This is the tale of Brett KavanaughWhen he treated the Senate to Shock and Awe.He showed his mettle and bared his soulAnd tried his best to apply damage controlTo the growing number of damning reportsAbout his youthful penchant for lecherous sports.He stuttered and stammered and blubbered, poor guyAnd whined and … Continue reading
There is an old soldier named Flynn Who must wonder what trouble he’s in. Will there be repercussions For befriending the Russians? Or will Trump merely lie, wink, and grin?
You just have to know that I’m feeling low when the sun won’t shine and the stars don’t show. When the grass is brown and the tree is down and the prize ain’t mine and the circus left town. When the beer is warm and we have a storm and … Continue reading
The old man sits alone on the park bench, Knocking ashes out of his pipe onto the seat And looking over his left shoulder as if Waiting for someone special to show up. Except that he has no one special And even if he did they wouldn’t show up to … Continue reading
I’ve set myself a special goal. I want to clean up all the dirty limericks. I mean, really, it’s disgusting how many raunchy, distasteful, and totally useless bits of “poetic” trash there are out there. You’ve probably heard some yourself. Most people have, and my guess is that many of … Continue reading
You just have to know that I’m feeling low when the sun won’t shine and the stars don’t show. When the grass is brown and the tree is down and the prize ain’t mine and the circus left town. When the beer is warm and we’ll have a storm and … Continue reading
The sunsome longer days Are warming frozen trees, The ancient steady rays Becoming nature’s keys Unlocking fluid flow Within Earth’s giant plants. When southern breezes blow These creatures start their dance Of botanic celebration. Subtle sweet beasts of green Anticipate without cerebration; Make beauty not knowing they are seen.
You wrote these lines for me. You placed them here, on this paper, years ago. Their ink glistened for an instant, moist from your warm pen, then dried forever, for me. The vibrant blue curves and loops, circles and hooks, are evidence of your existence, proof of my sanity. I … Continue reading
In those days when each moment brought a fresh impression, a new opportunity to exercise analysis and judgment, there was an era when I served my apprenticeship in the craft of manhood. The strong and ancient compulsions of lust and desire, appetites and arousal, were easy to know though difficult … Continue reading
Digitus meant finger to the Romans and gave us our word digit which means finger too, but as years went by became a word for number, since fingers count things (crudely but ably). It takes most of the digits of one hand to write numbers on paper or even letters … Continue reading