
Angels in Disguise
Humanity,
a swarm of
mental midgets
riding piggy
back on
a giant
or two.
We use
the gifts
we were
given to
club the
piss out
of everything.
Dogs are
angels in
disguise sent
down to
soften
our hearts.

Humanity,
a swarm of
mental midgets
riding piggy
back on
a giant
or two.
We use
the gifts
we were
given to
club the
piss out
of everything.
Dogs are
angels in
disguise sent
down to
soften
our hearts.
Filed under poems & short jabs

I never
was one
to hang
out on
the corner
with the
guys chain
smoking &
exchanging obscenities.
Filed under poems & short jabs

I’m giving up
the ghost
turning in
my badge
making a
clean sweep
of it:
over the
years I’ve
turned in
the names of
7,436 people.
It started
when I
was young
three I
think
but I
might have
been a
little older.
Or younger
even maybe
two.
I started
paying attention
at an
early age
& I
saw right
off that
things weren’t
right.
What am
I saying?
I didn’t
turn in
any names.
But that’s
what I
would have
done if
there’d been
someone to
turn them
in to.
Instead I
logged them
away in
my head.
But so
many wrong
doings
stuffed away
in your
head turn
generic with
time &
the names
attached to
them
fade away.
They become
secrets &
then you
begin to
feel that
keeping so
many secrets
is wrong
& you
add your
own name
to the
list.
Snowden
Manning
Assange
these guys
know about
the toxicity
of secrets,
take it
from someone
who’s been
trapped in
the chamber
of horrors
since before he
could walk.
Filed under poems & short jabs

Here I
sit shadeless
in my car
on the
hill in
100-degree
heat under
a blazing
sun demanding
my muse
come pay
me a
visit.
And here
she comes,
floating down
thru the
Poplars.
Filed under poems & short jabs

Photo by Gail Albert Halaban
(a takeoff on a Bukowski line)
No one’s
waiting on
the far
side of
glory.
There’ll be
no victory
parade or
prancing elves
reading from a
scroll of
praises.
There’ll be
no homecoming,
children rushing
out to
meet you.
There’ll be
misunderstanding
& forgetfulness
investigations
empty hammocks
renunciation
& a
punch-drunk
inquisition.
So much for
glory &
its just
desserts.
So much for
the Land
of Plenty
& a
kind word
on your
death bed.
What were
you expecting
when you
raised the
flag &
marched off
into China?
When you
took the
pledge &
swore allegiance
with your
pants down?
A chance
to tame
the Beast
& return
love to
its rightful
owner?
Sometimes you
feel so
all alone
it just
feels right.
Filed under poems & short jabs

Blow smoke
into the
eye of
the cyclops.
Stick your
head in
the music
box &
turn up
the volume.
Wrap your
arms around
life &
kiss her
pustulant lips.
Show the
kids what
you’re
made of,
try to
fly.
Write a
book about
giraffes with
two heads.
Lay down
your weapons
& negotiate
with your
inflexible mind.
Filed under poems & short jabs