Fodder for Felons

Mar-a-Lago’s a henhouse

guarded by foxes

with top secret files

in taped cardboard boxes

Classified docs

spread all over the floor

fodder for felons

trying to even the score


Millions of lost souls

and Q-cultist bigots

they lap up the lies

from electronic spigots

Looking for purpose

while grasping at straws

praising their savior

despite all his flaws


Empty of knowledge

full of deep longing

Q fits the bill

and their need for belonging


Fingers raised up

they sing and they sway

“The storm is-a-coming”

and so’s judgement day


Engaged in a story

which casts them as heroes

too dumbstruck to know

that they’re dancing to Nero

drinking the Kool-Aid

they’re dope-sick on Q

freebasing lies

and shouting fuck you


There’s fear in not knowing

how this will end

how far Q is going

to strongly defend

the lies of a con man

unwilling to bend

Rise Up

Don’t you ever get

so tired

of all the bullshit

in the air


Politicians

always wired

pretending hard

that they still care


Don’t you long

to get inspired

get this train

back on the track


Aren’t you sick

of being mired

never forward

always back


We’re in need

of revolution

a youth-led promise

towards a day

when our leaders

represent us

no corporate

interests

in the way


Aren’t you tired

of being berated

your world

twisting on a string

all the truths

interrogated

while the lies

go on to sing


Band together

form your power

march into

the voting booth

Turn the day

into your hour

cut down the lies

and raise the truth

What Shining City?

When did it become Ok

In America

for snickering governors

to play politics

with the lives of tired

and desperate human beings?


When did the light

from that shining city

on the hill

become a trick candle?


When did America

erect its Darwinian dome

of indifference towards

the tired and the suffering?


When did we drift from the

Give me your tired and poor

to a cold and callous

Let me show you the door?


When did we

start to fear and hate

the huddled masses

detesting them

while casting a cold

and stony shoulder?


When the humane

treatment of others

takes a backseat to

cheap political stunts

it’s time to look at

the soul of our nation

Tangled up in Black

In the alleys of your heart

In the backstreets of your brain

from the constant buzzing beltway

under rusted lock and chain


In the pain inside your sternum

the boiled marrow in your bones

lurks an ever-growing darkness

over jagged rocks and stones


In dark valleys of depression

and the not so grand delusions

In a vice grip of obsession

In your manic-plagued illusions


With a never-ending stipend

of more than you can bear

an abundant over-ripened

softened fruit

of deep despair


An undefined sad solitude

that something is amiss

always on that taunting edge

of a welcoming abyss


an open-ended sadness

a journey never-ending

exhausted by the battle plan

of constantly pretending


You’re looking for an exit

a respite from the black

An offramp from the sadness

a train that jumps the track


“I can’t believe he did it

I can’t believe he’s gone

no one truly knew

the darkness of his dawn”

Our March Towards the Gallows

Silhouettes and shadows

blurred pictures on the wall

we stumble towards the gallows

our walks turn into crawls

People start to gather

they’re screaming at the sun

hollow eyes and sunken cheeks

blinded, crippled, stunned

Cracked and hardened landscapes

fires all around

sunbaked souls

are full of holes

no water in the ground

Empty silos bellow

a sorrow fills the air

we turn to face our fellow man

and find that he’s not there

Trees that beg for water

dead branches in a field

a loss of social order

our weakened faith revealed

The warning signs were present

we looked the other way

as climate climbs

and mankind falls

what else is there to say?

Souls too weak to whisper

our words fold into prayer

the dead feed off the living

and dust becomes the air

Connectionless

Facebook and Snapchat

YouTube and Tik Tok

mad boys on Reddit

Lost sheep in the same flock


Millions of followers

with no one to lead

a whole generation’s

collective brain bleed


Communally living

in woke echo chambers

dimwitted dice-throwing

zombie-like gamers

Vid links and jpegs

the shallow and vain

everyone jumps on

the “look at me!” train


Looking for meaning

in meaningless places

we screen-scroll bikinis

and beautiful faces

With eyes gazing downward

we all barely see

 the world of the living

our humanity


More connected than ever

yet still isolated

we’re captive less active

we’re chained and we’re gated

Networked in sorrow

we borrow from pain

we search for tomorrow

with nothing to gain


We touch screens and tap links

but don’t touch each other

we sniff around porn sites

for sexy stepmothers

Adrift in the wireless

we’re glued to the cam

tireless voyeurs

we wolve for the lamb

From Classroom to Casket

Rose on tombstone. Red rose on grave. Love – loss. Flower on memorial stone close up. Tragedy and sorrow for the loss of a loved one. Memory. Gravestone with withered rose

From classroom to casket

an American journey

arrive on a school bus

depart on a gurney


As children lay dead

in Uvalde Texas

it’s hard to ignore

the obvious nexus

with unfettered access

to weapons of war

the number of dead

will continue to soar


We live in a land

of pierced hearts and sorrow

no shooting today?

just wait till tomorrow

In a fog of futility

explicably numb

we reach for our heartstrings

but there’s nothing to strum

Crap-casting Rogan and Young-loving Streamers

Crap-casting Rogan and Young-loving streamers

Fact-blasting moron, artists and dreamers

Free speech and fact breach, they dance and they stab

Truth in the morgue on a cold marble slab


Drip-drying wet naps on Vin Diesel’s Daisy

Popcorn and Pepsi with Martin Scorsese

Grifting and grafting on quaaludes and blow

Gaetz in sex traffic with nowhere to go


Oath Keeping Proud Boys, soldiers in waiting

“My Pillow hucksters” gaslighting and baiting

Fascists and fucktards fall from the sky

Democracy’s gone in the blink of an eye


Hopscotch and whiskey, Sorry and Twister

Rebellion and UNO with Vlad Putin’s sister

Records and transcripts get flushed in the can

Truth getting trumped by a fat orange man


Cow tipping junkies and pill-popping tweakers

Political flunkies in loafers and sneakers

Gazpacho Goosestepping Capital cops

Malevolent Marjorie, she never stops


Fuck headlines and deadlines

Bread, milk, and inflation

The next time you vote

for the soul of your nation

Carry integrity into the booth

Raile against liars

and vote for the truth

February, in the Warmth of the Morning Sun

I found a dead ladybug

on the sill of my window today

Just a few days prior

I witnessed her flying around my bedroom

and wondered,

trapped inside my sunny domicile,

with frost on the windows,

did she long for the warmth

of late summer days

and leafy plants on my kitchen patio?


She was a lifeless faded orange

hard, shiny, and smooth

her legs tightly tucked

into her flat underside

I slid her on to a piece of printer paper

carried her down the staircase

that goes from the bedroom to the kitchen

and placed her gently in a potted plant

in the warmth of the morning sun

Chrome Covered Rosebuds and Dyslexic Daisies

Chrome covered rosebuds and dyslexic daisies

Dirt-devil divas and wombats with rabies

Blue bloodless fem-bots

that drop from the sky

Misogyny dies in the blink of an eye


Dipshits in red hats with white MAGA letters

Grunge bands with new tats of Cobains and Vedders

Palm trees and face plants

a rip in the sky

Ginger loves Mary Ann’s Coconut pie


Deep-seated distrust and misinformation

Biscuits with deadbolts and sex doll inflation

Mad rants and just cants

a flask full of lies

The truth falls asleep to our sad lullabies


Sinatra and Martin, Carson and Rickles

Bone chips on blood-stained pennies and nickels

Douchebags and despots

About to ally

To map out our lives on the wings of a fly