Donnie is
A ***** for acclaim
And public adulation
Which is pretty much the same
So why not use this clown
To accomplish his goals,
And steal all the money
And everyone’s souls.

So, there they are
Each gambleaholic whales
Lording it up and robbing us
When they should be in jail.
The fools that let them rule
And the ones who are to blame
But we have to sift the ashes
While the world is in flames.

I am you and you are me
We are them and they are we.
We’re all one, if they’d just see
We’re joined in our humanity.
We are mostly similarity;
Human souls in multiplicity.
It’s how we’ll succeed eventually.
We’re branches of the same tree.

We’re only different in our names
For the most part, we’re the same.
Some of life gets lost to flame
And some is lost in poker games
But worry not who is to blame
Some veterans are still lame
And represent or common shame.
We’re only different in our names

Yet some of our leaders pretend
That is somehow a fitting end.
They stand on soapboxes again
And wish we were back when
They were not exposed as men
Who steal the eggs from the hens;
Blame the fox coming into the pen
And hide behind the lies of friends.

Still some of us hope for better
And even try to move together
Urging us be good to one another
And follow our laws by the letter.
But if I were any kind of better
I’d  take a test of the weather
And see we must tie a stout tether
Tp those who think themselves our betters.

I am you and you are me
We are them and they are we.
We’re all one, if we’d just see
We’re joined in our humanity.
We are mostly similarity;
Human souls in multiplicity.
It’s how we’ll succeed eventually.
We’re branches of the same tree.

Don't call Trump a chimpanzee.
Chimpanzees can't talk.
Don't call him a pile of ****.
A pile of **** can't walk.
Don’t call Trump an Orange
That would be indiscreet.
You see, different from an orange
Trump is in no way sweet.

Don’t call Trump a swindler
Take his fat *** to court
Because when he needs proof
He will always come up short.
Don’t accuse him of bribery
Unless you have the proof.
He’ll just change his residence
To another unlisted roof.

Don’t call him a squanderer.
He’s not if it’s his money.
Trump likes stealing from other people
He finds that hilariously funny.
Don’t accuse him of gross lechery
He feels that is his right.
Don’t appeal to Trump’s conscious.
He doesn’t have one quite.

Don’t expect Trump to speak the truth.
He doesn’t know what that is.
When they were passing out ethics
He was off taking a wizz.
Don’t whine to us about that ****
And how he disappoints.
He’ll claim you heard him wrong
And that is his only point.

Don’t hope everything will work out
In any way in your favor.
Doing what’s right for regular folk
Is not Donald Trump’s flavor.
Don’t look for anyone in authority
To rescue you from the dump.
And, of course, most of all
Don’t call Trump.

You elected a crazy person
For most of the offices.
You applauded a dictator.
And that is just what he is.
You cheered for a proven liar.
And failed to fact check him.
You voted for a misogynist
And against all of the women.

You elected a bankrupter
To handle all of our money.
You voted for an adulterer.
And seem to find that funny.
You voted for a cheat and liar
And ignored the facts against him.
You trusted a major swindler
Won’t vote him back to the pig pen.

You pretended he was a businessman
When his businesses mostly failed.
You ignored all his crimes in office
When he should have been jailed.
You made your stupid excuses
And stayed home instead of voting.
You listened to Fox and Breitbart;
Shared the crap they were quoting.

Ollyollyoxenfee
All those out can come in free
Many times I got defeated
Sometimes my brother cheated
But it was fun in the coming dark
Playing this game in the park
Better than cowboys and Indians.
We had no issues back then
The cowboys were the good
And the Indians never could
Be good guys, the heroes
Because we’d all seen the shows.

We played ball until evening
When the daylight was thinning.
It messed with our prowess
In the darkening hours
So, we played hide and seek
Like we did every week
And some of us got better
And some not quite ever.
Until our moms would decide
We should all quit and go inside.

These memories have celebrated
Time when life was uncomplicated
And having fun with our friends
Was the happy means to an end.
We didn’t need any electricity
For fun without any real enmity.
Wealth wasn’t the point in that
We just needed trees and a bat.
Then home to our supper glad
For the outrageous time we had
Being happy and having fun
Until the night had begun.

Horrible, soul-less dissemblers
Who **** children for money
Who starve children to put
More money into their banks
With secret accounts off-shore
And want to make more and more.

Too much money to even even score
Because the books are cooked
To let them **** more children
For money because they think it’s funny
To starve more children and blame others;
Everyone but the mothers themselves.

We let them do it, with no sense to it
Just catastrophic greed, no real need
Because they have more money now
Than they can ever spend but somehow
It drives them like the gold fever of old
In 1849 when gold was more important
ThaN life, or integrity or deportment.

"I get paid to hate you" is a new profession
Coupled with never a single confession
For the crimes they commit, what they have done.
No convictions for anyone because they protect
The archcriminals they elect and applaud
When they buy their yachts and mansions abroad
And laugh at how stupid we are to let them.

And then we go right on and forget them
And they do it all again, the same evil men
We give names like ‘honorable’ and ‘decent’
When we really shouldn’t because they aren’t.
TheY **** children for money and pretend
That starving children is an acceptable end
To their avaricious desires and greed.

I have watched you cheat and swindle.
I’ve listened to your shallow lies.
I have seen what passes for integrity
In the avarice that shines from your eyes.
You don’t seem to be able to talk much
Without over-exaggerating the truth.
You speak like the infamous cookie-jar kid,
But, you don’t have the advantage of youth.

It doesn’t take long to recognize
That you are just a fake and a crook.
You can’t avoid exhibiting behavior
Of every villain in the story books.
All you need is a handlebar mustache
And a damsel to rope to the tracks
For us to know exactly who you are;
That Snively Whiplash is back!

But alas we have no Dudley Doright
To come along and vanquish the foe.
The heroes have all died out, it seems
And we only ever had eleven or so.
The rest are cowards, covering ***
And hiding behind wimpy excuses
That let the gang leaders do their worst
And heap on us further abuses.

As always the way with dictators
They need the people to lie down
And let themselves be driven over
By a huge car driven by a clown.
Those are the wimps, and the marks
Who quit learning in elementary school
Who can’t tell a statesman from a crook
And applaud when listening to a fool.

But not all of us are hornswoggled;
Some of us can read the danger signs.
We scream and shout all the way through
To idiots that seem deaf and blind.
In vain we insist of those not too bright
That the leaders should go by the book .
No matter how stupid you think we are
We’re not all as dumb as you look.

You should brew a batch
Of a tea that makes you bright
And if it works the rest of us
Can get some sleep at night
Because whatever tea you drink
As you plow your awful road
Is making you a truly lethal kind
Of hairy, ugly poisonous toad.

Tea for the Trumperman
For him and his bund.
Pay for it all with our
Stolen pension fund.
Make special batches
For him and his cronies
Look them up under the tab
High treason and phonies.

Maybe drink the kind of tea
That hippies still smoke
It might make you think
You are a bit less of a joke
But it won't ever make you
Less of a fool than you are;
The highly lethal driver
Of the Republican clown car.

Another kind of tea please
For those who called this fool a ****,
But this time make this batch
Of primo quality hemlock.
The best way is to tell all
Those dim Trumpster finks
This is precisely what der Fuhrer drinks.

Tea for the Trumperman
For him and his bund.
Pay for it all with our
Stolen pension fund.
Make special batches
For him and his cronies
Look them up under the tab
High treason and phonies.

You made excuses and ruses
And egregious misuses
Of all we hold sacred;
You misplayed it to the hilt
Until you almost killed
Almost all of us with lies.
So many were unwise
And fell for each guise
Every smiling mask
And gave them what they asked
So they could bask in false glory.

We didn’t notice our story
Did not match the tale as told
And before the ink could grow old
Each criminal prophet grew more bold
And, changing the names of blessings
They continued messing around
Until our Constitution was on the ground
Trampled in the dirt by those
Who cannot ever be hurt.

Because they bribe those of us
Who have missed the bus
Somewhere back in elementary school
When they didn’t play by the rules
And we didn’t learn what cheating looked like;
Didn’t tell the cheats to take a hike
And let us get on with making better
The world they were destroying by the letter
Just as they tore up the words
Of those who started us all and heard
Our voices of blood and pain.
They are greedy enough to want us to fail again.

One quarter Dumplets
One quarter aware
One quarter lazy fools
One quarter don't care
A huge percentage of voters
Pay little attention to facts.
We know that because we see
They ignore the way Trump acts.

They have a list of lies they say
To excuse their lack of civic pride.
That includes that **** in Washington
Inviting the enemy to come inside
And collect vital intelligence
Denied to the average voting man.
And that's how the current clown car
And this disgusting circus began.

This should lead to World War III
And/or our nation's destruction.
Our current batch of Republicans
Failed to follow instructions.
Either way the average person
Will need to search through the garbage
To make some kind of living from
What is left after the carnage.

There will be no school or clinics
To take your kids or your ailments to.
If you let them change the constitution
There won't be a thing that you can do.
And the only outcome that will be certain
After we are mashed into the dirt
Is that no one who caused the problems
Will suffer even a minute of hurt.

Don’t bring your Bible
To convince me of your choice.
Pick another atheist.
Because this one came with a voice.
This one came with something
That I choose to call a mind.
I don’t like walking around
Intellectually deaf and blind.

Don’t bother telling me what a
Four thousand year old man said.
He either never really existed
Or he is many millennia dead.
I dig that you are reaching for
Some answers as to how and why
And you prefer the old tales
About a big dude in the sky.

But the second round of magic
About walking on water and things
Is far less exciting than tales of
Dragons trolls and magic rings
Since all of those wild yarns
Don’t claim to be true stories
And don’t ask us to blindly believe
And hope for only heavenly glory.

Many decades ago I stopped
Believing in superstitious twaddle.
In stead of some tasteless wafers
I much prefer a decent waffle.
If the contradictory book you sell
Is any clue as to lifelong serenity,
Half of what the preachers say
Is nothing but pure duplicity.

Don’t bother telling me what a
Four thousand year old man said.
He either never really existed
Or he is many millennia dead.
I dig that you are reaching for
Some answers as to how and why
And you prefer the old tales
About a big dude in the sky.

Did you eve know
A teeny weeny meany;
Who alway carried a grudge?
He let his physique
Turn him away from fun
And so he refused to budge.
It’s like his body
Totally resided in just
That one small patch of his skin.
He sang that tune
To himself, in his own mind,
Words and music, again and again.

Don’t hang around with size queens!
They never have made much sense.
They don’t have your heart in mind.
Their minds need a really good rinse.
People should love you only because
For yourself in and out of bed.
If the important thing is **** size
There’s not much going on in their heads.

There really are people
Who don't care about feelings
Who will only go after one thing.
Flip them some coin
And say them when they mature
They should use the money give you a ring.
If they haven’t learned
To use their minUscule minds
That everybody has some worth.
Then they are the fools,
Probably won’t ever change,
And you are the salt of the earth.

My daddy wants Republicans
Standing in a line
Then ship them all to Moscow
That would be just fine.
Then after all is said and done
There shouldn't be any fuss
Since that is exactly what
They want to do to us.

They can try graft and corruption
In any foreign war zone;
Dead, like they wish our youth
They'll leave us all alone.
It never seemed a good idea
All this war and death and hate
But Republicans love it all so much
It is their fitting fate.

So Dad wishes all Republicans should
Be put in a big ugly ship.
He's fine with them being gone forever
And wishes them a speedy trip.
So adios all you Republicans
We're sick of all your messing.
Go away and stay away.
You have my father's blessing.

Ain’t no blacks going to heaven
And none of them Godless Jews.
Only real white folks are going.
Let me tell you the real news.
And them A-rabs, just forget it
That’s just not going to happen.
Shouldn’t line up on judgment day;
I’ll go down the line and slap ‘em.

It says right there in the Bible
How the good people are all white.
The rest are not really quite human
Heaven just ain’t for them, right?
You wouldn't you want your daughter
Or your son to breed with them?
You can tell just by looking
Intermarriage would be sin.

And we’re talking about looks
Sometimes that doesn’t work
Because some Godless whites are
some kind of non-Christian jerks.
And queers, let’s don’t forget them
With their disgusting abominable ways.
They will be left behind too
In those beautiful final days.

My Father is waiting in heaven
Where only the white and good go;
Gonna to be nobody but Christians
When Gabriel’s horn will blow.
Because My Father is God of Love
Of all creatures great and small
But he ain’t go no use for heathens
And no love for them at all.

And if some of you have children
That don’t get washed in the blood
Then all your praying and crying
Won’t do much of any good.
Sorry, but the rest of you lose
And it’s all quite out of my hands.
So, go ahead and pray to my Father
He’ll be sad, but he’ll understand.

Staggery lop-legged, dordeedor.
Loopy and goofy, you silly billy.
The kind of clown you can’t ignore.
Flinging arms around ***** nilly.

You could always make me laugh
With some silly way you would talk
And bust me up even further with
One of many kinds of goofy walks.

Hardy har har, giggly snort.
Made me laugh; a comic relief.
No, not even a last resort
Honey, you're funny, beyond belief.

Yeah, you know when to be
As serious as is required
But you know how to get me.
It’s just the way you’re wired.

Nobody needs to ever imply
Your goofy act is a crime.
To me it was always funny,
It was remarkably sublime.

Nobody better tell you that
It’s some kind of disgrace.
I’ll tell them off viciously
And right to their face.

I don’t want to hear any of
A disparaging kind of talk.
I laugh and love you even because
Of your hilarious silly walk!

I was a boy of dreams and songs
And hopes of fine tomorrows
Before someone robbed my joys
And left me all this sorrow.
I believed in people and trust
And had it all taken away from me
And it was all done with lies
That spoke to me so lovingly.

The boy turned into a man
In just that one sad evening
When expectations became
The frost of no longer believing.
There were words and scowling
But mostly on my own part
Because it was obvious then
There was no love in your heart.

How could I know back then
That such people existed?
I would have had a day of fun
And everything else resisted.
I would have looked at you
As a face on a passing train
And never cared if either of us
Ever saw each other again.

But you came to me with words
All polished as smooth as stone
And convinced me, in my youth,
That they were for me alone.
I don’t pretend to understand
How people can be so cruel.
I just see now how my innocence
Was the perfect kind of fuel.

The flame that I felt burning
Was some kind of fantasy
That you wove just for fun
With no relation to reality.
But such is life, I move on
And learn to take my time
To see who is a criminal
And whose care is genuine.

This nation is in Fool School
Taking all the classes
Taught by a clique of nearly
Brainless evil *****.
Making up the facts, they do
Exactly what they're told.
They’re replacing our integrity
With lies they are sold.

Do you believe in equal rights
And children who are fed?
The monsters in charge all say
You’re crazy in the head.
You’re so in love with nonsense
You fill your empty heads
With play-pretend broadcasts
Of what the top cats said.

Did you want to go and vote?
Maybe, maybe not.
Possibly this next election time
Freedom's no longer hot.
These days things are changing.
It all depends on luck
And what the ruling class believes
And who spent enough bucks.

The Dean and faculty now
Of the current Fool School class
Doesn’t really give a ****
If we fall on our ***.
They’ll take the country with us
And sell it to those who hate us
While the Dean always does his best
To openly denigrate us.

What kind of person is it who
Pays for his own execution;
Chooses those who caused the mess
Begs them for a solution,
Then whines about small things
While ignoring bombs and guns
That are about to blow the world apart
That's what Fool School has done.

You didn't learn from Reagan
You didn't learn from Dubya
And you will not learn from Trump
And his minions and what have you.
Instead, like  a drunken *****
You search for some magic pill
That we can take and instantly
Cure all our country’s various ills.

You let in a multiple bankrupter
Then call him economic genius.
You ignored all his many sins,
You labeled the villain mischievous.
You joined in on the scary throng
Of misguided and rented people who
Bought that the best candidate
With experience was totally wrong.

Picking the flashy sideshow MAN
With all his flash was just human
But there really was no intelligence
In sidelining a talented woman.
They made a tiny side issue
A hyper-important kind of thing
When all the RepublCAN’TS wanted
Was to hear the sound “KACHING”

The biggest tragedy in the tale
Remains what is happening to us
Because quietly and continuously
And without that much fuss
Republicrooks are pilfering
The rights that used to be yours
While you chant slogans and *****
And blame it all on Obama of course.

There is a major shortage
Especially in southern latitudes
That creates an insufficiency
Of any proportionate gratitude.
They don’t realize down there
That the 1970s gay rights fuss
Let issues of personal freedom
Come in from the back of the bus.

These noisy not-very-Christians
Should be standing up to cheer
Instead of ******* and moaning
Over copious bottles of beer
Because all of us are different
In many different secret ways
And if all their secrets came out
Their friends would be amazed.

The difference is that those,
The ‘be Godly on Sunday’ folks
Would be the sad punchlines of
Some fairly disgusting jokes.
The reason they are not making
******* look much more tame
Is they seldom admit out loud
And give their peccadilloes names.

They scoff at those born gay
And point their fingers at us
And use their faulty logic to
Pompously try to combat us.
It takes those of us who stand,
Who fit the profile of the plucky
To try to get across the point;
Bigots should think themselves lucky.

It’s a wonder that the news today
Of the gropers and the whorehounds
Those jerks elected to high office
Think they stand on moral ground
While many reverends are molesting
Blackmailing, cheating and conniving
And yet of hypocrisy by the righteous
News virtually never stops arriving.

Could it be that it is too much for them
To keep this self-righteous stance
Of watching those demanding freedom
And still looking at them askance?
Wouldn’t it be better if they all
Did what their pal Jesus really said
And get what the revivalist untutored
Greedy church liars out of their head?

There is really nothing
A Southern boy can do
If the one he loves
Is a Southern boy too.
I’m lower than a crook
Never welcome here.
But it’s a chance I took
Because I am a queer.

We played all the roles
Like we were normal guys.
For the most part we did so
Since honesty was not wise.
Straight Southern boys
Live a life of total fear
That someone might think
One of them is queer.

We were both athletes
So, it was easy to hide.
We knew we were in love
But we hid it all inside.
The mindset in the South
is all about Lord Jesus
Southern gay boys don’t ever
Get to do whatever pleases.

Down South the rule is
Who you are doesn’t matter
But if you quote scripture
You can be as mad as a hatter.
So perfectly healthy gays
Each new Southern generation
Is forced to act as if they were
Still living on the plantation.

The only hope for gays
Beneath the Mason-Dixon line
To move up north somewhere
And that will be just fine.
That will bring the idea of gays
Quietly to a proper end
And then the South can be pure
Just like God wants it again.

My country does not believe in equality.
It buys excuses for elitism and misogyny.
It covers up its greed and its brutality
And makes up ugly labels for decency.

My country sings its songs about freedom
But often denies it to those who need some.
It celebrates our heritage with beer and ***
And marches to the beat of a fascist drum.

My country was founded by nice words
Some of the finest man has ever heard.
Then shows the intelligence of a cattle herd;
And the social conscience of rotted bean curd.

My country labors under some illusions
That contribute to a national delusion
That fame will ultimately cure all contusions
And eradicate the effects of collusion.

My country thinks pretty people are sacrosanct
So, they let the beautiful load up their piggy bank.
We see reverence for the most egregious crank,
And have many of our countrymen to thank.

My country isn’t very good at followup.
It adopted the behavior of an untrained pup.
As long as it has its favorite pablum to sup
It will drink any poison that’s in their cup.

My country is this way, has been for too long
And if you disagree with the words of my song
Write your own treatise to try to prove me wrong.
For now I will keep on banging this protest gong.

He was just fourteen
When he ran away
He couldn’t take it
For even one more day.
His mom just ignored him
Dad watched football games.
They talked behind his back
About who they should blame.

You gotta be the way
We think you should be.
Never be like you
Always be like me.
Butch it up in public
Change the way you walk.
If you can’t do that
Just shut up, don’t talk.

He was teased about his name
And teased about his size.
He had a kind of stutter.
They didn’t think him wise.
He was kind and polite and
Had a soft pleasant voice
So, the jerks in the crowd said
He was one of the gay boys.

The problem was he wasn’t
What any of them thought.
He was straight and he was shy
But what his manner brought
Was constant stereotyping
Based on bad parenting
Both at home and at school
Never quite relenting.

You gotta be the way
We think you should be.
Never be like you
Always be like me.
Butch it up in public
Change the way you walk.
If you can’t do that
Just shut up, don’t talk.

So Rodney ran away
And lived out on the street
Taking charity from those
Runaways always meet.
Now Rodney’s in jail
In the hospital ward.
His leap for freedom
Had some bad rewards.

You gotta be the way
We think you should be.
Never be like you
Always be like me.
Butch it up in public
Change the way you walk.
If you can’t do that
Just shut up, don’t talk.

We marched because
They told us we couldn’t march.
We loved because
They told us we couldn’t love.
We married because
They told us we couldn’t marry.
We ran for office because
They told us we couldn’t run.

Freedom is for everyone
Not just for the few.
If any group is left out
The word is not true.

We applied for jobs
When they said we could not
We applied for loans
But they tore up the applications.
We manned picket lines
When they said they’d **** us.
We put in for promotions
When they told us we wouldn't win.

Freedom being for everyone
Should not be a dream.
We should not have to explain
Why things aren’t as they seem.

We heard the words
That said Land of the free,
We heard the carols
Peace on earth to all men.
We read the Constitution
That we all of us were equal.
We remembered our schoolwork
That, segregated, taught these words.

Freedom is for everyone
Not just for the few.
If any group is left out
The word is not true.

My first friend was a big dog
A great big beautiful boxer.
His name was Duke; he loved me
Seemed prepared to stay forever,
Protecting me from any and all
In our house of anger and noise.
Two careless adults lived there
And no other girls or boys.

There was just the three of us;
I, the first child, and damaged,
Whose infancy was one of abuse,
Whose trust had been ravaged.
A child naturally cries sometimes
And irritates a self-centered dad
He can approach and gesture
And convince the dog he is mad.

Beloved friend, center of my world
Was gone from me the very next day.
Until I was an older child I was told
Dad raged then he took Duke away.
Duke didn’t know, nor did dad
That on that sad and scary day
Dad took not only my doggie friend
But he took trust in my dad away.

Duke was only doing his job, but
Dad saw it as a protective stance.
When that dog growled at him
He **** near peed in his pants.
“I won’t have a dog that threatens
Living in my own house with me!”
I know after living decades at home
What was threatened was dad’s authority.

I used to be lysexic
But I’m betting getter.
I sometimes get letters
All gangled up totether.
I often lose tontrol
Of the taction of my ung
I had this tind of krubble
Sever yince I was sung.

I backed things saidward
It muzz wore than embarrassing.
It got me picked lot upon
Subjected to hate grarrassing.
Sometimes wumbers nould
Lood just like wetters
Back when I was lysdexic
But I am betting getter.

Not just lysdexic am me
But I Spoonerise tum soo.
And unce that sets started
There is lo sittle I can do.
It get’s ard to understand me
And it isses some eeple poff
I really bish I could weegin
To **** to stalk like a toff.

I used to be lysexic
But I’m betting getter.
I sometimes get letters
All gangled up totether.
I often lose tontrol
Of the taction of my ung
I had this kind of rubble
Sever yince I was sung.

He left home for a very good reason
But no one ever asked him why.
Nobody questioned the bruises
Nobody ever even tried.
The neighbors ignored the noises
Of a child screaming in agony.
The urban equivalent of caring
Is universally applied apathy.

Shut up kid, the adults are talking;
You’re to be seen and never heard.
Keep you complaints to yourself.
Don’t say another word.

The teachers saw the marks
And noticed the change in mood.
They brought it up to the school
But they didn’t want to be sued.
Why didn’t the teacher call
And tell this to the police?
Because the school said, out front
If the teacher would face release.

Whenever there is a conflict between
A child’s welfare and peace
The school district will always choose
To make their employee cease
And desist making waves at work
And subjecting the board to scorn.
It isn’t their fault that so many
Bad kids go get themselves born.

Shut up kid, the adults are talking;
You’re to be seen and never heard.
Keep you complaints to yourself.
Don’t say another word.

Later everyone will have to pretend
That they never knew a thing.
That they thought the kid was wrong
Or that the kid was simply lying.
After all, the kids don’t matter much
They cost a lot and do not vote.
So every complaint they ever make
Is treated like as a sour note.

I’m gliding, not fighting
As I enter later years.
I’m skating, not debating
As I face my aging fears.
I see what I was afraid of
Were just phantasms only.
They leave too many scared
With talk of being lonely.

Go away with bearboo talk.
Nobody is frighted here.
It’s just another day for me
It’s nothing but another year!
Age is not the bogeyman
It comes along with the ride.
It’s part of what made my life
It’s proof that I have tried.

**** and chest swapped places
My hair is wandering south.
All that goes very swiftly
Is my energy and my mouth.
Everything is changing now
I am not a kid any more.
I spend time in pharmacy aisles
More than the rest of the store.

But none of this unexpected.
I watched others go through it.
It’s not like it was ever a secret.
No mystery. I totally knew it.
So I plan to celebrate this stage
Which means I must slow down
And take things as they come
No reason to whine, cry or frown.

I couldn’t tell my mother
That I had kissed a sailor.
She wouldn’t understand;
I’d feel the force of her hand.
My father would concur
He’d stand beside her
They’d both call me names
And give me all the blame
Because surely I knew
That’s not what I should do.

And though I still feel today
They knew no other way
I told myself they never knew
That what I was feeling was true.
It was an emotion stronger
And powerful and lasting longer
Than a whim or a fleeting crush.
A moment that made the world hush.
They saw it as a cause to grieve
And I saw it as something to believe.

That love was real and had power
To stretch a moment into an hour
Then the hour into a lovely week
That shows you what you seek
And teaches you what you deserve
If you simply act and have the nerve
To be who you are and be proud.
Look them in the eye and be proud.
Tell them you are sorry they’re upset;
You will love who you will with no regret.

He’s the meanest kid on the block
His head is made of solid rock
He is no good at all
His morals are too small
And I want to give him a good hard sock.

Can’t trust him past where you can throw him
Your mind hurts just because you know him.
There’s not much he’s good for
A class-A notorious bore.
A waste of the cost it took to grow him.

I’d tell you that he is homely
But that would not be only
The one thing that makes him bad.
He seldom keeps his word
And everything you have heard
About him should make you sad.

He’s a gold-plated, two-****** tinhorn
He knows how to steal with both hands.
He’s never acted right
Even when asleep at night;
He’s the kind of creep nobody understands.

His pants very rightly should be on fire
Because he is just that kind of a liar.
He really loves to boast.
It’s the thing he loves the most.
Bragging is the object of his desire.

Listening to him causes dread
Like a nail going through my head
Because I know he doesn’t care about us.
We’re just creatures he will use
Then leave us without our shoes
Mistaking brains for being devious.

Oh, the joys of the life of a cowboy
Just a few men and horses.
No worry about traffic and crowds
No alimony, no divorces.
Looking around at those strong fellows
In their skin-tight denim pants.
Surely they might look around at them
And ask one of them to dance.

Cowboys seem to like to ride the range
I’d ride the ranger instead;
Show him just how much can be arranged
By two men in a bunk bed.
There’d be an especially nice reward
At the end of a long ride.
The is not a doubt in my mind at all
That he would be satisfied.

After a career of bouncing and bucking
Surely he can take a bit more.
I would do my absolute best to be sure
That he would not end up sore.
Well, at least not in the usual places;
The kind that bows his thighs.
And if he is not that good at it at first
I’ll gladly give him more tries.

Oh the joys of the life of a cowboy
Just a few men and horses.
No worry about traffic and crowds
No alimony, no divorces.
Looking around at those strong fellows
In their skin-tight denim pants.
Surely they might look around at them
And ask one of them to dance.

Those folks who think this is too offensive,
Guys think of cheerleaders instead.
Gals think of watching sport figures at play
And ***** things you do in your head.
There’s not really all that much difference;
It’s all a salacious fantasy.
I don’t begrudge you those hot steamy dreams
I won’t let you deny to of me.

Oh the joys of the life of a cowboy
Just a few men and horses.
No worry about traffic and crowds
No alimony, no divorces.
Looking around at those strong fellows
In their skin-tight denim pants.
Surely they might look around at them
And ask one of them to dance.

And for those of you who don’t
Find Trump to be pernicious,
He shows his *** to one and all,
I hope you find it is delicious.
For those of you who lived in
Dream castles of foolish hope
You have backed an evil man
A charlatan and a dope.

If you tried hard and long
You could not have done worse
And that is the reason for
This neener neener verse.
I can’t think how he could
Have warned you any better.
He promised things intelligence
Could discredit by the letter.

He said he would do stuff
So totally unconstitutional,
That made the rich richer,
And proved you were delusional
To trust a total ripoff guy
Who has been cheating for years.
Why did you think this fool
Would allay any of your fears?

But still you all waved high
His stupid Chinese-made hats;
Bought him gold and diamond studs
For his brand new fancy spats.
And now he’s in the Capitol
Laughing at all of you dolts
YOU gave him weapons to use on you
Instead of a thousand volts.

If you want flowery poetry
Hit pause, backspace delete.
I write on a lot of subjects;
Only a few could be called sweet.
I’m not into swirling windstorms
Or describing billowy clouds.
Not into extolling autumn leaves
Or conifers standing proud.

I try to select the human things
Whether good or even bad.
Sometimes I wrestle with
Life twists that make us sad.
I try to speak for everyman
And that includes the women.
I try to reflect life circumstances
And the results the travel with them.

So, crooning polysyllabically
Is seldom my favorite tune,
Nor is waxing limerickally
About June, and spoon and moon.
Instead I’ll probably take to task
Those who live in sappy hope
A prince shows up in their life
A proper romantic dope.

I write the rhymes about crooks
That steal from your children
And the supposed leaders
That ****** and abuse women.
I write about parents who
Ignore what their children need
And instead find their joy
On selfishness and greed.

After so many millennia
We really need to stop
Waiting for someone else to come
And be the moral traffic cop.
It is us who need to change
And teach our children accordingly
Because the way we are fixing things
Humanity is progressing dismally.

So keep your butterfly couplets
And views of rain on hedges.
We are falling apart as humans
And it’s visible on the edges.
It will only take a few crazies
With power enough to wield
And this planet, and us of course,
Will no longer have a shield.

You raised them
You should keep them
And pay all their bills;
What you raised spills
Over into the common weal
And fears become real
As they are ignorant
Greedy and mean
Worst we’ve ever seen
And no hope of salvation
From your creation.

Are you afraid of your kid?
Is that what you did;
Let him or her do whatever
And you never told them
What is wisdom or whim?
Let them do what they please
As long as they don’t sneeze
In church or belch loudly
Then you can go on proudly
Bragging about your good child
Until they run totally wild
And get themselves arrested.
Then your lies are bested
And your laziness outed.
No wonder you pouted.

When things go wrong
You want someone to come along
And take care of things
And pay the fines that brings
Because they are sweet, down deep.
Then you go back to sleep
Because life should be easy for you
And the things your kids do
Are not your fault, so back out to buy
More magazines about movie stars
And slobber over newer cars
And ***** about the schools
Not teaching them the rules
And how to pursue them
Then you go out and sue them
For teaching what you do
And not what kids should do.

I hope you understand
Why I do not believe in you.
From the evidence at hand;
The many things you choose not to do.
I’d vilify a human friend
Who told me like you did
Of how you were watching
Then ran away and hid.

Children keep dying
The poor and the weak too
And you still seem to find
No cause to see them through;
To put clothes on the backs
Of those who are in need.
Nor do you strike down
Those who worship greed.

Your followers tell lies
And expect us to believe
And demand we ignore
Those who suffer and grieve
If they are different
From those in power.
Their speeches all the same
It’s never our hour.

It’s always time for tithes
The bribes they demand
But paying back so seldom
Is ever quite at hand.
It’s always time for us to
Have sympathy and charity
But not for the rich and strong.
Where is the parity?

So, if you create everything
And see the falling sparrow
Why are you deaf so often
Your vision so **** narrow?
It’s been thousands of years
Since your supposed first night.
When will you fix things
And set your world aright?

Could it be, as I always say
That you really don’t exist?
I see no reason to believe,
Thus I must insist;
There cannot be a loving god
Unless he is one of many.
Either way, I fail to see
The proof that we have any.

Stinky and Hinky
Both egregious pigs
Set out to **** us all;
They don't care a fig
If all of us starve to death
As long as they get rich.
Stinky and Hinky
Each a venal summabitch!

Stinky hired Hinky
Two minds, one sewer.
Stinky had no talent
But Hinky was newer.
Many people doubted
That either had a chance
But over half the voters
Chose to skip the dance.

So we got two reprobates
With no regard for us.
So, without much fanfare
And no legitimate fuss
The country got overrun
Crooks got left in office.
Now they all are setting out
To, once and for all, off us.

Stinky is a *****
And Hinky is a bigot.
They crap on the Constitution.
And expect us all to dig it.
Stinky uses the USA
As his personal ATM.
Hinky is just evil.
We’ve had enough of him.