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Tuesday, April 25, 2017

The Harvest

You are in charge of nothing
You bleed like all of us
People are making lists
For the designated executioner
We do not recognize your right to rule
All of you must die
Including your spawn
You planted these seeds
You will carry the harvest

To your graves

Burnt Toast

The flash mob erupts as would
A dropped hornets’ nest
A hundred hands juggling glass bottles
Filled with ethanol, gasoline, and accelerant
Fifty instant fire bombs ignite across the city
Guided by hatred and anger
The firestorm spreads its wings
Burn baby burn
The alarm clock screeches
Like birds in a cage
Burnt toast awakens the senses
Are you up? A woman’s voice
Cools the soul,
The eggs are done she says
I burnt the toast




Monday, April 24, 2017


American Exegesis

The Truth
You can’t handle the Truth
This is why in America
We have the Second Amendment
And the collective means
To utilize that amendment
Against all enemies both
Domestic and foreign
It is
We the People

Not we the Cabal Government

Alien Planet

The New York Rabbi had the errand boy
Pay the fee, another picked up the package
Straight from Africa, baby organs to be sold
Like chopped liver in a deli of sorts
Maybe there is something about
All that chatter, those whispers

But what? 

A New Day

And this too will pass
The stomach churns
The dogs play and scream
The roar of paws rumble from room
To room
A jet too low flies over
The windows rattle
The door bell rings at seven AM
The coffee suddenly is cold
Taxes are due
Death is in the neighborhood

A new day