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June 25, 2018

To My Fans

by Sir Philip Burne-Jones, 2nd Bt, oil on canvas, 1899

I want to write my fans
Some more lines about kissy face
And beautiful flowers and lakes
And rainbows all over the place.
But, it is difficult to do today
Because I hear a sadder tune.
We have elected to take office
A few hundred crazy buffoons.

They are turning our country
Into a place of us and them.
And thermonuclear holocaust
Will be a crazy person’s whim.
A megalomaniac playing soldier
With absolutely no regard
For the outcome of his madness
Makes pretty poetry too hard.

It’s extremely hard to come by
And harder yet to conceive
Because true poetry and art
Only come when we believe
And nothing about our fates now
Are anything other than incredible.
What the GOP has cooked up
Is nowhere close to edible.

To me writing fluffy words in rhyme
Is much like Nero and his fiddling.
I can’t just tap dance for the toffs.
I mean, who would I be kidding?
So, don’t expect hearts and flowers
Or many lovely June, moon tunes.
A completely stupid country has left
Us in the hands of bull goose loons.

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Brent Kincaid
Brent Kincaid, born in Kansas City, Missouri just before WWII ended, moved to Hollywood in 1967 to pursue a career as a singer, actor and freelance artist. A gay man all his life, he began to take gay pride issues seriously and marched in the first Pride Parade in Hollywood in 1970. As years went by, he kept writing poetry, and painting while maintaining employment at a series of jobs over the years, finally moving to Kauai, Hawaii in 2003 where he now works as an artist and writer. He has been published nationally and also recently in The Blue Route. In his work you will find he is politically motivated as well as a teller of stories about the America in which he grew up.
Brent Kincaid

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