when I consider how my life was spent
not just playing bingo and paying rent
one thing for certain when it comes my time
when I leave this earth I won’t need a dime
there’s nothing else for a person to buy
cremation temperature is always quite high
each day’s a blessing, sometimes in disguise
for me to make my adventures into supersize
they say good comes to those who wait
I prefer surprises, it’s the waiting I hate
jesus said and I believe it’s true
for now, malicious incompetence
replaces nixon’s benign neglect
in our sacred christian democracy
our experts are searching gospels
for the exact supporting phrases
the 21st century knownothingparty
an ever faithful unshakable base
keeps america safe from preverts*
moslems, browns, blacks, slants
our party’s proud of its supremacy
grim reaper’s headed for sainthood
exemplary virtues, daily miracles
reminds us of what’s attainable
with diligence and family values
our dear leader simply must croak
in order to reap his true rewards
*Keenan Wynn uttered the term “preverts” in “Doctor Strangelove.”
Peeking through the soil.
Peeking through the branches.
Leaves, lovely leaves.
Growth.
Change.
Warmth.
Hope.
Reminder.
You are not here peeking around the blanket.
Early morning there is a scheduled pause
Save for the crickets and a freight train
Cars don’t break the streetlights’ beams
Waterfowl in the marshes are motionless
Dreaming of their magic predawn routine
Flapping wings and cacophonous songs
Darkening these skies with bursts of flight
Subliminally reminding folks deep asleep
This nearly silent interval is a treasured time
I look over to where you normally are,
Where you are supposed to be,
Where you always were,
Where I always looked.
But, you are not there.
Missing.
Missed.