Tag Archives: America

April 11, 2018 · 11:03 am

Back When Some Men Weren’t Rapists

I remember yesterday

When to look at someone was okay,

When an elbow or a shoulder touch

Didn’t mean nearly so much.

I remember yesterday

When a compliment would make her day,

When “you look nice” was not a slur

When casually said by him to her.

I remember yesterday

When a man held doors and asked to pay,

When a bit of gentle care

Was not met with a dour glare.

I remember yesterday

When a guy could idly say

“What’s your number?” and not fear

Her screaming “rape” for all to hear.

So if you remember yesterday

In the aforementioned way

And know its loss would lead to sorrow

Let’s keep the past in mind tomorrow.

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April 5, 2018 · 10:40 am

But The Microwave Is Silver…

The pot called the kettle black.

The kettle thought the pot was a racist kind,

But then kettle saw that the pot was black too

And, quoth the kettle, nevermind.

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April 3, 2018 · 11:01 am

The First Ever Skate-Park Graffiti Artist

Amidst the canyons of cement

I, with my board and spray-paint saw

Amidst the half-pipes, sad and gray,

A never-before-dreamt-of flaw.

For who would want to ride downhill

While listening to bands like “thrust” and “taint”

If there were no large bubble letters

Or titties drawn in low-cost paint?

And so I shook my can of blue.

My conscience whispered “make some art.”

And on the hill, for all to see,

In indigo I spelled out “fart.”

Inwardly proud I swallowed a sob

Then went back to congress to do my job.

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April 2, 2018 · 10:52 am

Impression: Los Angeles

I stood out here once before

Seeking what could not be found

Head to toe in the neon cloak of midnight

Listening for the absence of a sound.

I saw humans crawl past empty sidewalks

Burning gas and paying fares

On the way to work that will empower them

To buy their surplus worries and cares.

They seek comfort in a glasses, pills, and needles,

Pray for hope through a politician’s lies.

Paychecks promise them the satisfaction

Of being happy in someone else’s eyes.

Red-eye pilots flee this urban heaven

Carrying those with sense enough to flee.

I just read my scripts and idly wonder

What it’s like to see a real tree.

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March 23, 2018 · 11:32 am

Revenge

When you advocate

That slaves may chain tyrants,

That those who’re offended

May harm those who speak freely,

That hatred is evil

Unless evil you hate

Then forgive my cocked eyebrow

And my skeptical “really?”

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March 15, 2018 · 3:22 pm

Never Date A “Journalist”

I said “I can’t go dancing

Because of Plantar’s Fasciitis.”

She said “isn’t that when gardeners

Vote for Trump just to spite us?”

I laughed a bit too much I guess.

I thought it was just banter.

Now I’m mocked on Buzzfeed

For being a fascist planter.

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March 10, 2018 · 9:08 am

The Shape Of Water

Last year the guys in Hollywood

Passed on the script I submitted

Wherein a disabled janitor

Masturbates and gets her throat slitted.

Now the very same movie

Wins the Oscar for picture, best.

If only I’d introduced a lizard love-interest…

It’s all in the details, I guess!

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March 4, 2018 · 1:19 pm

Or You Mite Be Letting Siri Type Four Ewe

If you prey at a alter

And like you’re time their,

You watch the news and think

That how the world works isnt fare,

Youve misplaced yor resume

But will happily give you the jist

Than you might bee looking four jobs

Via a web sight like Craigslist.

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February 19, 2018 · 5:54 pm

Was There Ever A President Hank? ‘Cause That Window’s Probably Closing…

Today’s the day we celebrate

The presidents half of us hate,

The two or three good ones we got

And the fifty-some we all forgot.

We do not have gifts or a meal.

There is no spirit that we feel,

But it’s a day off so we thank

George and Abe and prob’ly a Hank.

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February 18, 2018 · 9:47 am

The Problem With Democracy (My Perspective Matters More)

“Do you see what I see”

Is a stupid thing to ask,

For though the subject we both see

May be a boot or flask

I see it in the sunset

Flanked by gorgeous fall of night

But by virtue of an angle

You see it framed by walls of white.

I can see what you see

And you can see what I.

We can say “that is a boot”

Though we each use a different eye.

So why not on social matters

Cannot we likewise more agree

That if a thing’s more beautiful

To you than ’tis to me

That the thing itself objectively

Is, regardless, unaffected?

Because it doesn’t help dividers

Unite short-sight to get elected.

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