Poems

Synged by the waning moon, hot, bruised, and Welty, Her condition was Kipling at first. Until her friend insisted, “Sitwell or stand up! Don’t be a laggard, or worse, a Stoppard.” And gave her a spank on the Heine. Talking to a Doctorow psychology, She knew she could either Dolittle or do lots. She was … Read more

There is little that’s sure On this frail, frail planet— And little that’s certain Or carved into granite… There’s death and there’s sufferings, Love’s unjustly spurned spasms, But little that’s sadder Than misplaced enthusiasms. Imagine a museum Unpretentious, not pompous That welcomes old strollers And toddlers who rompous, With no science, no art, Nor the … Read more

We‘re camped on Bitter Mountain, Where bitter are the views. Bitter is the coffee And bitter is the news. There’s lots of things to deal with But little you would choose. And when we seek creative sparks We find a bitter Muse.

We know T-Rex from its tiny claws Its hungry mouth, and its toothy jaws. But how can we assess T-Rump? Long after his first full-year stump His Twitter rants still flinch and jump. A creature walking o’er the earth In privilege stretching back to birth That claims ascendance overall And loves to brag and boast … Read more