Electronic Conjunction

to vilify and stir up hatred against him
Put him down like an animal
Lawyers for Facebook argued that it was
neither necessary nor proportionate
a global anonymous browsing system
heavy fighting between rebels and government troops
Thousands of Egyptians protested against President
spill hazardous chemicals into the water, authorities said
A cold November night warmed the hearts of America
when a candid photo spread on the internet
the airport was open but no flights were operating
Marines are already using solar panels
Oh, going to poetry live has made me
she forbade me
they have clever ways of using and putting
words together

Grass Turns Yellow For Lack of Sun

She'd be warm in a fuzzy sweater and wearing a Muscovite fur cap
In her kitchen and her bedroom
She would be warm
And she would make me warm
With her smile and her excitement
I'd be compelled to grab her in my arms
My breath would warm her ear
Her word would stoke my furnace
That would be romance. Romance is for the young,
I write this from November
From this place, romance is very far away
Impossible to see with the naked eye
Or in the song of a bird hell-bent on stabbing
Some last dregs of dirt crawling things
On the way back to the nest of twigs and dead grass
Is it any wonder all the superheroes of this planet
MUST wear disguises or be set upon
When they least expect it?
Not only them, but their loved ones also.
No wonder the marriage rate is so low
Among caped crusaders and women flying invisible jets
The same goes for all the washed out and burnt to a crisp
Nothing left to give
So t'would seem to the casual observer
In their times of healing
Must look quite uninspiring
Three days in a tomb or the belly of a whale
Not the most heroic stance
Not the knight readied with lance
To charge the lonely dragon
In it's cavern of solitude
How should we then attend to all the scratches and scrapes we have earned in this endless summer of misspent frivolity? I don't feel the need to mourn the dead, better they should mourn for us, the living. It is us to carry their memory everyday UP & DOWN the hills and freeways. It is us whom must live up to their once upon a time heroisms. Let them come down and show us how to survive this world they have left us. Don't get me started on the interest rates! Let them show US how to form a more perfect union or build a better mouse-trap. This is no small rant and there is implied no recant for the counting of electronically produced snapshots of votings and dotings, for everybody knows a house is not a home without a Boston Terrier and there could not be any US without the All involved and Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without some tofurkey and some mistletoe so we move on into the winter with fond memories in our hearts and beautiful visions sparkling in the prismatic splendor of love's eternal promise of love's eternal flame.

How Much Is Me?

When looking into the mirror
Under the fluorescent fixtures containted with *new* green bulbs

The DnB breaks across this app, though it's free It can still be cheap The cheapest decisions can deliver the most plagueristic effects If you take your eye off the ball FOR A SECOND THAT ball could bounce off an unsuspecting skull Son, that's what we call the 'bean ball' Believe you me My fine, dwaddle swaddled do-doddler, When two or more toddlers are involved It's what is known as a poo shoot Enter Henri, the best excuse ever made For fine, young ladies wearing boots & jeans There is no satellite to pull down the data Once you've thrown it to the high holy heavens Above the seas of oceanic excuses Wrapped in Sumo weedy bureaucracy with all her friends Spouting demonic phrases betwixt breaks Of nasal laughter forced through the meat grinder How could I ever fall in love with someone Who carries such heavy bags on her shoulders? She flips her ponytail over her porcelain chin To get up and begin again Her march into the darkness du jour Intrigued, as she is, with slimey things Her voodoo artwork is as lost on me As a pinot is to a night train connoisseur Why should I rush to aid those plunging Headlong over the cliff into this dark molasses? Why don't they call their friends in Manassas? Or pray to the Holy LLAMA of Brahma, As the asteroids are handing out their calling cards In the 7th inning stretch When the machines run continual glitch And all the heroines have been exposed To that long lasting final exposure In the museum of chronological photography Etched forever into the interior eye Of the mind Which allows the heart access to the skies

The Rider Approaches

Outcry and aggravation in the heart of the public eye
Here in the Land of the Free decisions are to be made
Brothers against brothers
Sisters against their mothers

Deciding if we'd be better off
Or if the worker should get a free pass
At the taxpayer's expense

The looters are creeping from the shadows
Reliant on suspicions that
the old watch dogs have gone to sleep

It's getting so bad, I went to the Air National Guard
To look for a civil aviation career
Alas, and forsoothe, for la gente, I've been deemed 'Too old',
once again as is always been the case with convenient excuses
As these are applied to the truths Of the public pie

'There's not enough to go around!'
'Everybody wants THAT job!'
'Gotta take what choo can get!'
So on and so forth

This isn't very American, if you ask me
May I review the application for Lewis and Clark?
Didn't any of your silver spoonies get a break
Before they were a half a century old?
Doesn't experience count as education?

We all have a life to live
The operative noun being Life
If you don't support Life
You don't get my vote
If you lurk through the shadowy regions
It'll stick to your clothes and stink up your hair

I don't know anybody who would choose Pain and misery
That must fall under the heading
Of 'whatever floats your boat, ladies.'

After November 6th my prayers will remain the same
That we remain, One nation under God
With Liberty and Justice for all
& we don't start striping
The Constitution down
To a cheap little footnote
In our profit and loss columns