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Wither Gutenberg

Final words
from the final chapter
of the last book ever printed
now that hard copy is officially dead

‘To be continued… ” it read

Delicious irony

A fitting requiem
for this closing chapter
of literary history

Or maybe tis a warning

A sentence of prophesy
if the entire world wide web
ever got permanently hacked
and all our precious
hand held devices
became pricey paper weights

Library doors would be unsealed

Book stores could make a come back

Is this a dream or nightmare?

Tis probably a question
of which generation hymn book
you grew up reading from



Oh Say Can’t You See

This rock I picked from the rubble

of the latest calamity

fits my hand so perfectly

I almost hate to throw it

at our oblivious enemy

Of course I am required

to avenge sins of the past

so I throw the projectile

and score a direct hit 

We scurry a hasty retreat into darkness

to avoid being payback targeted 

Everyone riding the cycle of hatred

A litany of futile gestures  

The whole eye for an eye bullshit rap

we as a species can’t ever seem to get past

throwing rock

Bird In A Box

I like my box
though I use to not
relish the restrictions
cause I had been indoctrinated
by the whole freedom myth

That “birds need to fly” bullshit

So one day I flew away

Crash landed

Bad choices

Shit happens

So I traded in my wings
for the safety of conformity

Now I like my box
and the security it brings

False as it may be

Since life does have a way
of seeping through
these little cocoons
and permeating
our orderly containers with stains

At least I still got
these crumbling walls
to keep me company

Since I did pay a steep price for them



So This Is Low Self Esteem

… one hundred pounds later
I have become the fat fuck
I never thought I would be

Obesity sort of snuck up on me

Denial will do that to you
but the mirror eventually
shatters our best self deceptions

Tough break for my enlarged heart
now struggling to propel blood through
gooey blubbery clogged arteries

At least this battle will be short lived

Then the arduous task falls to my pall bearers

Hopefully they will be in better shape
than the load they are hauling was

fat belly

Wither Americana

The MAGA legions
wear red threads made in China
and preach American exceptionalism
dispensing missives of ethnic nationalism
that have sparked conflicts
throughout history

Wrapped in red white and blue
the America First crew
eschews the world view
for a narrow myopic reality
that have fueled wars
throughout history

Peeking out from behind the wall
the protectionism mob
of anti globalism guardians
practice excessive tariff levies
guaranteed to wreck economies
that have led to recessions
throughout history

and so it goes…

Events will spiral out of control

Of course
those pulling the strings will profit

Strife will be the norm for the rest

Perhaps this time
our ignorance proves fatal

Death being the ultimate destiny
of all empires throughout history

bob dylan weatherman

Gender Blender

Went to the men’s room
for a quick pee

When quite unexpectedly
a she dude in a sequin dress
had the same action plan
in the urinal next to me

Could not contain my curiosity
I just had to sneak a quick peek
at the serpent mighty
rising from his thicket

Of course he caught my eyes
sizing up his privates

In my embarrassment
I muttered softly
“I’m not that kind of guy”

He hiked up his lace panties
and advised me and my homophobia

“Neither am I”

unisex bathroom

A Day In The Strife

The alarm clock tolls
earlier than I need

Out of bed I roll
with all my aches
and creaky joints
that scream out middle age

I feel old

Thread bare and worn

Way too much time spent
on self induced detours
that took me
to my home here in Nonessential

Not enough minutes left
for a course alteration
to offset the accumulation
of time wasting trips

Missing out on all the things
I should have done
and could have been
when I was young
and so full of potential

The die is cast
buried deep within
the sins of the past

For an aging plow horse
saddled down
with all these
useless regrets


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