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October 20, 2017

Poetry

King John

John is what hookers call Their customers in this land. They make him feel like a king And tell him he is grand. They fuss over him like royalty As long as he pays the bills. His habits can make stomachs turn. He’d be dead, if looks could kill. King John, the biggest sleaze To

You, Not Me!

We are a huge nation of modernity With a convenient sense of equality That lets us hold hand on heart And before the game will start Talk about the land of the free Yet apply those words selectively. This same kind of mindless fool Urges others to live the Golden Rule. You, not me! It’s

The Tower Of Lies

Assembled to dissemble Congregated to prevaricate Misleading all misdeeds Associates to discriminate When nobles are ignoble And hit us with a low ball That baits and switches And then laughs at us all Applauding each other And singing their own praises Then giving themselves huge Unconscionably large raises It means we have lost sight Of

The Usurper King

The Usurper King Had trouble sleeping. He knew just how many Criminals he was keeping; Salaried and dedicated To robbing the populace And using very ineffective And obvious kinds of artifice. The Usurper King Remembered what he did To take the throne away From the duly chosen kid And he saw what he had Been

Parenting 2015

Dress your girls To be a street walkers Teach your boys To become trash talkers. Why should they undergo The first twelve years or so With no solid understanding Of prostitution and manhandling? So paint her face And shorten her dress. Copy the working girls Make her an immoral mess. All that is important is

Memorium

Helpless, when so many have died. Can we do nothing but hurt inside? Those can’t go home, no matter who cried. Yet we never set those guns aside. We listened while politicians lied And even when some of us tried Too many took up the other side And insisted they were on the right side

DumpATrump

All the Trumps Make them live At the city dump. Take their money Every single clump. Get rid of that Ugly orange hump. Now we all know for sure What greed sounds like when it talks. We have no more doubt We know how it looks when it walks. But some people still need More

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