Syllables Endure

Time is of the essence
But labels can lie languidly
Unaware of grapes
Being funneled into
Waiting mouths

Labels rule the day
Treated like royalty
“I’m a Kantian”
“I’m a post-structuralist!”
“I’m a liberal!”
“I’m a conservative!”

I’m a puffer fish!
I’m a Ferris wheel!

Such contentment
Too many labels to count
Share the wealth!


Mar-a-Lago, The Citadel of Hypocrisy

A dictator sucked on his thumb
To make the masses acquiesce
They mirrored a broken defeated figurehead
A fallen man that
Landed on the top of the world

At the top, the winter white house
Built on the ruins of the a rejected palace
A gloved hand raised
The fish was sent back
Lights were dimmed
Security was given a pass from grace

And so they all slept the night away
Bloated with the stars
Properly cooked fish
Which infused them
With an unearthly zeal


Kim Jong-un just isn’t hungry

The delicacies were done for the night
Various foods in subtle sauces
Imported from wherever, whenever
Too much left on fine china
Or just congealing

Some uttered carefully
Such waste would stir little controversy
He looked rational today
Stone cold and vaguely competent
The qualities of leader

On the balconies
Nooses were being readied
(He preferred “Neese”)

So sorry
The neese were being readied
For the nightly festivities
As the oysters started to smell
More than a little fishy

He sent someone to take care of the smell
To keep the focus on the entertainment
All the wonderful performers

But it was too late
The smell had leaked too far
Past the confines of the palace
Out to the public
About the wasteful practices of a dictator

Controversy didn’t mean anything
As words were accompanied by the rhythm
Of saber-rattling
There was no cause for anger
Or to perceive humor

At least one word was expunged
Just so many left to go


The Nuclear Option

It was about a month ago, we were talking about the nuclear option, which meant something entirely different in that context. Ah. The innocent days of Mitch McConnell and the threat of authoritarian takeover.

A blurb

[hospital interior]

His breathing mask filled with various fluids and he was determined to look upward. A manatee about to burst from the pressure.

Chess Games with Kim Jong-un

The horse was in its special place
Waiting for an eye’s kind glint
To move authentically
Or to please a great leader

But neither strategy was to hold water
The horse would drown if it claimed victory
And a discernible nod of the head
Would be seen as cowardly
Indicative of poor character

So the player on the other side decided to do something radical
To masquerade a heart’s demise
While moving with great courage

The Blindfold is Passed On

He strolled across marble porticoes
Lingered on sweeping terraces
Below rested
Everything a man or woman could wish for
Great halls quivering with sumptuous meats
And the bounty from a grey urban space

They had won the drawing of straws
These lucky people who at the moment
Had other plans

Swords created deadly X’s
Bows strained to make music
Heads butted together

A lord was spared
He could work in the kitchens
Pay off his debt
There was resentment there, though
A lordly petulance