Snow Day Exodus

Exodus Chapter 2 Verse 1-5

1. And lo, ye shall encounter many more obstacles
   
2. And try as thee might, the locust wood shall not succumb to thy saw.
3. Thou heavest mightily against the bough and yet it remaineth obdurate and immobile before thine efforts
   
4. And yet, brother, despair not, for thou hast a dutiful village
5. And the Lord hath endowed them with the power of the mighty Kubota.

Today, We Vote!

Today we hold the middle ground

Lest we make a prophesy

Of Yeats’ “Second Coming”-

“The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.”

Savage Waters

This disease leaves wounds,

rivers both wide and deep.

Too deep for fording

and much too wide for bridges,

so we build ferries

and brave treacherous waters,

holding connections

to our loved ones long estranged

by these savage waters wide.

A Tangle But No Tumult

Basking in the balm

of this fire sale we lit,

ashamed at my schadenfreude,

yet still gleeful, all the same.

Paltry Protection

Will, wit, and wisdom:

often all that stands between

fools and excoriation.

Charity or Wisdom

Listen Up, you grey old goat!

Your racist ways are history.

Does that hate not sere your throat?

That grossly overt bigotry

never fails to offend

younger,

compassionate,

thoughtful men.

But since we’re here within this lodge,

I’ll try to muster up some grace,

abide the precepts of wiser men

and curb my urge to pulp your face.

I’ll maintain regard unconditional

despite your beliefs, so unlovable.

His Master’s Voice?

They must think us dogs

salivating to their bells

doing tricks for tiny treats!

~

And how can they not

when we drool at every cue

playing games they tell us to?

~

Is there any choice?

After all, they hold the cards

and set the rules we must regard.

~

Why must we regard

their arbitrary edicts

when their only care

is their self-serving interests?

Bite the hands that feed, I say!

Ignore their strident bellows!

Exercise our every freedom!

Let us run across the meadows!

A Matins Prayer

Must there be drama

to christen every morning?

Can’t we vow and endeavor

to enjoy a silent dawn?

The Morning After

When cheers subside

And mournful sobbing ceases,

All that remain is more mess.

Civil Disobedience

This Election Day

Exercise uncivil rights.

Go drink his cup of coffee

Then cast your vote for the girl.

Evensong

Shrill

Inarticulate warbles

Muted in passage through walls

And woods.

Anger

Understood by tone

And cadence long before

Any sound clarifies to coherent

Words

Heat

Beat

hasty

Retreat

Words

Pulse

Thrumming temples

Dread descends with every step

Upward to that door

Where home fires burn

Doorknob

Chill beneath palm

Hand lingers

Warming brass

As crass language

And rage harass

His tired dragging ass

Inhalation

Exhalation

Knob turning

Welcome

Home

Procrastinator’s Crucifix

This is but a task

No more onerous than most

And yet we delay

Month after month after month

Crafting vast struggles from naught

On The Borderline Again

His smarmy tongue waggles,
weaving glowing gossamers, clouding hearts and minds
with mists of glittering unreason.

His garbled glossolalia

explains inexplicable,

defends indefensible,

justifies vast injustices.

Before his words, miasmas
of fecund decay shift,
begins to resemble aromas
of lavender and roses.

Venomously,

crass caresses

of slimy snake oil

conceal cuts of serrated steel.

Hope and reason succumbs
to resignation and despair.
Luminous hope drowns struggling
in seas of gilded sludge.

As growing thick dark shrouds

envelop all, he pauses,

draws breath, smiles.

In that instant his spells shatter!

Plug your ears, Ulysses!
There are no second chances.

Chaotic Good

Although we struggle

To exist in harmony

Often the ordered cosmos

Finds a few loose threads to pull