March, 2019

The new EPA head named Wheeler
Is a big-time Coal Industry dealer.
As his underlings flee,
He claims progress is key –
This safeguard protection repealer.

If truly we wish value from our future
Then now we must see value in a teacher
A lazy, over-paid, socialist creature
For young and challenged minds, a healing suture.

Inspired and inspiring when at best
This baby sitter, warden, cop and friend
A job of late that’s hard to recommend
And now it’s their resolve that’s put to test.

The Titans, Brokers, Superstars and scammers
And those who’s business is but making money
Contribute less, but take home all the honey.
Demanding Fair is not sickles & hammers.

You know the billionaire DeVos is wise.
She knows well the solution. Privatize.


There once was a Black man named Stern
Who gave neo-Nazi’s the burn
Through an odd twist of fate,
Took the reins of their hate,
And will force NSM to adjourn.


Abuse and obstruction; rampant corruption.
Dozens of folks from Trump’s organization.
This Judicial Branch inquiry’s quite a sensation.
And how does our Prez cope with all this disruption?

A lie-filled flag-humping show for his base.
The CPAC Regatta – a week-end long rite
Of Red, White & Blue – with the focus on White.
A break from the troubles outside he must face.

There’s family and friends with questions to answer
Two sons and an in-law, a long list of cronies
Made up of enforcers, grifters and phonies
We know he’s a dealer, but how good a dancer.

The Greatness of our Great American Scandals.
So cast a wide net on Democracy’s vandals.


When she lost the election, she grieved,
And her many supporters were peeved,
But when Hil made it clear
That she won’t run next year,
I must say I was slightly relieved.


Their last Summit wasn’t much fun.
Now a nuclear rebuild’s begun.
With his cronies indicted
Too bad Trump got slighted
By his good friend dictator Jong Un.


With current events off the scale,
Theres much to make one weep and wail.
One’s mood can be gray,
But one good thing today
Is Paul Manafort goes to jail!


The much anticipated day in court
Came for the “blameless life” of Manafort
When for his acts, committed fraudulently,
His sentencing was offered leniently.

A stellar past in service to corruption,
To global despots fostering disruption
How many through his service came to pain
Before his job as head of Trump’s campaign.

But forty-seven months is what’s expected
When one is white and wealthy and connected.
If you should steal a million or a dollar,
The justice is the color of your collar.

This man has no contrition to confess.
How many have served more for doing less.


Dave Bernhardt now heads the Interior.
His goal: make protections inferior.
The man sold his soul
To Oil Gas and Coal.
I wish we could kick his posterior.


There’s a rhyme to write – better get to it.
But I waited too long and I blew it.
One about our Head Crook’s
Signing folks’ Holy Books
But a friend of mine just beat me to it.


How many billion dollars does it take
To build a border wall that does not break.
How long must lies and prejudice persist
To sell a crisis that does not exist.

Twenty-five million dollars for each mile
Would fund our schools quite nicely for a while
But God’s anointed savior leads our nation –
With Trump in charge who needs an education.

There was a time Republicans stood fast
Against all debt, but lo, that time has passed
Now lining up to feed the Great Machine
They’re printing cash at rates that are obscene.

Security is pushed like a narcotic,
This 700 miles of idiotic.


Our planet is going insane
With many in fear or in pain
But the sad thing today
Is the passing away
Of the legend of drumming, Hal Blaine.


When some MAX-8 planes crashed in a flurry,
Governments grounded them in a hurry.
Good precautions to take,
But with Boeing at stake,
Our FAA says “Not to worry”.

(I’m pleased to note that since this rhyme was posted, these coffins on wings have since been grounded in the USA. I guess our President read my rhyme. Bravo!)

Why on earth would one work to Be Best.
You can pay someone to take your test.
To get in the best schools
There’s two sets of rules –
For the rich, and then all the rest.


When hatred leaps from thought to manifest
And dreams of bloodshed wake unto the real,
This 8-chan sickness now in stark reveal,
To foster fear and foment more unrest.

A tribute to the slaughters of the past,
These bullets fly in Christchurch of all places
His target – worshippers with darker faces
Demented star with his unwilling cast.

A secret web of hatred cheers it on
For yes, this massacre was broadcast live
What monstrous soul could ever this contrive
Oh One God, please, where on Earth have you gone.

His manifesto brings the darkest clue:
White Children, this man did it all for you.


When Congress gave Trump a defeat
On his Border Wall Crisis conceit,
While perched on his throne,
He picked up his phone
And delivered his VETO by tweet.


Two years ago upon this very day
I started with a rather simple verse,
Then daily wrote of world events perverse
In all that time, there wasn’t much to say…

Some houses burned, some famous people died,
Some 36 Trump cronies got indicted,
Flyover states saw cities grow more blighted
White guys with guns mass-murdered for their pride.

The rich got more while workers took a hit.
Our press and whistle-blowers paid quite dearly.
We witnessed stacked courts shifting right so clearly
While Politicians spewed their same old shit.

Brown kids were put in cages, glaciers dwindled,
Big Pharma grew, while sickly folks got swindled,
And blameless souls in countries far away
Were killed by weapons Made in USA.

Atop it all, just watching with a shrug.
Our President, this graceless, tone-deaf thug.


Steve King jokes about Civil War.
With one trillion bullets to score.
It’s Blue versus Red!
It’s Americans, dead!
This man is depraved to his core.


The New York AG took a look
At the Trump Foundation ledger book.
Crossing ethical lines
Cost it millions in fines,
For his own benefit he partook.


Houston’s dark clouds are safe, so they say.
Two days worth of fire. OK…
Naphtha, gas and xylene
Spewing smoke on the scene…
Say “Hello” to your new EPA.


So New Zealand bans guns of assault.
This will not bring their woes to a halt.
When guns are outlawed,
Liberty will get flawed.
If they live, it’s their own goddamned fault.


Trump’s budget that’s for 2020
Cuts social program funding plenty.
The poor, sick and old
Get stuck in the cold.
It’s the same ol’
Republican stunt-y.


Two years and costing over 30 mil,
This nightmare of a “witch hunt” and a “hoax”
This running theme of late night talk show jokes,
But for the facts, we are but waiting still.

For Mueller’s work is in the hands of Barr.
Despite his promise of transparency
How much will Congress really get to see
How deep the revelations and how far.

Now breathlessly we wait for some conclusion
Some clean-up for these many cans of worms
From Deutsche Bank to crony prison terms,
And maybe just a hint of some collusion.

But now the air is filled with pundit chatter
And to his base, the findings will not matter.


For Econ, Steve Moore has no head.
He just makes up statistics instead.
This man is the joke
Who helped Kansas go broke,
And he’s Trump’s pick to serve on the Fed.


Yesterday, we were hoping for plenty.
But instead of “Home Run!”, we got “bunt-y”.
If that’s really that,
“Mueller Time” just fell flat.
Let’s hear it for “Trump 2020!”


The poem of the beast now, six-six-six.
The downward spiral of my daily counting.
With rancor on both sides, the pressure mounting
Combines with ego for a toxic mix.

Exonerated by who he appointed,
Proclaiming victory, this Teflon Don
Is free to proudly perpetrate The Con,
Emerging as his base’s True Anointed.

And with that four-page summary in hand,
He rubs it in the face of his accusers,
Those fiction-writing sick and biased losers
And moves ahead more firmly in command.

It seems, with Russians, he did not consort.
Still we demand to see the full report.

DeVos says “cut Special Olympics”.
To provide some minor budget fix.
An inspiring show,
But the money must go
To fund projects of some old limp pricks.


In America, land of the free
We enjoy the right to disagree
For what ever reason.
But I’ll call it treason
If you dare disagree with me


It’s hard to know where to begin
As I look at The Don and his kin
Rude, callous and vain
Neanderthal brain,
And an ego devoid of chagrin.

So Trump is absolved of all guilt.
Yet disclosure demands will not wilt.
For some say that Barr
Has gone a bit far,
Causing scales of justice to tilt.


What once was posed as “truth”, becomes “opinions”.
Convenient second thoughts with trial looming
But what of all the lies, his fans consuming
False flag beliefs dispersed among his minions.

So now his second thoughts on crisis actors
Those twenty-six poor victims really dead
But Alex Jones deflects the blame instead
And points at dark conspiratory factors.

What once was sold as “news”, now “entertainment”
Among the right-wing paranoia lot.
Unwilling to admit the grief he brought
Perhaps his tune will change at his arraignment.

Yes, many times our government has lied.
But Sandy Hook was real, and children died.

February, 2019

Today is the First, and it’s clear
That Black History Month is now here.
A rich legacy
That happens to be
In the shortest month of the year.


A nuclear pact pull-out’s looming.
Trump & Putin have peace-niks all fuming.
The arms race is on!
In a flash, we’ll be gone!
Who cares? The Defense sector’s booming!

Though clever commercials delay it,
The Super Bowl’s here. Hip-Hooray it.
Our president scoffed
That the game’s become soft.
Still, he wouldn’t want Barron to play it.


“Executive Time” is a clever
Way of saying “A schedule?Never!”
Watching TV and tweeting.
An occasional meeting.
The most productive President ever!

The State of The Union’s tonight.
Time for Trump to make everything right
For border hysteria
And chaos in Syria
And folks who are rich, male and white.


A lengthy speech marked by uneven tone
Highlighting presidential contradictions
And filled with his abundant trademark fictions
About that lawless southern border zone.

His TelePrompTer called for compromise,
So dangling hopes of “peace and legislation”
He blasted partisan investigation
That seeks the truth that lies beneath the lies.

While Democratic women, wearing white
Took time to loudly celebrate their presence
A grimace barely masked Pence’s unpleasance
These new recruits have just begun to fight.

With mem’ries of that shutdown hard to swallow,
Trump’s call for greatness sadly rang out hollow.


Oh, Virginia. What more can I say.
You’re sure in the headlines today.
Your three at the top,
And a Nazi ex-cop…
This behavior is just not O.K.


The Enquirer – A Crown Jewel of The Press
With photos of Jeff Bezos’ naughty bits
Attempted to cause him blackmailed fits
But Bezos turned the log to show the mess.

Not mum on Pecker’s Saudi dealings,
Relentless coverage on Kashoggi’s killing,
The WaPo showed that it was more than willing
To take on threats of sleazy tabloid squealings.

Our President, though, not above the fray,
Enjoyed his ally’s pledge to “catch & kill”
While yet extorting Bezos for the thrill
One wonders – what would Walter Cronkite say?

The threats extend to Ronan Farrow too.
They said “stop digging or we’ll ruin you”.


There once was an acting AG
Who had an odd job history
At his hearing, he stalled,
Sweat a lot and stonewalled,
Then off to Trump Tower did flee.


Take a moment and look at the bump
In the millions of dollars to pump
By committees and lobbies
Who make it their hobbies
To stay in hotels owned by Trump.


A U.S. plane loaded with gun
Flew to Venezuela, not for fun.
It was sent on a mission
To arm opposition
‘Cause our country did not like who won.


With a much smaller number selected,
A solution to shutdown’s detected.
Perhaps it was wise
To seek compromise
If one might like to get re-elected.


How far the once-mighty can fall.
El Chapo is guilty of all.
He’d run drugs and kill
Now Ted Cruz has a bill
To get him to pay for the wall.

A Trump pal named Paul Manafort
Made the error of lying in court.
The judge said she feels
This voided his deals,
And may add more years just for sport.


A power grab while we all slept.
His bound’ries now far over-stepped.
The border’s no urgency.
Our real emergency
Is 22 trillion of debt.


Of foreign foe there’s no on-rushing flood
No migrant hordes through non- existent gates
These lies are fanning fears and fueling hates
Our threats are summer fire and winter mud.

Our danger’s not the savage at our border
But folks who look like us with mortal rage
Not frightened brown-skinned children in a cage
But some disgruntled white guy weapons-hoarder.

Our greater threat’s not strangers come to kill
Or take the jobs we’ve all lost to robotics
But overdosing on legal narcotics,
And lack of good insurance when we’re ill.

It’s all in what emergency you choose
Dictated by your keepers at FOX News.


To think of our agents repels me.
To hang with dictators propels me.
It just makes more sense
That intelligence
Is whatever Vladimir tells me.


Seen through Donald’s political prism,
Our country is plagued by a schism.
He’s leading the fight
To champion the right
To the left of him’s all Socialism.


It’s early now, but still there are debates
Among the 2020 candidates
Each day, the Democrats expand the field
With hats in ring, what will the future yield.

There’s Amy Klobuchar from Minnesoter.
A hard-ass boss with rampant staff turnover
And Bernie’s back, though last time things went rough
He’ll get the votes from folks who want free stuff.

Liz Warren takes on privileged elite
But can a person win without Wall Street.
Kamala and her prosecutor’s reasoning,
Politically might need a bit more seasoning

The Senator from Newark, Corey Booker
Walked back from his PAC money pressure cooker,
But Tulsi Gabbard might have done a bad
By meeting up with Bashar al-Assad.

More names come as this list of runners grows,
Like John Delaney, who no one really knows…


The judge in his sights wants to know
Are there limits to how low he’d go.
If it’s not what he meant,
What WAS his intent.
Roger Stone is one crazy mofo.


A white Coast Guard racist has said
That he longs to make innocents dead.
With weapons stockpiled,
His story, quite wild.
CNN gave us Jussie instead.


The Green Deal Feinstein is eschewing
While our planet is in for a screwing.
A battle for power
As we near Zero Hour.
Don’t worry. She knows what she’s doing.


Mark Harris may just take a beating
In his quest for Congressional seating.
This preacher for God
Got tied up in fraud
And just could not win without cheating.


The melting glacier and dying barrier reef,
The freeze and fire of seasonal extremes
Each day a new catastrophe it seems
As those in charge place profit over grief.

Our carbon footprint scars are everywhere
As frack and soot expel beyond compliance
When one has faith, who has a need for science
Why worry when Big Daddy will take care.

Our leader scoffs at studied bleak assessments
He’ll make a new committee of his own
Of doubters and deniers out on loan
From companies protecting their investments.

This Green New Deal’s quite expensive, tho
The world can not afford the status quo.


The Congress will vote disapproval.
For his wall, he should get not a ruble.
Then Cohen testifies
And we’ll hear wheres and whys
That might bring about his removal.


“A racist. A con man. A cheat”.
This sums up our leader, complete.
Today, a bit later,
He’ll sit with dictator
Kim Jong Un for a nice Meet ‘n’ Greet.


Only four men know just what was said.
Translators, and each country’s head.
Trump told us all why
(Why on earth would he lie)
But it looks like a deal is dead.

January, 2019

How sad our Prez chose not to go
Ring the New in at Mar a Lago.
May he sit on the John
Tweeting out until dawn
To reruns of Guy Lombardo.

The Mitt Romney Wa-Po Op-Ed
Has Trump and his crew seeing red.
Don’t carp and lament
Over Trump’s “Deep Descent”
Just be a “Team Player” instead.


So once again Pelosi takes the gavel,
And true to form, a woman on a mission.
Now Trump can face a real politician
Who’ll help this bully blowhard’s slow unravel.

New faces, new agendas take the floor
As fear and judgement butt against their hopes.
And may, with grace, they quickly learn the ropes
Then show us what Democracy stands for.

So witness this historic swearing in
Tho’ opposition offers mostly swearing.
Now will our man in charge be quite as daring?
Who cares. Now let the oversight begin.

New chapters open now – good luck to all,
Except on getting funding for that wall.


His staff is a hemorrhaging mess.
The government’s shut, more or less.
The market is fallin’
Soon, Mueller comes callin’
And this he calls “too much success”.


As Week Three of The Shutdown Game commences
His Loyal Staffers get a tidy bump
While Furloughed Workers surely root for Trump
Reflecting on the Scope of Consequences.

There’s always money for Collecting Taxes.
But those Food Stamps will prob’ly have to go,
Along with most entitlements. You know,
austerity is such a Noble Practice.

So shut it down for months or even years.
Just sit and hold your breath ‘til we turn blue.
Get Hannity to bark your praise on cue,
And bathe in your supporters’ hollow cheers.

A vigil for the Endgame to begin.
A wall does not protect from rot within.


This frolicking Socialist teen!
Her video dance is obscene!
If we don’t stop this witch
She’ll be taxing the rich
To pay for the New Deal Green!


At the Golden Globes people were waitin’.
The winners were cause for debatin’.
Who would steal the scene:
Lady Gaga or Queen,
Or Christian Bale for his Satan.

(bonus sonnet – no extra charge!)
You can’t impeach someone who’s doing great.
You know that you can’t win in 2020.
Most people say that I’ve accomplished plenty.
Who else could match the winning I create.

I’ve stymied trade and turned the market bear
My cabinet is leaking like a sieve
I slipped our former allies all the shiv,
And championed profit over cleaner air.

For dictators and and despots I’m a sucker.
I know that global warming’s not for real.
I’ve lied, insulted, swore & copped a feel
While shocked when being called a “mother-fuxxer”.

Some find my record dubious, but shucks,
I also filled the courts with right-wing schmucks.


Tonight! Broadcast live from the Oval
The Networks are at Trump’s disposal.
As each falsehood slips
From his gross, pouty lips
I’d rather watch John Bolton yodel.


About this 5.7, tell us please
On what do you base your priorities.
Is this an act that benefits the most,
Or merely satisfies a campaign boast.

Could not that future debt be better spent,
If sent to bolster steel and cement
Of roads and bridges far within our borders,
Or used to fund the costs of doctors’ orders

To help rebuild our broken middle class.
This crisis rests upon your head you ass.
Objective compromise leads to reform
A leader’s tantrum never is the norm.

A wall, with countless fences left to mend.
This shutdown still is no means to an end.


As measured compromise sits on the shelf
Two sides dig in. Intractability.
To test the borders of civility
A government at war against itself.

Both sides entrenched for ever-shifting whys
An image of arm wrest’ling politicians
Their public faces mask private ambitions
While consequences stack up to the skies.

Two narratives collide, their truths in contrast.
A crisis or a crisis made for show
The time of post-truth makes it hard to know.
So Chuck and Nancy’s “No” meets exit bombast.

Eight hundred thousand workers in a freeze.
Each one a National


In the meantime, the suit, Michael Cohen
Will tell Congress what he is knowin’
Of pornstar relations
And Moscow persuasions
While our president’s nose just keeps growin’


From Iowa, Steve King is good
Praising White Western Ways as he should
But he stoops way too low
And his true colors show
When he gets the white sheet and the hood.


Hey Trump, if I may be so bold,
Your shutdown is sure getting old.
With this crisis you made
Workers ain’t getting paid
And our National Parks reek of mold.


How funny that Fake News reporters
See no crisis at all at our borders.
The House passed some Spending
Bills for shutdown ending,
While McConnell just waits for Trump’s orders.


Seven-hundred thirty-six days remain
Until our country’s next inauguration
And still the tantrum shutdown plagues our nation
Eight-hundred thousand workers bear that pain.

While at the White House, Clemson football winners
Are feted by our fast-food fan in-chief
Providing comic photoshop relief
So, let them all eat Happy Meal Dinners.

A trying time of famine and of feast
Of banquets filled with empty calories
Their handy plastic boxes fill our seas
While hungry minds rage on against the beast.

How many ways to shape my little rhymes
To say we live in “interesting times”.


Meanwhile, in Britain, you know
Theresa May has quite a show.
This Brexit excursion’s
The world’s longest version
Of Should I Stay or Should I Go.


So Rudy regrets the confusion,
Never saying there was no collusion.
If there was some, you know,
‘Twas a long time ago,
But it’s just false reporting illusion.


A narcissist, alas, he has no cure
Perhaps tho, for brief times, he’ll rise above
That lack of empathy, and self-fixated love.
The best the rest can do is just endure.

Enabl’rs grease his path and offer traction.
While he sows chaos, fear and competition,
And lying constantly without contrition
No bound’ries to rein in self-serving action.

A lifetime spent mistaking wealth for value
Embracing shallow flattery as love
While doubters and dissenters get the shove.
With just enough charisma there to pal you.

Each tweet, each quote, each headline coming faster.
Not so much clown as some depraved ringmaster.


Today there’s a nationwide crowd.
Standing tall, they’ll be strong, they’ll be loud.
Women there of all kinds
Singing songs, holding signs.
May they all wear their pussy hats proud.


On Saturday, Trump gave his spiel.
“Fund the wall and I’ll keep DACA real”.
A publicity stunt
As he whiffs at a bunt.
What we see here’s the Art of No Deal.


There once was a MAGA Hat Teen.
To an Elder Vet, he appeared mean.
One’s cause to get ired
By what had transpired
Depends on what footage was seen.


O Buzzfeed, what’s this bombshell you’ve reported.
Your shocking news from vetted unnamed sources
Is not the line that Mueller quite endorses.
Is what you say untrue or just distorted.

When accuracy loses out to speed
And wishful thinking trumps the need for fact,
The 5th Estate is that much less intact.
Don’t give us rumor. Truth is what we need.

What Mueller knows he sure ain’t rightly sayin’.
But still, “Not accurate” does not mean “lies”
So BuzzFeed’s boss is standing by his guys,
And with their story, right now, they are stayin’.

A slow and measured pace by a Grand Jury
Breeds more conjecture, frustration, and fury.


Look around at the damage. So much.
The shutdown, the chaos and such.
Like his ventures before,
The outlook is poor.
Donald Trump has Reverse Midas Touch!


State of the Union. Please. How many care.
Beyond that, view the sad state of the world.
Oxfam statistics recently unfurled
Of 26 elite who will not share

How many generations’ prominence
Through them lay claim to half the global wealth
Through nepotism, cunning, strength and stealth
And how do they exert their dominance

In gross and subtle ways we are beholden
From massive debt, to those obscenely poor,
In serving those who’s only want is more.
A never ending quest to gild the golden.

And while they run the systems that deceive us,
We wrestle for the paltry crumbs they leave us.


To some, AOC is a witch.
Gives the Right wing a nasty-ass itch.
She’s a commie for sure
For seeing a cure
In taxing the richest of rich.


So the government’s no longer shut.
Thirty-five days, and for what.
The Donald got bested.
Roger Stone got arrested.
And Ann Coulter’s slapped on the butt.


What else besides “arrested” is ascribed
To he with Richard Nixon on his back
Who’s motto’s but “Accuse! Deny! Attack!”
The life-long “Dirty Trickster”, self-described.

With Manafort, he lobbied unafraid
To represent the bullies of the world,
Was there when Willie Horton was unfurled,
Made Opposition Research stock-in-trade.

He’d threaten or malign those in his path
His methods, truly devious and potent,
Described as copulating with a rodent.
“Get Roger Stone”, pay up, then take a bath.

From Nixon, Reagan, Dole, to Trump it’s clear
The draining of the swamp begins right here.


Beyond the issues and their litmus tests,
There’s much to say for one who knows the game
Who sets you up, then lets you wear the blame.
The dividends experience invests.

Like hardball, chess and blind-man’s bluff combined
Like sausage being made – that’s politics.
And therein lies the problem and the fix.
So back again, she’s not there to be kind.

Beyond the wall, beyond the shutdown show,
Beyond the glaring lack of invitation
To speak to congress and address the nation,
How galling that a woman told you no.

The strategy of bullying the weaker
Did not prepare you well for Madame Speaker.


Howard Schultz took a moment to say
He might run for the White House today.
Just another resplendent
Billionaire “independent”.
Stick with your half-caf iced soy latte.


There once was a Public Utility
Who gouged us without much humility.
They’re now going broke
Leaving fire victim folk
Seeking justice in smoky futility.


Election Day off? Mitch despises it!
A conspiracy’s how he surmises it.
So can we connote
That one’s right to vote
Is O.K. until one exercises it?

Merry Christmas from TrumPoetry!


‘Twas the night before Christmas, and at the White House
Everyone was indicted except the Head Louse.
The lights were all out, and the cell phones were gone
In hopes that the Prez wouldn’t tweet from the John.
Ivanka and Jared curled up free from blame,
Though they spent the past year cashing in on their name.
And Mama Melania slept through the racket
Wraped up in her “I Really Don’t Care, Do You?” Jacket.

When the Justice Department erupted with clamor
As they bet on the next one to go to the slammer,
Away went the Congress, with government closed –
Who cares if it’s We the People who get hosed.
The market was dropping like new-fallen snow
Leaving hordes of short-sellers with eyes all aglow,
When what to my year-weary eyes did appear,
But a caravan led by illegal reindeer.
With a little old driver, so fed up and tired
By the end of the year, he would quit or get fired.
Like endangered eagles, they limpingly came
As I wondered who’d be left for Donald to blame.
First Sessions, then Zinke, then Kelly, then Mattis.
Giuliani is staying, but he’d work for gratis.
With Haley’s departure, the U.N.’s in limbo
But she’ll be replaced by some young FOX News bimbo.
It’s a fast-sinking ship – it’s a crumbling wall
So dash away, dash away, dash away all!

I was shaking my head and about to get drunk
Contemplating how low our great country had sunk
When Santa walked in – the old man got grounded.
His reindeer locked up and his sleigh was impounded.
Poor Rudolph got wounded – that ended his schleppin’
When a cop mistook his bright red nose for a weapon.
I saw Santa wince as he clutched at his back
And he grabbed OxyContin from out of his pack.
But still as a trouper, he took to his task
In between taking sips from a Royal Crown flask.
I handed him treats and he emptied the bowl,
In return though, he filled up our stockings with coal.
“You’re welcome” he grunted, and went on to say
“For this you can thank Donald Trump’s EPA.
The North Pole is melting and flooding out folks.
So glad Climate Change is a mere Chinese hoax”.

Then shrugging his shoulders and scratching his head,
He said “Hey, we’re done here, just go back to bed”
Then calling an Uber, he went down the block
With faint hopes of getting his sleigh out of hock.
But as he rode off, I heard Santa wail
“Merry Christmas is a greeting that’s too big to fail!”

December, 2018


In Kennebunk, we saw him once,
While dining with his wife
Between us, Secret Service men
On call to save his life.

He looked relaxed and jovial
Quite friendly with the staff.
Acquaintances would saunter by,
Shake hands, and have a laugh.

Back in the day, his politics
And mine did not agree
But in retirement, he seemed
Benign enough to me.

I once put down his actions
And all he had to say
But now he stands a moderate
Compared to those today.

A local told me both were loved
By left and right and such,
Then smiled a bit, leaned in and said
“Their children, not as much”.

Ah, Vlad and the Saudi Crown Prince.
From their hands, blood of rivals they rinse.
Their G20 embrace
Caused our Prez to lose face,
And we haven’t seen Trump smile since.


At a China-US dinner meeting
A trade war truce met with warm greeting.
A Great Deal, we’re told.
Put them tariffs on hold.
And please, stop the stock market bleeding.


It’s been said that majority rules,
‘cept where those in charge doctored the rules,
and flagrantly pandered
districts, gerrymandered,
Playing well-meaning voters for fools.


No Prison Time. Three words that ring so sweetly
to he of long-term insights gained first-hand
for names and dates laid at Mueller’s command.
And what exactly does this tie up neatly.

From sifting lies, to pleas, to dots connected,
who gains, who loses from these revelations.
Regardless, will they change the fate of nations
should vote suppression become resurrected…

But I digress. This Russian agent’s song
Brings others from the woodwork to the chorus.
How substantive their melodies? How porous?
And will we know if Trump knew all along.

The Special Council probes Election Steal.
From “Lock her up” to “Hey, let’s make a deal”.

At the funeral, next to his wife,
Donald’s pouting cut thru like a knife
He was angry and sore
That in death, Bush was more
Than Don ever could be in his life.


Over North Carolina’s vote messin’
Dan McCready’s withdrawn his concession.
Absentee ballots bought.
Looks like someone got caught.
Hope there’ll be a G.O.P. confession.

O sing the song of Fixer Michael Cohen
A mix of lies and truths through seven meetings
With verse and chorus rhymed with guilty pleadings,
And coda from the prison where he’s goin’.

But what of this Individual One?
Did he but pay to keep silent a tryst,
Or stoop to kiss some Russian Mobster’s fist
To move ahead his Moscow Trump Tow’r Fund.

For Truthy News, what do we hear from Rudy,
Wide-eyed and frothing in his tweet denials.
Come January – more charges and trials
With Dems in charge, let’s watch him do his duty.

New revelations shows a plot that’s thickening
Each player and their action, truly sickening.


A house divided. Anger burns in eyes.
All view The Other. None for compromise
Cruelty, injustice. Power for the few.
Headlines of fear. But still, what else is true.

Countries at odd while borders grow inflamed.
Leaders posture as their young get maimed.
Buddhist. Christian. Hindu. Moslem. Jew.
One God or none. But still, what else is true.

A planet on the brink needs action drastic
What isn’t up in flames is filled with plastic
While seven billion wonder what to do,
The rest are leaders. Still, what else is true.

The joy of harmony. The promise of romancin’
If all else fails, dare to go out dancin’.


From the proud who use brick-bats as shields
Shines the blood red their hatefullness yields.
The hurtling metal
The crush of a petal
The jail for James Alex Fields.


There once was a Staff Chief named Kelly.
Who hung in ‘til he said “Woah, Nellie!
All these employees
Crawl in on their knees
‘Til they slither back out on their belly.”


The committee where Manchin will sit
Is giving progressives a fit.
He’ll make real-world strides,
And work with both sides.
Translation: He ain’t gon’ do shit.


For years they would spit out this woman’s name
As if expectorating something bitter
Now back, beyond a doubt, no quitter,
More than prepared to beat you at your game,

As cameras roll we catch the penile pride
erupting in a briefing paper toss.
Just shut it down. You show that bitch who’s boss
A wall. But you’re the only one inside.

So what’s a man to do about this thing –
A woman who’s main goal is not to please.
A woman who says “no.”, not on her knees.
“Don’t underestimate”, she said, “the strength I bring”.

While Pence sits quietly, not even twitchin’,
Just wishing she was barefoot in the kitchen.


Seven-hundred and sixty-nine days remain.
Until our country’s next inauguration.
Each fraying thread another situation.
And all we’ve lost, has time passed to regain?

A party ponders life beyond its head
But who among shall rise to raise the voice
That offers still a right, but saner choice,
Or stay aboard the sinking ship instead.

We’re not the New York Times, but The Enquirer,
A dad held hostage by his psycho kid
For instant satiation of the id
A world not for the do-er, but the desire-er.

Against this backdrop of The Greatest Nation
A migrant child died of dehydration.


The scandals of sex got their start
Long before Donna Rice-Gary Hart
But excuse this behavior
In your sad orange “savior”
And you elevate cheating to art.


The charge of caring for what lies within –
A trust, protecting what belongs to “we”,
And letting lands and waters simply be,
Beyond who wish the auction to begin.

Not so for Secretary Ryan Zinke,
Removing long-time staffers from their station,
To better put the “con” in conservation.
And profit making air and water stinky.

But come next year he too goes out the door
Perhaps to join the fuel and fracking forces
To lobby for the deals he now endorses.
How nice investigations are in store.

Yet still salute this former Navy Seal,
A man who’d truly rather fight than feel.

The bad news, it seems, never ends.
Without warning depression descends.
While troubles abound,
There’s Joy to be found
In Good Food, Good Music, and Friends.


Resolved and standing proud, he’ll shut it down.
No wall? No problem. Call Pelosi’s bluff.
A time to show the world he’s got the stuff.
So easy lies the head that wears the crown.

Transparent Sarah Sanders says “hold on,
We’ll scrape up that five billion other ways”.
What happened to the line “Mexico pays”.
Like other campaign promises, it’s gone.

But hist’ry says that walls stand much for show.
And largely serve for ego and distraction
The smoke to blur corruption and inaction,
Abuse of those with nowhere else to go.

“Dirty and poorer”, so says FOX’s Tucker,
as sponsors slowly leave this racist (huckster).

Bonus Limerick (for no particular reason)
I need to erase from my head
The image of Woody in bed.
Young Englehardt’s depictions
Of erotic non-fictions
Are for me, I regret, best unread.


Michael Flynn hoped he had enough clout
To avoid prison, but now there’s doubt.
It looks like Judge Sullivan
Won’t give him a Mulligan
For his plans to sell his country out.


A rhyme to toast our soon departing Speaker.
Paul Ryan, your three tumultuous years
Did much to stoke environmental fears
And stroke the rich, while making poorer weaker.

Yes, please bemoan our “broken politics”
And carp about surging entitlements,
While handing over blank checks for Defense.
Let’s hope that your departure starts the fix.

You rode in on a promise to cut spending
And rode out on an awesome deficit
No room to pay for Medicare and yet
There’s always more for war that’s never ending.

Bad news? You’re unemployed. Expect a slump.
Good news? Hey, you no longer work for Trump.


The stock market’s tanking, and how!
The Government’s shutting down. Wow!
The right wing is grieving,
Jim Mattis is leaving,
Trump sez: “Who’s the Maddest Dog now?!”


Let the Trumpian Shutdown begin!
It’s a tantrum, regardless of spin.
And no wall, it’s sure,
Can keep us secure
From the chaos he spews from within.


Perhaps some fair questions are, “How
much soul was sold for Trump Moscow”,
and “Just what was meant
by his signing intent”,
and “What does this mean for us now?”


From all that we’ve seen

And all that we’ve heard

Ruth Bader Ginsberg

Is one tough old bird.


‘Twas the night before Christmas, and at the White House
Everyone was indicted except the Head Louse.
The lights were all out, and the cell phones were gone
In hopes that the Prez wouldn’t tweet from the John.
Ivanka and Jared curled up free from blame,
Though they spent the past year cashing in on their name.
And Mama Melania slept through the racket
Wraped up in her “I Really Don’t Care, Do You?” Jacket.

When the Justice Department erupted with clamor
As they bet on the next one to go to the slammer,
Away went the Congress, with government closed –
Who cares if it’s We the People who get hosed.
The market was dropping like new-fallen snow
Leaving hordes of short-sellers with eyes all aglow,
When what to my year-weary eyes did appear,
But a caravan led by illegal reindeer.
With a little old driver, so fed up and tired
By the end of the year, he would quit or get fired.
Like endangered eagles, they limpingly came
As I wondered who’d be left for Donald to blame.
First Sessions, then Zinke, then Kelly, then Mattis.
Giuliani is staying, but he’d work for gratis.
With Haley’s departure, the U.N.’s in limbo
But she’ll be replaced by some young FOX News bimbo.
It’s a fast-sinking ship – it’s a crumbling wall
So dash away, dash away, dash away all!

I was shaking my head and about to get drunk
Contemplating how low our great country had sunk
When Santa walked in – the old man got grounded.
His reindeer locked up and his sleigh was impounded.
Poor Rudolph got wounded – that ended his schleppin’
When a cop mistook his bright red nose for a weapon.
I saw Santa wince as he clutched at his back
And he grabbed OxyContin from out of his pack.
But still as a trouper, he took to his task
In between taking sips from a Royal Crown flask.
I handed him treats and he emptied the bowl,
In return though, he filled up our stockings with coal.
“You’re welcome” he grunted, and went on to say
“For this you can thank Donald Trump’s EPA.
The North Pole is melting and flooding out folks.
So glad Climate Change is a mere Chinese hoax”.

Then shrugging his shoulders and scratching his head,
He said “Hey, we’re done here, just go back to bed”
Then calling an Uber, he went down the block
With faint hopes of getting his sleigh out of hock.
But as he rode off, I heard Santa wail
“Merry Christmas is a greeting that’s too big to fail!”

Put yourself in that little girl’s shoes.
Yes or no, which one do you choose.
One’s disbelief crests
When our leader suggests
That Santa just might be fake news.


Misshapen narratives broadcast from borders
The images of various perspective
From fear to empathy to bald invective,
To uniforms with ever shifting orders.

A family that’s fleeing danger wild.
A family that’s seeking legal entry
A family that’s broken by a sentry
A family that’s burying their child.

Each story just as every heart, unique.
Unholy throng – by many viewed as such.
Not knowing if they’ll ever get to touch
The miracle of what it is they seek.

Each angle brings a channel that reports it
And fills the Babel Tower that supports it.


About his own bravery he bragged,
As his baggy-ass bomber coat sagged.
He lied to the troops
He called Democrats poops.
It’s a wonder he didn’t get fragged.


This shutdown is wrecking the mood.
New Year’s Eve may be somewhat subdued.
Trump’s golf will be played,
And congress gets paid,
While government workers get screwed.


With fake news, disaster and terror,
The world is not getting much fairer.
There still is some time –
Contact Amazon Prime –
This year was delivered in error!

This whiplash tour de force of world events
A weary’d year of many and of much,
And yet so sadly lacking in the touch
That points us to a way that might make sense.

So wide, so deep, the space that lies between.
And now that chasm, globally connected,
Can rock to dust the best that we’ve erected,
And only then, lament what might have been.

A year at closing time – a cycle ending –
A fixed point source of infinite potential.
In some small way a choice that’s reverential –
Absorb and dare to radiate the mending.

If it no longer serves, wring out the old.
Weigh what you feel beyond what you are told.

November, 2018


This Day to celebrate All of the Saintly
Not just the ones we know by heart and name,
But Secret Saints as well, who just the same
Are present in our lives, however faintly.

Those unnamed Saints who give beyond their due
And love despite the urge to deeply hate
And in small ways, endure a Martyr’s fate
While making clear another step for you.

Some gone too soon before we quite awaken
And others, quiet, hidden in plain sight
Their gentle presence in the face of might.
A light to other paths far better taken.

Oh Saints, in honor of your perfect timing
I offer you today my humble rhyming.


From violence race hatred condones,
In Kentucky, hear two families’ moans.
Damn the shooter’s claims.
Just remember the names
Maurice Stallard and Vicki Lee Jones


In Georgia, a big legal fight
Helped restore a citizen right.
Now the Sec’ty of State
Won’t determine the fate
Of 3,000 votes Tuesday night.


On a road trip before Voting Day
For a little North Coast getaway,
We acknowledge the dangers
Of chatting up strangers
And not knowing quite what to say.

For the times until Tuesday are tense
And while some folks might be on the fence,
Between redwoods and pines,
We see campaign signs,
With a number of them for Trump-Pence.


Those Democrats – they brought about the schism.
They and the press are tearing us apart.
And if elected soon enough they’ll start
To bring you gun control and socialism.

They’ll welcome in a sea of brown invaders
With Soros pulling strings behind the scenes,
To flood the voter rolls with welfare queens,
Then staff the government with freedom haters.

Those Democrats are bad and must be beaten.
They dream of surfing in on blue-ish waves
Fueled by their gangs of women, Jews and slaves.
With what’s at stake, we’re not beyond some cheatin’.

A referendum as a midterm race.
Tomorrow, see you at the Polling Place.


I cheer the end to daily quests for donors,
And endless stacks of unread campaign mailers.
Goodbye to all you online rant-&-railers
And nightly calls from pesky robo-phoners.

Those strategists with shocking revelations
About opponents, on the radio,
Distorted claims that just make noses grow.
It’s voting day in our divided nations.

By mail, in person, or to choose Abstain.
Like Background Actors clinging to their roles,
The News will show us heading to the polls,
But Red or Blue, true power will remain.

Tonight, percentage, pundits and projections.
Tomorrow, hope for positive directions.


In elections, some win and some lose.
It’s America. We get to choose.
But still just the same,
Could someone explain
Steve King, Brian Kemp & Ted Cruz.


On colored folks, he came down hard.
Kicked pot smokers out of his yard.
He tightened the border
Was a stickler for order
But still, it’s “Bye Bye Beauregard”


America’s Free Press is free no more.
The softball questions are more Presidential
Push harder and risk losing you credential
The threat of truth leads Trump to bar the door.

He pouts and hurls invective from the stage.
Shows doctored footage highlighting aggression,
Removes the critic who is his obsession.
For journalists, a new and darker page.

As Donald offers more self-serving fiction
The Fifth Estate is wrong to be polite
Fake news is never fake when it is right,
So here’s some praise for Jim Acosta’s friction.

And if Dear Leader chafes from the humanity,
There’s always hugs and kisses from Sean Hannity.


Deadly Fire.

Tragic Shooting.

System Failure.

Try Rebooting.



Shallow. Self-centered. A liar.
Drags studied discourse through the mire.
A bully, a coward.
Some say golden-showered.
Has the gall to blame us for the fire.


My father rarely spoke about the war.
But in his voice, when with his fellow Vets,
I heard the tones of pride, mem’ries, regrets,
And silence for the ones who gave much more.

In combat, brave and bloody truths revealed.
A common thread throughout our history.
But why is an enduring mystery.
What is it of this lure of battlefield.

An old man sits alone in a cafe,
His coffee and his ‘Nam cap both displayed.
I ask the server – tab’s already paid.
I shake his hand and thank him on his day.

In Flanders fields, where still the poppies grow,
Lie countless stories we will never know.


In Florida, what is the score.
Just tally them up, I implore!
We must know the amount,
And make every vote count.
(Depending on who it is for).

In Midlothian, fearing the worst,
Into Manny’s Blue Room, Police burst.
In crime fighting school,
The unspoken rule
Seems to be – “Shoot the Black guy first”.

It feels like a new line’s been crossed.
We can never add up the true cost.
Things will not be the same
But still, pray for rain
And the victims of Paradise, lost.

The OED word of the year
Sums our current state up very clear.
“Toxic” waste, air and deeds.
“Toxic” breaking news leads.
“Toxic” politics, people, and fear.


A trickle, slow, we see the Blue Wave rising
New faces face a process very old,
The space between the written and the told.
(And what is this the Right is so despising?)

A margin, slim, but still the margin’s yours.
A chance, a time for charting fresher courses,
Or serve the will of great financial forces.
We know well your againsts. What are your fors.

A clock. Oh no, much more an hourglass.
And here it seems, a chance to stanch the flow.
For if not here, where else is there to go?
No more to face this sitting on our ass.

The suffering of many, caused by the few.
It’s time to see the good that we can do.


The smoke, loss and death are mind-numbing.
In shelters, on cots, folks are slumming.
They’ve had all they can take.
You brought them a rake.
Very thoughtful sir, thank you for coming.

There are folks on both sides who agree
That Whitaker’s wrong for A.G.
A scam-ridden past,
Wants Mueller gone fast,
But Trump sez “He’s just fine for me.”


Commander In Chief gave the order.
His Country was under attack.
He marched his troops to the border,
And then he marched them back.


The captured sounds, as horrid as they are,
bear witness, as should you, the captured victim.
Who called it? What World Court would dare convict him.
Who stands for us to say “This time, too far”.

Bear witness. Stand tall to hear his ending,
The fifteen men and bone saw that were sent,
and ask yourself if this is what you meant,
this message to the world that you are sending.

Pompeo’s truth cuts through just like a knife.
The powers of this world do not play nice.
Our friend, our ally, comes at such a price,
and in it find the value of a life

Oh MbS, pray, what do you possess
to make our Fearless Leader acquiesce.

To lead with a heart that’s forgiving
And toast both departed and living,
To share the abundance.
May life be a fun dance.
A day both for Thanks and for Giving.


The Climate Assessment has tried
To report that the world’s getting fried.
The White House, to grease it,
Decides to release it
Today when we’re preoccupied.


To an island quite far out of reach,
Sent by God about Jesus to teach.
His waterproof Bible
Was shot by the tribal
And they buried him out on the beach.


In caravans from what was home they fled
From brutal gangs and from corrupt police
To where their children may some day find peace,
To leave behind the mem’ries of their dead.

We greet them here with troops and razor wire.
Residuals from our Honduran coup,
To stay or flee – who knows what one would do
Run from or straight into the bleeding fire.

What in us lets a place like this exist.
Outrageous sums of cash from drugs and guns.
The darker fuels on which the engine runs
Fund governments that only rule by fist.

The deals that shape the world we’ll never know.
Democracies exist mostly for show.


The caravan’s coming en masse
But nobody gets a free pass.
We need to keep order
At our southern border.
Thanks for coming. Here’s some free gas.


With Cindy Hyde-Smith, it’s been found
Her racist allusions abound.
If awakened souls
Can get to the polls,
In the Senate, she won’t hang around.

What falsehoods had Manafort said.
What info was Wikileaks fed.
What agreements were breached
What compromise reached
To whom, how much bullshit, was fed.


Life expectancy’s down, they confess.
Thanks to problems too big to address.
There’s no sign of a cure,
But one thing’s for sure,
We’re paying a lot more for less.


The Fixer’s time is over. Things are broken.
He’d take a bullet for him, once he said,
But Cohen cops another plea instead,
Admitting, yes, to Moscow he had spoken.

And then, that dirty trickster Roger Stone –
The conduit from Trump to WikiLeaks
(Tho Trump will say he knows not of what he speaks.)
Of course. Not with a mentor like Roy Cohn.

Forget the wall. It’s time to put up fences
A distancing from Flynn and Manafort
And all the things admitted to in court.
The waiting game as sentencing commences.

Who cares. Besides, collusion’s not a crime.
We’ll find out soon enough. It’s Mueller Time.

October, 2018

Of the money that Donald Trump had,
How much of it came from his dad
Through fake corporations
And sly tax evasions.
There are some who might say fraud is bad.


Oh Beer, thy crisp and ever golden hops,
Release me from the pressures of my studies
And lose me in indulgence with my buddies.
(A curse on he or she who called the cops.)

You give me courage as I bear my soul,
All sloppy, combative and belligerent.
Help me express these truths I really meant,
While clinging to the Court as highest goal.

How dare you hint that I was blacking out
When stature and rich privilege prohibits it.
Though more admit my past exhibits it,
God bless the shield of white male doubt.

I lie, perhaps. But still, just superficial.
Cannot you see my temperament Judicial?

In Ole’ Miss, “45” told his base
Blasey-Ford did not have a case.
That insensitive mocking
Even for him was shocking.
Those remarks were a classless disgrace.

He was young. He was drunk. He was jokin’.
And his life now is “totally broken”
Maybe so. The poor dear.
But we’d sure like to hear
From those folks, to the Feds, have not spoken.


Dear Senator, tonight I’m calling you
To ask, despite what you’ve been told
To challenge history and to break the mold.
To not confirm that man who loves his brew.

Our times, incendiary and divided
So desperately need a voice of reason.
His confrontation, rage suggesting treason,
The coarse attacks his “victim tears” incited.

This man is clearly from the Corp’rate State.
Deliver us a clear voice for the People.
Keep separate the Flag and Church’s steeple.
Don’t let brute force dictate our legal fate.

To claim your vote, some see a process rushed.
Who gains from valid testimony, hushed.


There are too many thoughts for these rhymes.
Heavy hearts. Action plans. Dreams of crimes.
Yes, that battle is through.
But what else is true.
My. These are in’tresting times.


Something happens not quite unexpected.
Red eyeballs stare addicted to the feed.
Heart sinks or rises based on what to read.
Another episode. For many, truth deflected.

I see a disillusionment around me.
A need to turn away, a vow to vote,
Another chance (or is that all she wrote).
As others, thoughts of “next” confound me.

But counter to the shout is not more shouting.
The note, the line, the sacred, blind intention
A space of peace to still the mind’s contention.
A fearless gesture made despite a doubting…

Resist the urge to become what you read.
What is your narrative beyond the feed.


A corrupt oligarchic elite
Jammed agendas through, using deceit.
But voters remember,
And come next November,
(a) They’ll all walk away in defeat.
(b) They’ll all get a boot in the seat
(c) They will just be a pile of dead meat
(d) Trick or Treat, they can come smell my feet.
(e) They’ll be peddling lobbyist teat.
(f) They’ll speak at an alt-right meet-&-greet.
(g) Their take-over won’t be complete.

Nikki Haley was put to the test.
Tho true, she was never the best.
Climate change, Human Rights,
Refugees. Global plights.
In her place soon will be Kanye West.


The right wing fake news pool insists
That a war on white men now exists.
But detainment and slaying
On rise might be saying
The Global War’s on Journalists.


The Media. The Democrats. George Soros.
The triangle of Liberal deception.
With any song they sing, beyond reception.
Paid activists and sheep provide the chorus.

Who needs the most these words above ring true.
The holders of the reins since reins’ inception
Who’ll take by force what lags through sheer deception.
The soulless force which seeks to but accrue.

A blissful ignorance at any cost.
The fearful cling to ever darking Oracle.
Ignoring inconvenient trends historical.
And in that fear, humanity is lost.

America, your pioneering spirit.
The gain. The loss. The choice to weep or cheer it.

In Georgia, to fight voter fraud,
Brian Kemp applied methods quite broad.
To eliminate doubt,
“Exact match” or you’re out!
Mostly Black folk affected. How odd.

An ever-intensified cycle
Resulted in Hurricane Michael.
Climate’s great demonstration
Of obliteration.
What say you, denial disciple?


What a cool way to give Dems a lift.
Those new registrations – a Gift.
How many new faces
Will fill polling places
Because of pop star Taylor Swift.

When he’s finished his President Run
And looks back on the things that were done,
The sum of it all –
Like he told Leslie Stahl
“Know what? Doesn’t matter. We won.”


A story I heard struck me funny.
And if it is true, it’s a honey.
In Microsoft tech,
What was called “SPAM Project”
Was short for “Spend Paul Allen’s Money”.

An interrogation that went wrong.
Or so goes that sad Saudi song.
No need to get real.
You’ll screw the arms deal.
Just go along to get along.


Goodbye to the suit Don McGhan
Who helped quite a bit with the plan
Of appointing judges
With right-leaning grudges
Stacking courts for the White Corp’rate Man.

In the Senate, that prune-faced old Mitch
Helped push through tax cuts for the rich.
The payoffs from where?
SSI. Medicare.
If you don’t vote, you’ve no right to bitch.


Of good news, we don’t have a lot.
Vote suppression. Democracy rot.
Saudi murder excuses.
Those “proud boys” abuses.
But in Canada, there’s now legal pot!


So many twists to how he met his fate,
Accepted, not to spoil the deals pending.
But each one still leads to the grisly ending:
His death inside the Saudi consulate.

New revelations bring forth lies and guesses
To justify our so-called allies’ acts
While money washes clean the bloody facts.
That sacred cleaner of unholy messes.

And he who lauds and loves despots and thugs
Sees how they handle journalist dissent,
Looks on in envy at this sad event,
(And billions versus Yemen lives), and shrugs.

To read and watch it’s hard to not turn numb,
Or justify this thing that we’ve become.


A Senator, name of Ted Cruz
Has allegiances that can confuse.
Trump insulted him bad,
Dissed his wife and his dad,
But is still an endorsement to use.

If from nuclear pacts he resigned,
What new deal does Trump think he’ll find.
Gorbachev sent rebukes
When Don said “yes” to nukes.
This is “not the work of a great mind”.

It’s sad when the average Joseph
Sees the climate become so corrosive.
You want to give up
When the phrase “Lock her up”
Turns into “Send her an explosive”.


At first they said he walked out quite unharmed.
Denying any mayhem there or trouble
But then admitting to a body double
When his poor wife-to-be became alarmed.

And then, word of a choke hold gone awry,
A fist fight that broke out by accident.
Rogue agents, on their own, with ill intent,
But still they did not mean for him to die.

And no, the Prince did not seek his rendition,
Or bone saws brought to an interrogation.
Besides, this stuff goes on in every nation –
Dissension death a long and proud tradition.

Okay. We did it. Now what will you do.
Premeditated, yes. But then, by who?

So they’ve now got a van and a name,
Bringing end to this pipe bomber’s game.
After one week of fear,
I’m anxious to hear
Of how George Soros is to blame.

Most mornings I check out the buzz
On her radio show, because
Amy Goodman is Wow!
But Democracy Now
Is more like Democracy Was.


America, this road to being great
Is taking us to interesting places.
A landscape filled with fists and angry faces,
Of flaming words and deftly nurtured hate.

These targets, Democrats and Blacks and Jews
Denounced by pundit and from bully pulpit,
And coded phrases from that Orange Culprit.
Conspiracies that drive a man to choose

To take up arms. Build bombs. To start a war.
Some twisted view of purity as goal,
To justify a rotting of the soul,
Returning to a never-was Before.

These bloody acts of our collective fall.
No false flag here. There is no flag at all.

Each day there is troubling news
From about any angle you choose.
But I get a big grin
When I read “Red Sox Win!”
Even more when I read “Dodgers Lose!”


This is the Greatest Story Being Told
Each moment brings a chapter to unfold
But who amongst us gets to do the telling.
A bloody narrative, with too much yelling.

The twisted faces. Wild gesticulating.
Look closely. See – It’s Death they’re celebrating.
And in return, beyond Resistance strife,
Make time each day for celebrating Life.

Beware the ones who’d suck away your joy
Through each destructive tool in their employ,
Out of allegiance to some force above.
Just stand your ground, and dare to fiercely love.

These madding times, a weight of rage and fear.
Reflect and ask, “what else is true, my Dear.”

Eleven times Eleven
And then Eleven still
And so the matrix of a loss
That stems from one man’s ill.