I ask the prayers of the little ones
the ones closest to the heart of love
especially the souls, like all others
bestowed at conception.... and
ripped from their mothers womb.

Our heros keep exiting the stage,
Leaving us their music, art, film, and literature.
Their athletic accomplishments,
Their political discretions,
And hidden battlescars,
Their scientific and medical wonders.
Our ancestors left us the wheel and fire,
The family unit and our extended compatriots.
A good lineage always starts in the cave,
And helps us make it through the night.

Those two are so often seen,
That one might see them as one.
One wouldn't, one said,
And one would be wrong.
The other said, Yes, one would.
One won't.
We know.
It's all show. Civility. Cruelty.
One knows.

We were here first.
     I seriously doubt that,
     but, for the sake of argument,
     let's say you were,
     here first.
     So?
     I was here second.
     This isn't a race.

Speak truth to power,
And don't dismiss the facts.
Why insipidly focus on polls
Like the failing Times,
The Murdochian lies
And the Hedge Fund huskers
Do.
CNN is rudderless.
The media is fascist,
Bending facts to fit the frame.
There is no Venn Diagram
For comfirmative circles.
Don't treat the true and the false,
The outrageous and the normal
As glossed over good people on both sides.
The sides are not equally valid
Because the Post opines it so.

In my 20's
In the 70's
I was long in hair,
Donned vests and jeans,
From Goodwill Stores.
But I spent hard cash
On calf-high boots,
Raven black platforms.

Now in my 70's
In these 20's,
They threw me a party.

Hello 70's.
You Are Invited
To a 70's Party.
Groovy attire welcome.

Was I obliged.
Soon compelled.
Nearly obsessed.

Then the epiphany.
The Bard,
Reminds this walking shadow
In the long, gray-haired rented wig.