(Warning: this poem is not for the religiously inclined.)

For centuries, entrepreneurs
Have been selling slivers
Of the True Cross of Jesus
Promising how much it delivers.
Of course, if they were any part
Of the real True Cross at all
The weight of all that wood means
The cross was thirty feet tall.

Still, it is only meant to be
A symbol of The Son Of God
Who got murdered and transformed
Into a deity, but that's odd.
It’s like all the Romans making
A ****** dagger their sign
Of the purity of Julius Caesar;
Revered if not quite divine.

Or maybe worshipping the bullet
That killed Kennedy or King.
Are we sure that kind of devotion
Is the right way to the right thing?
But fonts full of holy water did
The trick for many centuries.
So, maybe the faithful don’t care
About ecumenical vagaries.

Yet I don’t hold much hope out
For businesses of spirituality
Who put up golden castles
In zones of the most abject poverty.
Anyone who thinks a god
Needs to look down on glitz
Promises not much more
Than a dogma from the pits.

We need to celebrate what we have
And not so much what is lost.
What has all the jewels and gold
And superstition added to the cost?
I prefer to keep my integrity and
Check out who’s the real boss.
Knowing that it might upset those
Who get weepy about a cross.

My girlfriend won’t canoodle.
I’M not sure what’s amiss.
She refuses to even cuddle
And slaps me when I kiss.
She pulls away from me when
I try to cradle her in my arm.
It’s like she thinks I am a creep
Who intends to cause her harm.

Once I thought she was shy
Because she avoided my eyes.
Now I think she it is because
She’d rather I didn’t try.
I'D catch a look on her face
That goes away almost never.
I can’t just keep buying her things
Well, at least, not forever.

When we go out together
She tends to hide her face.
I have noticed she walks fast
And I almost have to race
To manage to walk beside
And  not fall too far behind.
I think if I just went home
She really wouldn’t mind.

I may have started with her
With the wrong tactics.
It’s just that pretty women do
Tend to turn me into a fanatic.
So I let her have her way
Did everything she wanted,
As long as our relationship
Was never overtly flaunted.

I guess I am such a wimp
That takes too long to see
That what was wrong was her,
And was never really me.
I’ve never known what’s wrong
I’ve done everything I can.
I didn’t even break up with her
When I discovered she’s a man.

I’d sing to you soft songs
If you walked along with me
By the sea, harmonizing;
Eulogizing each wave before,
Ignoring the temptation
For libations and viands.
The sands would demand
As hand in hand we stroll
And roll with the moment,
The foment feet way
At the end of this day.

I’d revel this all with you
New waves making lights
That night tries to hide
While inside we create
The greatest love and joys
Toys for the fates, caress
And dress us as royalty.
Loyalty and gratitude transform
As we form into a pair.
The wind ruffles our hair.

But clouds don’t talk out loud
And tell you all this about me,
Or rout me out of my dream
Not as real as they seem to be
These illusions often delight me
But rightly, dissipate in the breeze
Then, on my knees, I pray
There will be another day
That is just like this one
That has just begun.
Until then, I thank my luck
That what a buck can’t buy
Has just passed me by
Bringing good fortune
And a clear sky
To weary eyes.

I’d revel this all with you
New waves making lights
That night tries to hide
While inside we create
The greatest love and joys
Toys for the fates, caress
And dress us as royalty.
Loyalty and gratitude transform
As we form into a pair.
The wind ruffles our hair.

The ringing of a telephone
A simple knock when I’m alone.
Someone just calling my name
And screaming seem the same.
A loud noise when I am sleeping,
Someone throwing open my door,
A car backfiring close by home,
The sounds of steps across the floor.

These are the normal sounds
The symphony of people living.
These sounds don’t normally
Carry terror along with the giving
Like someone living in a war zone
A place with mass invading troops.
They are isolated common things
Unless they arrive in huge groups.

Yet these things still bring me
A painful pounding in my heart
And it goes on for too long
From the moment it starts.
It is the gift of abandonment
Of childhood neglect and abuse
And is viewed by most adults
As ridiculous and abstruse.

But many survivors of childhood
Of threat and pain and fear
Will tell you the horror remains
After the passage of many years.
It has to do with the inner self
Being robbed of a basic trust
Of life itself by their care givers,
By God himself, if you must.

Because there feels a solid knowing
That truly, deep inside the child
There is nobody to save them
From creatures near and wild.
Nobody will come to rescue us
When the bad things come to bite
And everybody knows they come
In the deepest part of the night.

Why are you shouting out loud?
Are you saying I am too proud?
Do you think I am undeserving?
If so, it is completely unnerving
That you don’t want me to own
What you see as yours alone;
A sense of dignity and hope.
You must see me as a dope
Who can’t see you getting rich.
You are one shallow sonofabitch
If you think just calling me villain
Will somehow make me willing
To give up my own free voice
So that only you have a choice
About how much I will make
And which decisions I take
About my own home and body.
Can you really be that shoddy?

Well, yes, I have learned you are.
You think you are a superstar
And are immune to decency
That your star is in ascendency.
Well, I really hope that it is not
And that your tail gets caught
In the door before it slams
And we see the last of your scams
And your nepotistic buddy deals
And get back to what is real
And proper for our poor nation
Instead of graft and intimidation
That makes wealth for a few.
Nothing for me, all for you.

Little Po’ Beep was fast asleep
When poverty came and found her;
She never quite saw
The Republican laws
Crash all her hopes around her.
The Beep's favorite daughter
Felt that she oughta
Be able to salvage a bit
Of the life she had
Before things went mad
And went reeling to hell from the hit.

Little Po’ Beep felt the cost was too steep
For taking a nap when she’s tired.
She truly believed
At least a few of the thieves
Needed to be indicted and fired.
She would gladly affect
A wring of the neck
Of the jerks in Washington who ground her
Like so much cheap meat
Starving dogs wouldn’t eat
No help from the dumb peers around her.

Little Po’ Beep wished she could learn
Some way she could turn
The slick words from Congress against them.
She’d take all their assets
And kick them where they sat
Then show them some tar and some feathers.
She’d set up a rail
Outside of the jail
And ride them from town in bad weather.

When I dream
I find myself in places
I never go to awake
Taking chances
I never take
For fear I will break
Or stumble.

So instead I grumble
That I never go anywhere
And let myself scare myself
Out of doing what I need
To do in order to be true
To the person I am
When I am awake.

I fully flimflam and take
The easy, the coward’s road.
I hop away like a toad
Then whine to myself
In my dreams.

It seems ineffective.
But it seems inelective.
It’s like I have no choice
But I still listen
To my sleeping voice.

Someday I may stop
And drop this bad habit,
Choosing to have it my way;
Me on the highway, walking
Instead of lying in bed talking
About how good it could be
If I were the dreaming me.

I just want five hundred grand
Is that too much for me to ask?
It is a lot. Probably too much.
But I am prepared for the task
Of spending that much dough.
I have it completely planned out.
I know where every dollar goes.
It’s all over but the last shout.

Right away, I want a house
And a decent one here on Kauai.
I also want a brand new truck
For my husband to drive and try.
I also have a few trips to plan
Like floating down the Rhine
And then up by train to Denali
That would suit us both just fine.

That ought to do it, I believe;
A secure home all paid for
And decent new cars for us
And a world out there to explore.
That should spend that money
And have a bit of change left over.
Satisfying the homebody I am
And the man I married is a rover.

I am very willing to write a book
And have it sell a million copies.
I have several started and am sure
They would each be a hit in shoppes.
There can be about eight books
Carefully edited by me, for sure
Those alone should make my rep.
That would be my poverty cure.

I can’t watch the news anymore
That ugly orange man is a bore
And a pompous *** and a ****.
Him in charge? That’ll never work.
We are in such trouble, so deep
It’s a wonder any of us can sleep.
I find myself in a constant depression.
It’s like Americans didn’t learn the lesson
In the last of several pointless wars.
We were all taught now and before
When we sent our young off to die
And we weren’t even really sure why.

We brought many of them back in bags
Left the living in dumps and rags
Because we stopped acting like better men
In taking care of our sacrificed veterans.
And did we invest the money wisely instead?
No we chose to obscenely feather the beds
Of people who were never under threat
And we haven’t wised up. No, not yet.
We keep on throwing good toward evil.
Like feeding cotton fields to boll weevils
We elect criminals without recompense.
So little leadership today makes sense.

The land we live in today is so strange.
Right and wrong have been rearranged.
We are lied to and we cheer them on
Until almost all our rights are gone,
Make heroes out of thieves and crooks
Mostly based on fame and their looks.
Half of us don’t even know the issues.
The rest of us reach for the tissues.
Our only solid hope was for us to vote
The sad thing is we’re in the same boat
And no matter what the right is thinking
Our sick national boat is quickly sinking.

Costume clowns
And closet clones
Clutter up my world.
Simulated simians,
Both boys and girls,
Ricochet like rifle shots
In the hallways of my dreams.
Honeyed hectoring
Always more than it seems.

Missing messages
And mumbled grumbling,
I find it quite humbling
That my rhetoric is glistening
To discover nobody is listening.
But be assured, at its root
Disdain will not make me mute.

Despite the confusion
Created by collusion,
And the babble of rabble
That grapple inside my brain
What will remain after
This noisy war is done,
It will definitely be won.
The race will be run
Because I am number one!

I cry beware, there's danger there,
But nobody is listening.
I raise my voice and twist my face.
There are tears glistening.
I can see it coming like an ugly beast.
Why the hell can't they smell it at least?
This is going to be like a four-year tsunami,
But sadly, one that won't go away.

All the things we know to be destructive
Are waiting in the wings.
The freedom of us and our nation
May not survive this thing.
While promises of greatness resonate
The putrid smell of recent history
So impatiently waits the doom
While fools bemoan their misery.

The train wreck of modern life
Reverberates in the ears of the wise
And distractions abound in media
While lies are waved before the eyes
Of those loo lazy to leave the couch
To vote or attend meetings or speak;
To stand up for the rights they have
Or find the peace they say they seek.

The national criminals are thrilled
Meanwhile, we are trained to wail
And call evil names about trivia;
About things like someone’s email
And who stands or sits at a game,
Or who is fornicating with who
While, for some, there is nothing
Too immoral some other person can do.

Evil colluders,
Robbers and looters
Claiming they're patriots too.
Hiding from tax.
And Wielding their axe,
Chopping down people like you.

Nothing is out of bounds
Burn freedom to the ground.
Let it all rot
They all say “why not”?
They don’t think we’re people
Banks are their church steeple.

Decades of cheating
Leaving us bleeding
And then they laugh at us too
Put it together
And what have we got?
A rabbity, rascally crew.

Nothing is out of bounds
Burn freedom to the ground.
Let it all rot
They all say “why not”?
They don’t think we’re people
Banks are their church steeple.

Radical fools,
Political tools,
Legions of idiots too.
Put them together
And what have you got?
Republican dillweeds is who.

Nothing is out of bounds
Burn freedom to the ground.
Let it all rot
They all say “why not”?
They don’t think we’re people
Banks are their church steeple.

The Talking **** is babbling
He’s not quite capable of reason.
He’s busy patting his own back
Every day, every month and season.
The Talking **** is assuming
As usual that we can’t think.
But we know for a certainty
That a talking **** still stinks.

The Talking **** is promising
All the miracles he will perform.
He’ll take credit from others
After all, that’s his norm.
He’ll put down the good efforts
Of those who came before
Who actually did the good work
While he worked on his golf score.

The Talking **** is not required
To make very much good sense.
He has his Nazis beside him
And a crowd of the politically dense.
He says what he knows pleases
Those who are not quite bright.
He chants the hateful dogma
Adopted by fools on The Right.

She sits in her room
Beside her lonely loom
And dreams of times of grace
And suitors come to her place.
But no one has come here,
So she sings the songs
Of being alone too long.

None will come so near
That she needs to flirt.
Instead she gathers her hurt
And weaves it into tapestries
Of such stunning majesty
That only she will applaud,
Because there is no god
That will transform her to be
A lady of famous beauty.

She never has known why
She was born forbiddingly shy.
She fears to speak and convince,
Always she is prone to wince
Instead of smiling and inviting.
Her lovely pale face whitening
With dread she cannot speak
And that makes her feel weak.

The sun rises and it sets
She has nothing to regret
Or to remember gladly
But sadly she has grown
Comfortable being alone
Since  the pain is remembered
And she never delivered
From the roaring noise
Of life without love’s joys.

You are a 2017 conservative?
And proud.
A dedicated believer in Jesus?
I say it loud!
You believe in the Constitution?
As far as it goes.
Is there something wrong with it?
Every Conservative knows.

What would you change if you could?
We’d throw out foreigners.
But weren't all Caucasians foreigners once.
Don’t be a dunce.
But, we were. We came from Europe.
That’s just an excuse.
You doubt what I just said to you?
No, but it’s a ruse.

In what way is what I asked a ruse?
It doesn’t fit the issue.
So, equality for everyone is no good?
It’s as thin as tissue.
There are people who are less deserving?
You **** right.
Like who? (I find this all most unnerving.)
Anyone who isn’t white!

So, just the white people in our land?
You got it now.
Doesn’t the Constitution say they are equal?
That’s for those who bow.
Bow to who? Of who do you approve?
Christian Whites, of course!
And the rest can just go die or move?
I’ll say it until I'm hoarse.

It seems that you don’t approve of this country?
Just the government.
But, isn’t it built to serve and protect all of us?
That’s not what they meant!
The founding fathers didn’t mean all of us?
No, they meant Christian Whites!
And what about the rest of us citizens?
You were never supposed to have rights.

So, non-Caucasians are God's only people?
That's what I said.
But Jesus was a Jew, and not a Causasian.
Put that out of your head.
But you wouldn't let him have any rights today?
Jesus would see into my heart.
I wonder if he heard all this, what he would say?
You think you're so smart!

Making excuses
With hundreds of uses
All kinds of ruses
To cover up abuses
By venal national leaders
Upscale liars and cheaters
And well-armed bush-beaters
Feeding the meat-eaters.

The uptight Right
With its narrow eyesight
Calls daytime night
And loves a grudge fight
So, they create enemies
With deceitful homilies
And live up to the parodies
That leave us on our knees.

They ignore the Constitution
And make new resolutions
To offer no real solutions.
To our national destitution.
All that matters is monetary
So, they bribe the constabulary;
Call civil rights revolutionary
And laugh at those they bury.

The point is, make no mistake
These reprobates always take
They never take a break.
They cut nobody a break.
They steal and call it rights
And love it when the poor fight.
And while we sleep at night
They steal even the street lights.

Over the river
And through Grant Woods
Through Hallmark scenes we go.
Through colors of white
That are not quite right
Not even for ******-on snow.

If Currier and Ives
Tends to give you the hives
You really might not want to go.
By now we have cars
And thank your stars
No shoes for the horse to throw.

Old men in jeans
In bucolic scenes
From a hundred years ago.
Don’t be in a rush
As driving through slush
Can cause accidents, you know.

Turkey and dressing
And Parker rolls
May suit the day just fine,
But a warning here
I’ll make it clear
You might not like mulled wine.

When you have eaten
While women work
The men can go off and drink.
The men getting *******
A seasonal disgrace,
The gals keep their minds on the sink.

Later while driving back ,
The men passed out,
The women behind the wheel.
They women all try
To figure out why
They go through this yearly ordeal.

Sometimes I just have to admit it.
Things are happening and I don’t get it.
What the hell is going on here?
Is an explanation from anyone near?
It makes a kind of sense, if you squint
But soon it caroms off on another bent.
I mean, it’s all in my native language, true,
But so much of it feels like visiting a zoo.

My life can turn into a monkey house
And without a decent kind of warning
And suddenly I’m dealing with issues
That weren’t there in the morning.
Some batch of politicians on the right
Are busily trying to steal my serenity
And maybe even trying to imprison me
And at least take away my dignity.

They say they are doing all of this
In the name of holy Jesus Christ
But it still works as a ripping off,
And an indecent but legal heist.
I may not be an attorney myself
But I was also not born last Tuesday.
These rotten scalawags in suits
Are trying to take my rights away.

It makes a kind of sense, if you squint
But soon it caroms off on another bent.
I mean, it’s all in my native language, true,
But so much of it feels like visiting a zoo.

It always amazes me that these jerks
Somehow manage to sleep at night
Because it’s plain enough to see
That what they do really isn’t right.
For example, for two hundred years
It was legal here to own negroes.
But that it was an sickening atrocity
Was as plain as their white nose.

But they held cotillions and soirees
And treated slaves like breeding stock
And sold off the black babies which
Seemed to happen around the clock
Because it made sense to these Christians
To ignore everything that Jesus said
And treat these people barbarically
From their birth until they were dead.

Sometimes I just have to admit it.
Things are happening and I don’t get it.
What the hell is going on here?
Is an explanation from anyone near?

There are plenty of modern references
Like treating immigrants as villains
When every white person in the USA
Were immigrants, most of them willing.
But rich people here are so upset
That these people are not the right kind
And that gives the rich white people
An excuse for them to be rude and unkind.

I could go on and on with this complaint
For pages and chapters without end.
I’m still waiting for someone to tell me
“Enough! We conservatives agree and say 'When!'”

Three thousand children
That have no home.
Three thousand children
Are suffering alone.
Three thousand children
Whose parents suffer
Three thousand children
Missing their mothers.

How many children
Do we now have to feed
When the president said
They’re all bad seeds?
How did these babies
And these adolescent kids
Get accused of what they
Nor their parents ever did?

How can a country that
Brags it’s the land of the free
Perpetuate such a craven
Too ****-like villainy?
It squanders public funds
On bogus personal causes
Then hides it's thievery
Inside twisted legal clauses.

Three thousand babies
Locked up like animals
Inside pens like Dobermans;
And they are the criminals?
Their parents broke laws
That are just misdemeanors
So, they are beaten and then
They’re taken to the cleaners?

Meanwhile their children
Are kidnapped and hidden
By a Justice department that
Does the evil they are bidden.
That this kind of sick behavior
Exists in our country’s name
Is more than just our personal,
It’s also our national shame.

Let’s canoodle, let’s spoon.

Let’s cuddle, let’s squeeze.
It has been too long in between
So, let us do this now, please.

I want to lie down next to you
And feel your heart beat close.
To match the rhythm with mine
And then enjoy it as it slows
And matches with the cadence
Of the heart inside my chest.
Of all the moments in my life
This is the one I love best.

I admit that I’m distracted today
That’s the idea I’ve been noodling.
Having fun with you all alone;
Doing some serious canoodling.
It s a better idea than hiking
Or washing the car or cooking.
We just turn on some cool music
And both of us get to canoodling.

Doing simple math for us,
Like one and one make two.
Means I am one number
And of course, so are you.
We can add up some others
Like one well planed meal.
Later it may seem like a dream
But, I assure you, it will be real.

Let’s canoodle, let’s spoon.

Let’s cuddle, let’s squeeze.
It has been too long in between
So, let us do this now, please.

Wrap up all your games
And take them all away.
They might be fun for you
But I don’t want to play.

Sometimes what we think is luck
It isn’t that at all
It’s a series of bad decisions
That lead us to a fall.
You never seem to grow
Out of this kind of crap.
And smiling while you cheat
Is another kind of trap.

I don’t want to play
Take yourself away
Don’t come back here
Any other day.

You seem to believe
That finding the right words
Means your lies disappear
Like they were never heard.
You never get embarrassed
At the ugly things you do.
But it turns our stomachs
And embarrasses us too.

Wrap up all your games
And take them all away.
They might be fun for you
But I don’t want to play.

It’s almost like a game
You used to play as a kid
Where all of us were meant
To ignore the things you did.
This is not a playground
And we are not in school.
Once it might have been cute
But now you’re just a fool.

I don’t want to play
No matter what you say,
Today or any day.
Find somebody less aware.
I don’t want to play.

Kinda lost, as a matter of fact
No kind of tricks I can use
To help me to recover from
The Watching The News Blues.
There is no way I seem to
Be able to pay enough dues
To help me avoid getting
The Watching The News Blues.

Politicians stuffing ballot boxes
Some senator ****** little boys
Big Pharma raising their prices
The Pentagon buying broken toys.
We fracked another state up
We are invading another country
We’re outlawing people’s rights
The KKK is gains popularity.

I’ve got that kind of blues
From my hairdo to my shoes.
No over-the-counter drugs
That are any good to use.
It does no good to complain.
Everyone just ignores the clues.
They prefer to let us all suffer
The Watching The News Blues.

Big Oil bought out Washington
And then made solar illegal
If you pay enough money, you
Get to shoot an American Eagle.
DC is selling our forests off
And sells arms to both sides
And the average American
Can’t afford a place to reside.

Kinda lost, as a matter of fact
No kind of tricks I can use
To help me to recover from
The Watching The News Blues.
There is no way I seem to
Be able to pay enough dues
To help me avoid getting
The Watching The News Blues.

A long time ago, when we were young
My brother used to be a funny guy.
He could sometimes break me up a bit
Without really ever seeming to try.
So, one day, when he asked a favor;
I could tell because he wasn’t snarling
He batted his eyes like some movie star
And ended saying “Hunchy, lumpy, darling.”

Now all my brothers had Missouri drawls
And, it turns out, they never lost them.
No matter what I or teachers would say
They drawled no matter what it cost them.
They didn’t really have very much regard
Or use for the propriety of the King’s speech.
It’s almost like good grammar and prose
We just a bit too far out of their reach.

So, I wasn’t surprised I failed to understand
This strange request from my young brother.
After all he talked just like relatives, neighbors,
And most of all, sounded “Jess lack his mother”.
But this one time I had to stop and ask him
Would he please repeat what he asked me,
Because for all I was worth, at that moment
His meaning was blithely slipping past me.

His answer, you see, started me right off
On a hunger for rhyming, slang and puns.
My lifelong romance with games and wordplay
Had accidentally, but quite solidly begun.
Because Hunchy, lumpy, darlin’ it seemed
Was saying his way to me, “Honey Child,
Lambie Pie, Darling.” I got it and I screamed.

I laughed and rolled around on the couch
And took it instantly into my grabby brain.
That one little misheard bit of movie-talk fun
Hit me as hilarious and worth saying again.
I’m sure he picked it up from the TV;
Something from a forties comedy movie.
Thinking it was a bit glib, he purloined it
And he was right, I thought it was groovy.

I am autumn and you are spring
If any of this folderol even means a thing.
I’m a Virgo and you are an Aries sprite.
And somehow the combination fits just right.
If I chose tarot cards and you I Ching
That did not make the wedding bells ring.
Whatever the fates had in store for us two
Is exactly what we are dedicated to do.

You threw a coin into the Trevi fountain
We saw the future on a nearby mountain.
We knew we were matched together for life
Happy newlyweds, two husbands, no wife.
After six months asking important questions
We were sure this was the right proposition.
Some people warned us to take a full year
But we read the signs and they were very clear.

We saw or talked to each other every day
Diving into the words we heard the other say.
It was essential that we learned everything;
Who the other really was and would bring
To a lifetime relationship for two individuals
Determined to keep the relationship in the middle.
There seemed to be nothing there to reject;
We were both what we needed, imperfectly perfect.

We were equally determined to stay ourselves
And put the fairy tales on a childhood shelf
And not expect the other one to ever change.
Some people implied to us that idea was strange.
My friends saw traits in him they urged me to stop.
The same was true of him, but we were not cops.
Instead I cherished the person I saw as great.
He did the same so we did not need to wait.

Now, today, it’s twenty eight years of love
As if we had the blessings from above.
It’s like planets aligned and are blessing us
In some kind of personal Age of Aquarius.
We've had to climb over some gnarly spots
But we're more than happy with what we got.
We got a partnership, love that lasted a lifetime.
So, we wanted to share it with you in this rhyme.

If there are angels where you are
Can you ask one of them to come see me?
There are things I want to know
How do I live without you beside me?
Life with you was perfect for us
Now I have no idea what to do with my days.
I didn’t realize how much of me
Depended on you in so many wonderful ways.

Calling all angels.
I really need you here with me.
Guardian angels.
Sometimes I think I need three.
I’ll be here waiting,
Maybe not exactly patiently
But when you get here
I will be grateful as can be.

I know you’re in heaven
You were an angel here on earth
I always felt it;
Not only I knew what you were worth.
You made me stronger
So I have not quite fallen apart
But that is a miracle
Because I have lost half my heart.

Calling all angels.
I really need you here with me.
Guardian angels.
Sometimes I think I need three.
I’ll be here waiting,
Maybe not exactly patiently
But when you get here
I will be grateful as can be.

They gave themselves raises
And the best insurance around.
They’re taking down medicare
To leave us on fallow ground.
They stole from Social Security
Then called it an entitlement
And plan to steal it all from us
And call it good management.

Pull up your heads
And look around.
They’re stealing everything
Even the soil in the ground.
Speak up loudly
Like you never did before.
Only offshore bank accounts
Will tell the honest score.

We’re all in trouble, people
And too few of us believe
This is the time to throw them out
And not a time for us to grieve.
Doing nothing is how we got here
Crooks have us by the throats.
We need to be angry Rottweilers
Instead of a herd of lazy goats.

Pull up your heads
And look around.
They’re stealing everything
Even the soil in the ground.
Speak up loudly
Like you never did before.
Only offshore bank accounts
Will tell the honest score.

The lies of guys I was unwise
To let between my thighs
Because their eyes beguiled
Every time they smiled and I
Could not prematurely say goodbye.
Instead I took the guy to bed
Despite the murmurs in my head
And said stupid things in his ear
That I regretted that year and still
And yes, I probably always will.

Some guys tell lies with their eyes
In a kind of non-verbal disguise,
Of bigger and sadder untruths
That a green youth suspect exist
So that I didn’t resist temptation
To ignore deceit and exaggeration
For a moment’s hope for romance
And an afternoon’s hopeful chance
At something profound and legendary
That I forgot I needed to be wary.

Then the surprises in my eyes
As I realized I was unwise
But still thought I loved the guys,
Time and time again, trying,
Forgetting the crying and chagrin,
Then brave enough to try again
Taking time to learn to swim
In the river of romantic dreams
That starts in a tiny little stream
Going on until I sink or scream
Love is not something from a magazine.

Then one day I wake and say
No more! I finally know the score.
The whole game is a sick bore
And I know what it is all for.
It is for the wises route to wisdom.
To know I am finally through with them,
To know which ones are bad for me
And which to welcome gratefully;
To set the table and make dinner
And know for sure, he’s a winner.

I share the concept happily,
For those who ask me seriously,
That dating can be successful
Can even be fun and restful
If you ignore the glittery butterflies
That cavort and lie with their eyes
And want only that momentary thing
But are deathly afraid of the ring
And the promise that comes with you.
Don’t applaud those who gig you.
And choose from those who dig you.

It's hard not to get angry
At the cricket in the closet
During repeated ratatats
Of the rain on the roof.
Relying on the radiator
Ramboing the reluctance
Resident in the rafters.
Warm winter wishes
For a will of the wisp winter
Waken to wisdom
Rather than rash reminiscence
And rootless resentment.

Bountiful blankets build
A buffer and bulwark
Against my acrimonious
Admonitions assailing
The ghastly gods of nature,
That get together and muster
A team of terrifying titans
That have twisted spring
Into a frozen thing
To, like last year, once again
Punish the thin-skinned.

I won’t leave my toes out,
My piggy toes or my snout
Where a breeze can tease
Or threaten to freeze
From nails to knees.
Oh, please. This one night
Do it right, heed my plight;
Some unspoken vow to keep,
To let a chilly soul sleep
Else I shall weep
In a winter this deep.

I could not wear pink shirts
I could not wear fuzzy sweaters
I could not talk in my normal voice.
I had to change genders
When talking about my dates.
I could not keep my boyfriend’s picture
On my desk like everyone else did
Around the cluttered desks of others.

I could not talk at work about home;
I could not use the word married
I had to use words like ‘partner’
Even after years of being married.
Close friends and family talked
About him as ‘my little friend’
Even though he was older and
Bigger than a football tight end.

I had to put single on all papers
Including my tax forms in spring.
Being part of a gay household
To institutions didn’t mean a thing.
The bragging rights for gay people
Didn’t exist for anything essential.
The underscript was that gay folks
Were something vile and pestilential.

There was no recompense from god
Because we were called abominations.
Onward Christian Soldiers was a theme
That authorized the invasion of nations.
So, how were we to manage liberation
And pride in who we were as gays?
Some of us were murdered for this
Most of us harassed in ugly ways.

Somebody went and dropped a house on us
Put fools into office to make us cuss.
Made all the rest of us feel hit by a bus.
Oh, no, we’re going to cry.

Some lazy people didn’t try to help,
Millions of us not quite as smart as kelp!
Now it is done, they don't hear us yelp.
Oh, no, we just might die.

Rumble, boogie
Boogie woogie oogie

People are running things that cannot read
Don’t have the background or wit they need
Letting our national resources go to seed
A scary bunch of good-for-nothings high on greed.
Oh, yes, we’re all a mess.

Cancelling the programs that helped the sick
******* public money like a ****** tick.
Hiring ****** lawyers for their ***** tricks.
Oh, no, it just began.

Rumble, boogie
They gave us a noogie.

Playing ugly war games on friend and foe
Not a single clue about where this may go.
Robbing Social Security as if we’d never know.
Oh, yes, they are the worst.

Trying to change the laws so we all fail
If we protest they want us all in jail.
Keep us so broke we can’t make the bail,
Unless we rise and stop them first.

Rumble, boogie
They gave us a noogie.

We could have voted last year to stop this crap
Now, good or bad we’ve fallen in their a trap.
Meanwhile the fat cats keep ****** in their lap.
We need to jail them for a very long nap.

Rumble, boogie
Boogie woogie oogie

Rickrack, got cataracts
My vision is so blurry.
Surgery done, not much fun
I wish healing would hurry.
Zip zop, roota zoot.
Hate backless hospital suits!
Clap clap, standing ovation.
For a successful operation.

Wave pompoms, ziss boom bah
For magic modern medicine
In just one day, as they say.
The right eye is all fixed again.
Go back in a few weeks
And have the left one done.
Huzzah hurrah and yippee kai yay
And the healing has begun.

Colors I never noticed before
Are now bright and shiny.
If I had known that before I
Woulda been petulant and whiny.
But, nothing noticed, nothing lost
I am looking forward to the day
When I can see completely better.
Harroo and blinking hurray!

Rockabye baby
Up in the air.
Nobody questions
How it got there.
Who would put babies
Up high in a tree?
That sounds like
Child abusing to me!

People have sung this
For hundreds of years
Contributing little
But compounded fears.
They should rethink it
But they feel they must
Later they wonder
About lack of trust.

Like many stories
And songs sung to kids
Some scary stories
Are not so well hid
Like kid-munching witches
And following crumbs
Small wonder they fear
Wicked things come.

So don't put your babies
Up high in a tree
Not even lower
Like branch two or three.
Think up a ditty
That might help them thrive
And grow up happy
That they are alive.

Running with my pals
No thought of going home.
Anything is better than
Being there all alone.
Nobody cares back there
But with friends I’m someone.
We laugh and talk together
Nobody ranks on anyone.

We get a little bit drunk
Or ****** when we can
But mostly we just visit
And look out for the man.
The cops like to hassle us
Because we look like kids.
Not because of what we are
Or from something bad we did.

We sit around empty houses
Where people moved away
And party in growing numbers
Some have guitars to play.
We sing songs we all know
And some original tunes.
But if the weather is good enough
I like to walk under the moon.

The street can be a scary place
Or it can be an amusement park
If you are careful about things
And not afraid of the dark.
And, of course, when I go home
They never notice I was gone.
It won’t be too much longer
And I’ll be permanently moving on.

ACTING OUT

Trackdown, smackdown
Hit them with the facts.
Showdown downtown.
Teach them how to act.
Outloud, outproud
Backing down no more.
Outloud our crowd
Now we know the score.

It used to be we had to
Keep quiet about it or lie.
They could even jail us
So we didn’t even try.
We changed the gender
Of lovers when we shared.
We could say we married.
Nobody even dared.

We made up these stories
About roommates we had
Wanting any more than that
Could only leave us sad.
So, we used euphemisms
Like confirmed bachelor
To create a smokescreen
For our nosy neighbors.

Trackdown, smackdown
Hit them with the facts.
Showdown downtown.
Teach them how to act.
Outloud, outproud
Backing down no more.
Outloud our crowd
Now we know the score.

Nineteen seventy
Came up suddenly
And a few million of us
Wanted to be free.
So, we hit the boulevards
And sang the marching songs.
Out of the closet, into the streets
And millions more came along.

Trackdown, smackdown
Hit them with the facts.
Showdown downtown.
Teach them how to act.
Outloud, outproud
Backing down no more.
Outloud our crowd
Now we know the score.

Brent Kincaid
6/3/2014

For all my tales of braggery
I am the eloquent loser.
Out of thousands of choices
I will pick the ******,
The liar, the layabout or thief.
Then starts my florid tales
Designed to mask my grief.

I list the virtues of the guy,
The Prince Charming I caught
And talk about his attributes
None of which he has got.
I treat him like aristocracy
Even though he never works.
My friends wonder how I can
Align myself with such a ****.

So, that means more stories
To extoll his many talents
Even though he has so few
To brag about on balance.
I keep thinking my eloquence
Will overcome his character,
His many alluring facets
Or lack of which whatsoever.

It’s sad the lengths I have gone
Trying not to be so alone.
I have been accused of being
Like a dog with a favorite bone
In my attempts to justify
The awful choices I have taken.
But I don’t listen, I only talk
Any advice is all forsaken.

That’s how it goes with me
If I can explain things away,
Like Scarlett, I'll think about it
Maybe on some other day.
Maybe then I'll finally understand
Why I do what I always do.
But we eloquent losers don’t care
So very much what is true.

Rooster has to crow in the morning
Cat has to prowl around at night.
I see a petty dictator ruining lives
I grab my pencil ready to fight.
We’re not in the dark ages anymore.
Nor are we still in the Old West.
We don’t slap on a pistol and go out
And put a bunch of lead into the pest.

So, I write down the words that I feel.
I call a snake-oil salesman what he is.
I carefully explain what a crook looks like
And show off the difference from a Wiz.
They may claim they’re an eagle today
If that is the delusion they are in.
But I will be quick to dispel such a lie
By pointing out the wattles on their chin.

Pigeons spread their droppings all over.
Dog likes to dig around in the dirt.
I have to point out the creeps in the world
Then take appropriate joy when they’re hurt.
My hope is the people that are fooled will see
They don’t have to sit and eat the lies.
They can stand up and ***** in the face
Of those who are criminals in disguise.

Tell any scoundrels exactly what they are
And let them know you are not fooled.
Don’t let them walk away feeling proud.
Make sure they’re appropriately schooled.
Knock any martinet off their pedestal.
Tell them you think they are a clown.
Don’t leave their ego in undented shape.
Then go on and kick them when they’re down.

Contentment has a different kind of sound
To everyone who has ever witnessed it.
It fills the heart and settles the mind
And baffles those who have dismissed it.
Those canting people that cackled at us
Scowling, “Give up, it’ll never work.”
We smiled and continued our courtship
Not thinkng them a bunch of jerks.

We carried on, celebrating our successes
And learning from our many mistakes
And in time we began to see quite well
This is just what love and life takes.
We made our plans and changed them
When things didn’t go the right way.
And step by step, and inch by inch
We became who we are today.

Now we have sounds we make to each other
Less words, more loving noises we utter,
Salutations cobbled together over the years
Some remolded nicknames we often mutter
Glad we have walls around, roof above, and
Sounds made upon our leaving or returning,
And all is well here in our home of love
A message that the home fire is still burning.

A visitor might ask us, and have before
What did he say, or maybe, what did you?
I could explain the habits of our years
But no need. I heard and of course, I knew.
We often use the telescope of contentment
And look backward to where the sounds began
To watch them change through time and space
And become what they became over the span.

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.

LITTLE BABY LULLABY

Poor little baby
Your Daddy doesn’t care.
He’s still around someplace
But we don’t know where.

Hush little baby
Your Mama doesn’t care.
She ran off with someone
From the Renaissance Fair.

Precious little baby
Light in someone’s eyes
We pray that your parents aren’t
Immune to all your cries.

Annoying little baby
Your country doesn’t care.
Go find your food and drink
But find it all elsewhere.

Boohoo little baby
Your teachers don’t care
They have tests to pass out.
No time for them to share.

Lonely little baby
Jesus is your savior
As long as you truly are
The right and proper flavor.


(Repeat until it is no longer accurate.)

Brent Kincaid
3/30/2015

You are the starlight
On my bank of snow,
The sunlight on my fields;
You make things grow.

You lead the way to
Another summertime;
A lovely day hike
Another hill to climb.

I am the skateboard
You are the wheels.
You are the orange
And I am the peel.

You are the fairy tale
That keeps coming true.
I am one of the children
That was raised in a shoe.

You were the diamond
And I was the rough.
You were the golden link
I was the frayed cuff.

You are the road signs
I am the lonely road.
You were the Frog Prince
I was the lowly toad.

You made today have
A possible tomorrow
And helped me stop
Wallowing in my sorrow.

Now I hear beautiful music
Instead of commercial jingles.
Is this what it feels like
To no longer be single?

I am the skateboard
You are the wheels.
You are the orange
And I am the peel.

(This is by no means an attempt at poetry. It is, instead, a piece of satire.)

Making Adultery Great  Again
Make America Groan Aloud
Making Americans Greedy *******
Male American Grandiosity Association
Many Americans Grabbing *****
Mediocrity Actually Grows Annually
Men Acting Grossly Asinine
Masculinity And Grossness Amalgamated

Meanness And Greed Acceptability
Megalomaniacs Abrogating Government Accountability
Mostly ******* Getting Aggressive
Masking All Government Aggression
Miserable Atrocious GOP *****
Mad Animals Getting Angry
Making America Grow Antisocial.
Misanthropic Association Gutting America

Mistaking Accuracy, Growing Artless
Misery Accompanies GOP Analyses.
Misquoting Anybody Gains Approval.
Misspelling Anything Good Anytime.
Magic Ain’t Gonna Appear
Maybe All GOP Avoid
Meanness And Gouging Anytime
Money And Greed Always

Go to the park with me
Lie in the grass on the ground.
Stay out until dark with me
And watch the sun go down.

Before the sun goes away
Let’s watch the clouds above
And look at them to see
Images of things we love.

Let’s be on the lookout for
Rainbows out of nowhere.
Let’s remember to cherish
All the glory that we share.

Go to the park with me
And let’s roll downhill.
Then watch all the birds
And listen for a whippoorwill.

Let’s take advantage of
This beautiful day we see.
Let’s count our blessings;
Let one of them be me.

I hope you feel as grateful to
Have a life of love and beauty.
Let’s look upon enjoying it
As a kind of welcome duty.

Go to the park with me
Like a loving Jack and Jill.
Let’s make our memories here
In this park, on this hill.

Whimsy plays too big of a part
In what we call normal life today.
All the Gods the snobs invent
Have these expensive feet of clay.

You can put a monkey in a cannon
But that don’t make it incendiary.
Anyone can smoke a camel, but
That doesn’t make it a dromedary.

We need to have a nursery rhyme
That warns us about politicians.
Specifically how to disarm them
And turn them into electricians.

You can’t roll a joint properly
While surfing on your Sea Doo.
You have to ask the questions
But the answers might mislead you.

Unlike an elephant who remembers
Who knows what the thing recalls?
Voters forget every fourth November,
The outcome far too often appalls.

Bringing popcorn to a media circus?
Plays too much like a bunch of selfies.
The humor there is out of service.
Leave that movie on the shelf, please.

You can sing a song of sixpence
But it doesn’t buy a flipping thing.
It’s hard to find an honest man
When artful liars get everything.

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.

Where were you when the good guys lost?
When only bad guys got to score?
What were you doing to help us win the fight
When we needed a few people more?
How did it happen that you were so busy
That you couldn’t come face them down,
And let the people who were elected to lead us
Be rascals crooks and scary clowns?

Were you locked up in a prison someplace
Or in some kind of conflict of your own?
Was there a monstrous family schism happening
That put all else into the Twilight Zone?
Were you unconscious in an ugly coma
Through something horrible done to you?
Were you lost in a desert for a year or more?
Was there some brain freeze you lived through?

What could have been so important to you
That you could let our country go to hell
And fall into a pattern of human oppression
That the **** party did so freaking well?
What kind of earthshaking civic duty did you see
That was more important than our freedom?
What kind of social and political madness was it
That took the place of your sense of reason?

Are you planning to blame other people later
When the country we love falls apart?
Will you point the fingers at the leaders you chose?
And how late will you let that start?
Will it be far too late to stop your chosen lawmakers
From blocking every effort you or I make?
Will you let them swindle, rob and imprison all of us
To keep from prosecuting those on the take?

Where will you be when we try to fix this mess?
Will you be off enjoying wine, women and song?
Will you be in a debauched fool’s paradise when
The last chance for democracy comes along?
Or will you finally do some reading and research
To find out where this country went astray?
You haven't been able to wake and smell the fear.
Maybe you can come to your senses today.

No matter just how many times I told her
She couldn’t seem to keep it in her head;
While everyone enjoys the circus,
I do not enjoy it in my bed.

I made it clear at the beginning
That I was a quiet kind of guy
Still she insisted on the drama
And I never found out why.

Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.

Was she raised in a hippie commune or
Maybe some kind of traveling show?
Though I asked her many times
I will probably never know.

There had to be drinks and some food
By the bedside when we retired.
Though I begged not to drink coffee
It seemed she was always wired.

Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.

She wanted to stay up late each evening
And then she’d sleep in way past noon.
Of course I was gone to work by then
So, we’d meet at the rise of the moon.

At first it was very exciting for me
To have this rigorous loving game.
So, I guess I brought it on myself
And I am the only one to blame.

Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.

Danny could be counted on
To run some kind of scam.
And usually the victim was
His older brother Sam.
But Jimmy liked pranks
And pulled quite a few.
Jumping out at passersby
Was a favorite thing to do.

One day I took them with
Mom’s express consent
To our favorite notions store,
Woolworth five and ten.
We looked and touched;
Added to our Christmas list.
And as we paid for candy
I was clueless what was amiss.

As we were walking home
Out on the street again
Suddenly, goggle eyed
I saw the show begin.
Out of each kid’s pocket
A trinket, a toy appeared.
This is precisely what
I had originally feared.

The little shoplifters stole!
The blame would befall me.
Their only thought was
They got all this for free.
I told them to take it back
But they just angrily said no.
I had other recourse, it seemed
Then to let our Mama know.

Mama went a bit frantic
Her voice went high and loud.
And of course, my brothers
Were no longer quite so proud.
Jimmy smacked Sammy
And Sammy started crying.
Mama smacked them all.
And Danny started lying.

Then Mama walked them
Every one of the three
Back to the five and dime
And they confessed tearfully.
Mama paid for the things
And told them no TV
And sent them to bed soon
After supper was history.

And all of them blamed me
But, Mama said I did well.
It wasn’t to please Mama.
I didn’t want them to go to hell.
And I was a bit P.O.ed;
They took advantage of me.
So, they could just grumble.
It made no difference to me.

That’s the way things went
With three regular brothers.
There were fights and fits.
They often miffed our mother.
Jimmy smacked Sammy
And Sammy started crying.
Mama smacked them all
And Danny started lying.

There’s something wrong with me
I’m broken somewhere inside.
And, I know it won’t be easily fixed
I know because I tried.
I’m all messed up and in pain
And nothing is going right.
I keep on trying to get better
But it’s an uphill fight.

I’m hurting and I want to cry.
I’m depressed and I know why.
I want things to change right now
But, I can’t fix it. I don’t know how.

I keep wishing it was tomorrow
And my heart didn’t hurt so much
For the feel of you in my arms
And the healing of your loving touch.
I’ve healed all I will ever heal
From drowning in my own tears.
But there is something wrong with me
Since you are no longer here.

I’m hurting and I want to cry.
I’m depressed and I know why.
I want things to change right now
But, I can’t fix it. I don’t know how.

There’s something wrong with me
I’m broken somewhere inside.
And, I know it won’t be easily fixed
I know because I tried.
I’m all messed up and in pain
And nothing is going right.
I keep on trying to get better
But it’s an uphill fight.

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.

How can you ask me to keep my cool?
I suppose it’s easy to say.
But when the talking is through, you and my lover
Will get up and walk happily away.

I know you’ll understand my lack of humor;
I didn’t come to bring you valentines.
Once I had a heart and it was broken.
I’m not in the mood to be kind.

So, I guess it’s time now for us to part.
I guess there isn’t much left to say.
This isn’t they we had things planned.
I wish it had turned out another way.

I fully can admit to being selfish.
This is not an easy scene to play.
Did you really think it would be pleasant?
Just another hyper-normal day?

How can you ask me to keep my cool?
I suppose it’s easy to say.
But when the talking is through, you and my lover
Will get up and walk happily away.

Brent Kincaid
4/22/2015