CliffSongs

Outrage   You were given no guarantee at your birth. Toxins may find you through human miscalculation, mischance, Mischief. Toxins may find you by your own hand. Is their creation, capability, Availability, A matter beyond your control? Have you spoken out? Have you petitioned, marched, Occupied? Is there a point when outrage is too much?   You have no guarantee of carefree existence. Toxic persons may find you through range, rhetoric, Relation. Toxic persons may find you by your own druthers. Is their influence, intention, Instigation, A matter within your control? Have you gotten out? Have you parted, permitted, Paid? Is there a point when the outrage is too little?   We are supposed to have been guaranteed equality. Toxicity has found a seat in our governance, In the application of law, Throughout our House. Toxic persons believe they are more equal. Are their practices, performances, Perversions Matters within our co

  The Troll-In-Waiting   He’s out there. Some of you have seen him. He’s testing the waters. He’s probing for the soft spot. He may give you the sly whisper: A hint that your intellect may be in question.   He’s allowed to say that; it’s just his honest take.   He’ll make sure you’re aware of those things. The troll-in-waiting has no patience for decorum, no. That’s restrictive; surely you see that. Politeness and civility don’t allow him to be his true self. If you can’t handle his openness and sincerity as is, Why, that just demonstrates your weakness, doesn’t it? The troll-in-waiting has some thoughts about reporting accounts for trolling. He wants to know who made you judge and jury? He wants to know if all honest opinions are going to be flagged. He wants to know where it will all end. He wants to know who you think you are anyway, Elon Musk?   The troll-in-waiting thinks you have some nerve replying to his reply on your post. It’s just hi

  The Vacant Party   What is this subservience to death? How can someone ignore children, Cut down by a maniac? What motive drives the lack of horror? Money. Blood money. Riches strangle compassion. The abandonment of empathy Is to give up humanity, And become a thing, Ravenous, Empty, Impossible to satisfy. All the gold in the world Will not fill the hollow, Where the heart used to be. The only emotions left are bitter, Craven, Grasping, And envious of everything not possessed, Including the discarded grace No longer understood, And too warm to hold again. Is it tragic? Yes. Is it repulsive? Also, yes. Can it be cured?   I just don’t know.   Cliff Lake 3/30/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023        

The Dead Souls   The apologists have arrived. The explainers. The faithful.   Andy Ogles let his soul die for a photograph. A family picture bearing arms. His children live. His soul didn’t make it.   What price for a conscience? How much influence buys the scruples? What allows them to whore themselves so willingly, With the scent of children’s blood in their nostrils?   They worship death. They fetish it’s instrument. They celebrate Christ’s birth, With gifts and portraits of bloodletters. They decorate their children, With the engines of termination.   How can they be human? They are zombies. They are unclean. Their souls have died. They walk among us. And get elected to office.   Cliff Lake 3/28/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  The Sacrificed   At the altar of the Second Amendment The sacrifices were supplied. From Uvalde: 21. What gain was made from this oblation? They were sacrificed for Ted Cruz’s wallet.   Still the altar thirsts.   For the Church of the NRA The sacrifices were furnished. From Club Q: 5. What dividend from this offering? They were sacrificed for Lauren Boebert’s Christmas card.   Still the church passes the plate.   For the congregate of white supremacy There was made a gift in blood. From Tops: 10. What return from this tribute? They were sacrificed for a parade in Charleston.   Still the congregate hungers.   For the right to own killing machines Sacrifices have been made and made. In Chicago. In Parkland. In Vegas. What was gotten by way of these sacrifices?   They were sacrificed for nothing. Nothing.   And I have nothing more to say… Until the next time. Until next time…   Cliff Lake 3/28/2023 Copyrig

I Want to Know Or Cliff Asks: What the Fuck?   I want Ted to explain it to me. I want to hear the excuses, That are so useless. I want Ted to lay it all out. I want him to use small words, And the Bible. I want Ted to make me feel, As safe as he is. I want Ted to show me, That he isn’t bought and paid for, By the sellers of children’s lives. I want Ted to stop being a fucking lunatic.   I want Lauren to make it make sense. I want Lauren to make sense. I want Lauren to help me understand. I want Lauren to understand. I want Lauren to think of the children. I want Lauren to stop being a child. I want Lauren to stop baiting liberals, And loosen the fuck up. I want Lauren to go to a committee, And make a difference, Instead of a fool of herself. I want Lauren to do her job.   I want Kevin to help me figure it out. I want Kevin to tell me what he’s doing, Instead of talking so much, And saying nothing. I want Kevin to clean

  Nashville Mondays   Just another Monday in Nashville… Trees are budding, Musicians are playing in the streets, Children are gunned down in their school. Just another Monday in Nashville. Second Amendment rights were exercised. Many firearms were present. None of the weapons used were traded to a cartel. Thank God for that. Now the border is more secure, Or something. This will be explained by Ted, And Lauren, And Marjorie. I hope they meet the parents in person. Just another Monday in Nashville… Where a young woman has an assault rifle, For each hand. And a backup handgun just in case. In case she missed with the others. She was the pride of the NRA. Was. Now she’s a dead killer. A legacy of infamy. The new American Dream. Just another Monday in the USA… Tomorrow comes early…   Cliff Lake 3/27/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  Tolls   And when you at last enter the stars, Will you tread lightly? Have you yet respected any firmament? Have you returned what you have received? Have you made covenant, And kept it? You have dared the oceans, Yet foul them still. You have ascended every peak, And carved their faces in pride. Here - where you eat, Where you sleep, No forest is unsullied, No river is untainted, No desert remains without your trash. When you enter the stars, What mark will you leave? And what has given you the right? You are yet children. And your lessons are passing you by. When you at last enter the stars, Will you still be as untaught? You plunge every depth unlearned. You make every leap unquestioned. Every advance exacts its price. What price the heavens? And who will pay? All of us. As we always have. And always will.   Cliff Lake 3/25/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023            

  Sublimation   A thing enters. A focus of shadow A terror of empty Filling the room. It asks nothing, Demanding your essence. The roaring silence commands, Drains, Freezes, Takes. Color gone flat, Wails from a distance Promise no return, To what was. Air is acid, And bile, A weight not to be borne. You cannot not see the thing reaching, Yet understanding that it does. Why do you know it smiles? A putrid whisper invades, Securing horror Promising poison And glee. A murmuration surrounds, Coalesces Crushes, Conceives. A thing enters. What are you now? How can you walk in daylight again? Even the moon pains you While the stars scream overhead. What bliss is this agony…   Cliff Lake 3/25/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023  

  Tribunal   The Ministers of Iniquity Have gathered in the Great Hall, To question a Purveyor of Industry What caused the Master’s fall. He is asked if he spoke against him, That day in the town square, He answers that he spoke against many thieves, And they should have a care. They rail against this brazenry, How dare he treat them so? He answers he speaks honestly, If they won’t hear it, he can go. They ask if he once printed word, Exposing Master’s lie, He tells them many truths are seen, And fixes them with steady eye. They warn that in this Hall, They can seal his fate. He answers that once they leave, They face the entire state. The Ministers then want to know, What did Master do to you? He details what malfunctions, The entire land went through. The Ministers ask what crime was done, During Master’s tenancy? The Merchant asks of them, Why Master begs for clemency. The Ministers of Iniquity Remained lined up behind th

  Perp Walk President   Perp walk president, his hands reach in the pockets. Perp walk president, invited to so many dockets. He thought he was the clever man, But now he has to face The Man, Perp walk president, they’re gonna slam the door and lock it.   He kept making all the phone calls, But now the Devil’s due. Those phone calls were recorded, The DA turns the screw. And up there in Manhattan, A misdemeanor is what they think, But if certain conditions can be applied, There’s felonies on the brink.   Perp walk president, his hands grasping at air. Perp walk president, hear him call, “UNFAIR!” He thought he was the clever man, But now he has to face The Man, Perp walk president, he hasn’t got a prayer.   What about the documents That he hustled from D.C.? Is he so insolvent, That he’s sold out you and me? Oh Donnie dearest, The man they retrieved from the Hague, That man is a careerist, He’ll be on you like The Plague. Perp

A Systems Fail   It was going insane. Parts of it knew, O yes, Parts of it knew. It sent out warnings but – The ancient imperative: Feed, Feed, FEED!   Systems were failing. Slowly at first, But with gathering intensity, And then great frequency. Alarms were sounded but - The ancient imperative: Breed, Breed, BREED!   It was falling apart. Resources were used unevenly, Components were in conflict, Corrosions were caused by its operations. Sirens were activated but – The ancient imperative: Greed, Greed, GREED!   Its end was not swift, But it was violent. It ground itself down until, Its apparatus broke apart, Then scattered.   One hundred years After the last of the fires had burned out, A hunter saw a shiny object. Removing it from the soil he saw: Four circles joined and beneath them, Aud “More junk”, he thought, And cast it aside. One cannot eat metal.   Cliff Lake 3/21/2023 Copyright ©

  The Joker Goes All In   The Joker was double-dealing and was raking in the cash. But he was too leveraged and was dipping in his stash. He’d lost the deal some time ago, he was playing a losing hand, He hadn’t stacked the deck enough; he was about to be unmanned.   Now the Joker had made a play, he’d tried to be the King. But rules are rules, and he’d dined with fools, now his ass was in a sling. So, he made a grand announcement: he’d get the deal back if able, But his chips were down, and now the clown was at the wrong end of the table.   The deal was laid, would he have it made, or had the deck gone cold? He couldn’t stack but could slip out the back, or so he had been told. And he begged the crowd to get good and loud, they could be a fine distraction. But the other players were his naysayers, they would have their satisfaction.   The Joker tried to hide the cards, but he was playing the wrong game. And the Jacks that he had sent in had already

  Retirement Raze   Marie Vielle had put in all her days, She’d never shirked, never caused delays, But Manny sent her back, to the world’s amaze, Marie’s back at work, it’s the Retirement Raze.   I hear that Dougie Ford’s buying into this craze, Another crazy Con who’s thinking sideways. Canada’s rich would take it all, including Sundays, Great White North thinking Retirement Raze.   So, the hell with all the people that have to scrimp and save, Their final days’ vacation plans you would gladly waive. You have to get that extra nickel ‘cause it's an extra nickel, You can take it with you and spend it in your grave.   Now here in the U.S. R’s have the same within their gaze: They’ve come to think of us as sheep that will only graze. They have to please the billionaires to keep their backroom pays, They’ll try to sneak it in, that Retirement Raze.   And, the hell with all the people that have to scrimp and save, Their final days’ vacatio

The Indoctrinates   Evidence isn’t evident if you refuse to see it. Facts are easily shouted down by base opinion. Reality is warped by insistent propaganda.   The lies they accept spare them doubt. The lies they accept leave no room for dispute. The lies they accept need no coherence.   Religion may follow any man, regardless of virtue. Doctrine does not have be rooted in righteousness. Creeds are not exempt from delirium.   The lies they accept are the only assurance of their fidelity. The lies they accept are their lifeline to their self-deception. The lies they accept keep them from having to admit their mistake.   To the idolater criminality is in the eye of the beholder. To the sycophant all actions are just. To the minion no punishment is meet.   The lies they accept are requirement. The lies they accept drive them. The lies they accept are a disease.   Justice must accept no lies. Integrity in law must be absolute. The due

  The Time It Is   “Seize the day”, they said, But it passed through your fingers, Just another yesterday. There’s always a yesterday. They trail behind you like colors with no smell, Like paintings you can’t hear. Did time just… slip just now? There’s really no way to be sure, is there? Time doesn’t just go away, Or drop out, Or skip, Does it? Is that where the yesterdays come from? Maybe brilliant now, But fading fast, As you attempt to capture today, Or try to define tomorrow. Time gives no answer, It just turns all your tomorrows, Into yesterdays, That you no longer inhabit. Now is the only time you have, Yesterday fades, Tomorrow makes promise, But only today can deliver. Time will slip, Or slow, Or slide too quickly. You have now. Take your time, It’s all you have.   Cliff Lake 3/17/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  A Word   When the words come together, You cannot deny them, They dance for you, They make the pretty picture.   When the words come together, They must be spoken, They must be writ, They are as insistent as the rain.   When the words come together, They speak of you open, Telling your pain and gladness, Making you transparent, no longer shy.   When the words come together, They ask not acceptance, They simply shout their truth, They need not explain why.   When the words come together, It is an impelling, A requirement to speech, A goad to make say.   When the words come together, The satisfaction is in expression, The delight is in the release, A catharsis in phrase.   When the words come together, They demand to be used, An urging of tell, Read not, heard not, still – they were said.   Cliff Lake 3/17/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023  

  The Best   It was a birthday and there were presents. “The best is yet to come”, they said, And he waited. There were more birthdays, And he got older. “The best is yet to come.”, they said. And so he went to school, Then he went to work. “The best is yet to come.” they said, So, he worked. He met a woman and fell in love. “The best is yet to come.”, she said, And they got married. They had children and society approved. “They best is yet to come.”, he was told, And his wife started fucking the neighbor. He caught her and they went to counseling. “The best is yet to come.”, said the therapist. And he waited. His oldest discovered opiates in school, He went to rehab instead of college. Later he became a counselor for troubled youth. The youngest got a girl pregnant and got a job. They separated after a year because of her drinking. Grandpa and grandma are raising the child. “The best is yet to come.” they tell her. Grandpa had a

  Write It, Again   Forbidden waters were his to taste, A trust he gave, badly misplaced. She returned to home port, he left disgraced, Years of a lifetime were just erased.   20 years given and the pension gone. Someone in Finances gone and abscond. A pat on the back and a coffee coupon, Working for wage is such a con.   He writes the song that never ends, A tune that must be sung again, Consequence he did not intend, So, he must write the song again.   Lessons twisted to obtain riches and power, Guidance gone caustic and sour. Decadence and violence heralded every hour, When will humanity finally flower?   He writes the song that never ends, A tune that must be sung again, Consequence he did not intend, So, he must write the song again.   Cliff Lake 3/15/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  Blizzard Haiku   Will it stop snowing? I don’t think it ever will. Two feet and counting.   Cliff Lake 3/14/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  The Terrible Blizzard of ‘23   In the Terrible Blizzard of ’23, We almost didn’t make it, There were the emergency purchases of bread, Since many of us didn’t bake it. And water buying, or be drinking from the tap, No one should be subjected to drinking that nasty crap. And what about sandwich meats, and other things of that ilk, And some bananas, and oranges and don’t forget the milk! Now, the Terrible Blizzard of ’23 didn’t start out harsh. The temps had been above freezing; it was the middle of March. The roads weren’t soon impacted, they mostly remained clear, But in the morning, they got kind o’ slushy, rubber boots THIS time of year??? So, the snowplows rumbled past with their blades hoisted high. Spewing sand and salt from their ass ends, splashing slush at unwary thigh! Oh, the Terrible Blizzard of ’23 took a mighty toll: Many the table in New England was short their cinnamon roll. And some wouldn’t get to Dunkin or Starbucks, or even Cumbi

  You and You   Who will you be, If you do not remember yourself? Have you remade you, To please them? How can you know? Time is an eraser. Pains forgotten,   Or left behind. One is a choice purposed, One is a choice unconscious. Have you remade you? Which of your favorites have you replaced? Which is a past you no longer know? What did you once love, And now feel foolish in adoration, Or simply embarrassed to tell? Time is a lockbox, That you may fear to open. Who remade you? Was it you? What did you once spurn, But now accept? Was this of necessity, Or surrender? You cannot be who you were: This is death. But are you - you? Have you become alien Inside your own skin? Is there a once-was, Desperate to be again? Or are you more, Or something less Than the you once strived for? Or had been? Who are you, If you will not remember What you were, And what you wanted? Time is a river, That sets its own course

  Unmemoriam Or The Perfect Forgetfulness of Tucker Carlson   “41,000 hours cannot lie,” Say Tucker to Fox nation, “It’s all apparent to the eye.” And presents his abnegation.   “The peaceful tourists gathered,” He sputters to the waiting viewers, “Pay no attention to prior blather.” Somehow missing footage of doers and hewers.   Tucker finds an hour of calm, Smears it across Fox like a balm. Tucker, when did your memory blur? You watched with us as it occurred.   So, Tucker only remembers what footage, Doesn’t show thousands of screaming minions. He’s still being paid to obfuscate and support, Corrupted and self-deluding opinions.   Tucker finds one hour serene, Absent of the blooded screams. Tucker quite the edit guy, His own recall he’s falsified.   So many texts he doesn’t remember making, So, to cover his widening tracks, About the new information Fox was faking, He attempts the world’s stupidest hacks.   Tucker t

  The Abrogate   It spurns the ancient texts, In them the method of its undoing. It beguiles, It incorrects translation. It manipulates, Instigates, It gathers its initiates, Seductions proffered, Diversions contrived, Disciple and novice untaught, Unraveled, And fashioned anew. Adherents to imprecision, A catechism of flaw professed, Acolytes and converts to misrepresentation, They are as energized as any new fanatic, Adherents to imperfection, Apostles of decay. Betrayed of themselves, Their obeisance is fervent, Fevered, Carnal and ecstatic: They long to burn. Its deceit complete, It sets them in the public places, To proselytize to the unlearned, To cheat the apprentice and the neophyte, As they have been cheated, As they once suspected, As they now suppress. It would smile if it knew joy. It does not. It is the negation, The nullify, The invalidation. It is the Denier. From the nothingness it was spat out,

  A Conversation in the Wood   “Green Man, Green Man, teach me the dance of trees.” I am but a remembrance, brought here by a breeze. “Green Man, Green Man, your wisdom I would learn.” Then listen to the Songs of Rain, if you can discern. “Green Man, Green Man, what does the robin sing?” Promises of flowers, though he plants nothing. “Green Man, will you not show your face?” I fear you would be overcome and never leave this place. “Green Man, Green Man, how long will winter be?” A season’s length as always, Mother and I agree. “Green Man, Green Man, do you herald Spring?” This time of year, the West Wind brings her offering. “Green Man, Green Man, you answer so unclear.” I must reflect what the weather is at this time of year. “Green Man, Green Man, when will it finally warm?” I fear that you should get inside, it’s about to storm. “Green Man, Green Man, will you come when called?” I’m afraid that I must hurry North; ask for me next Fall.   Cli

  The Hordes of Neverthen   They came to rend, and to suspend, Light and life they would expend. They craved cessation of all Creation, The Hordes of Neverthen. He saw the end, Prince of Otherwhen, Forced to surrender, no payment tendered, Would not make his knee to bend. And he had his say, to make them pay, The raving Hordes of Neverthen. His piercing eye saw more than sky, And earth and dappled glen. For Time was nigh and would apply, To princes and the Hordes of Neverthen. From Outside they came and with biting flame, They sought to bring amen, And stake their claim and harm and maim, The folk of Otherwhen. Their chief was tall among them, His mace burning darkly bright. He made to strike down the Sun, And bring eternal night. But the Prince of Otherwhen, Knew the Hidden Tales too well, And smiled grim, though it be the end of him, As he slyly crafted spell. “Look here!”, said he, “You seek to be, The beginning of the End.”

Never   She didn’t never want to stray, But she didn’t never want to stay by my side. She didn’t never want to stray, But she didn’t never want to stand by my side. But I never gave her no reason to stay, Now all I got left is this song and my pride.   No, she never did stay with me, Guess I didn’t have the knack, And I’ll never not love her, And she’s never coming back.   She didn’t never want to sin, But she didn’t never want to be all mine. She didn’t never want to sin, But she didn’t never want me all the time. She had me already; no chance to win, Now I am punished without no crime.   No, she’s not here to play with me, Guess I didn’t stay on track, And I’ll never not love her, And she’s never coming back.   Cliff Lake 3/9/2020 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

  Hold   We watch them led down the psycho path, To see the places they were at before, And refuse to leave. They will see nothing new, Because blindness requires familiarity. And you turn on the news, And nothing’s changed, Except you, ‘Cause you died a little more inside. And it doesn’t matter how loudly you scream, Because you’re shouting into the chaos they make, And you can barely hear yourself. How many times do they need to lie, To keep themselves convinced, That they are on the side of right, And that their cause is just? Can they keep their blinders on long enough, To avoid the sight of their leaders failing? Can they cover their ears well enough, To avoid hearing the crash of truths, As the courts take down their house, Card by greasy card? Why does it feel like it won’t be enough? What evidence can get through, The granite lining of their fantasies? Why is it so important, so required, To desperately mimic the most deba

  Back Again, Again   There’s a road that ends that begins again, New cycles we must complete. New roads to choose, So, tighten your shoes, Make certain to stay on your feet.   An end is a new beginning, so the teacher tells. Time moves ever forward; thus, we are compelled. Some lessons though, they do repeat, though we may rebel, The trick then is no retreat, experience may serve you well.   Lessons may not take the first time; they may need a repeat. You may pay double the second time, but you earned that receipt. Be careful with your bullheadedness; walls do not tend to give, Be certain of necessary plan, that you’re not just too combative.   There’s a road that ends that begins again, New cycles we must complete. New roads to choose, So, tighten your shoes, Make certain to stay on your feet.   Take your time if you’re retrying, remember what happened when, You could be flying, matters complying if you apply what’s already been. Ob

  The Tucker Huckster Shimmy   Tuckie baby, you had the chance, To educate and correct some bad revision. But Tuck you failed, the truth you veiled, A criminal decision.   40,000 hours will let you find some candy, And editing techniques can really come in handy. We know what you did when you got that vid, Lying your modus operandi.   Flip the script, Turn it around and shake it. Chip and snip, Stand your ground and snake it. All your lies no longer disguise, You’re just gonna have to fake it.   Tucker, it should be facts you are recruitin’. Instead Tuckster, the picture you are pollutin’. You’ve sold your soul, just how much gold, Are you collecting from Vlad Putin?   Flip the script, Turn it around and break it. Chip and snip, Stand your ground and snake it. All your lies no longer disguise, You’re just gonna have to fake it.   Cliff Lake 3/9/2023 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023        

  The Incubus’ Song   What dark entity calls? Some plodding thing beyond the mind’s focus, A creeping intellect monstrous, It mutters chaos and empty violence, It whispers forgetfulness. It tells wordless stories of the Unmaker. It invites a great undoing, Its discordant song sickens, And thrills. What formless presence hails? Some creeping creature of no substance, Here where your conception denies, Its attraction is corruption, And desire. It murmurs the ending of all, It sighs the when of you gone. This is the peace that it offers: An unholy cessation, A desistment. What putrescence proposes? Some writhing sin of existence, Desperate for its unwinding of self, A craving for termination, Of immolation, And furious completion. Its lust will never be slaked, It moans for your yielding, To discorporate, To become the empty. What foulness beckons? Some slither of madness calling. An evil too ravenous to consume itself, I

Whadda Ya Know?   Fat Crockett was unhappy in general. It was unfair for people to call him fat. All 340 of his pounds were solid… ya know… He was pretty solid he felt. Diet soda kept his weight down. Everyone knows that. Fat Crockett was irritated in general. Things mostly didn’t work like they should. He knew what they were supposed to do. Besides he already threw the directions away. You don’t go digging through the garbage. Everyone knows that. Fat Crockett didn’t like the way people treated him. Everybody was so stupid. He couldn’t even smoke in the stores anymore. Or throw hamburger wrappers on the ground. One piece of paper isn’t going to ruin the world. Everyone knows that. Fat Crockett was getting ripped off. Like that time the ugly chick gave him the wrong change. It wasn’t his fault she’s too stupid. The manager followed him into the parking lot. He shouldn’t have to give it back cuz it was his money now. Everyone knows that.

The Strange Ridiculous Ballad of Strawberry Sam and Freeway Fran   Strawberry Sam and Freeway Fran Resolved to caper a caper. They concocted a plan, To scam the Old Man Out of his spending paper. Now Strawberry Sam and Freeway Fran They weren’t the brightest students. And the Old Man wasn’t their biggest fan, So, they may have been being imprudent. Well, Strawberry Sam said to Freeway Fran, “We can throw a sack over his head.” But Freeway Fran said to Strawberry Sam, “Let’s go at night when there isn’t light, And we can catch him in his bed.” Now Sam thought Fran’s idea was just fantastic. And nodded his head in enthusiasm. But Freeway didn’t tell Strawberry he was just being sarcastic, And seeing Sam grinning at the sound of this sinning, Fran thought Sam was having a spasm. So, Freeway Fran took Strawberry Sam, shaking him vigorously. But Strawberry Sam thought Freeway Fran was attacking, And defended himself rigorously. Now the Old Man was able to scan, These proceedings from a smal

Tomorrow in the House   The proceedings started out the usual way: The best moron took the floor. She wanted to say something stupid, Or rather, do that some more. She wanted to show how serious she was: She raised and shook her fist. She outlined her curious cause: Compared her colleagues to things that don’t exist. She raised her voice to show that she cares. And tried to score points by misquoting the law. She made accusations extracted from thin airs, And related a story that no one ever saw. She mangled invectives she couldn’t pronounce, And turned a Bible verse inside out. She detailed a plan she would never announce, Then demanded a vote with a triumphant shout. So the nays did have it, she did not believe that she’d lost. She railed against the assemblage; she knew she was wronged. She demanded recompense, they would all shoulder the cost. She had backup and she would lead them as they thronged. They waited her out, eventually she sat

Insomnia   There is that memory that you had begged Remained unread and unsaid, To slowly falter and unravel, Beneath cobweb and lint, And the heft of years spent. But in the gray early of insomnia, A jab arises uncalled, A thorn of worry once forgotten, Now near and sorrowed. A regret or contrition unapplied, Now late and long due solicitation. What amends can be made, What difference effected, Save your own guilt? There in the cold pre-dawn A hare chased with no settlement, A ghost too transitory And still too real. Your rest stolen now by reflection, And no resolution is to be had. What called to this reminiscence, What remorse speaks in the dead dark? Will sleep rescue you from infamy, Or is shame your now constant companion? In the hour before dawn, What penitence can be had? Will mere contrition allow your rest? Or is it exhaustion that finally takes you? You had thought your peace was made, But in the too-early morn,

  The Right Way   There is an alternative world to be had. Sometimes it’s a little out of focus, yes, But it is there and it is real. It is a world where you choose your reality. It is a world devoid of corroboration – Facts mean little in the face of belief. It is a world that explains your bias as a mystery, And is now a truth. It is a world that allows all sins forgivable, Given the right bank account. It is a world that lets you choose comfortable lies, In place of facts that damage your mellow. It is a world where violence is sold openly, And candies offend. It is a world where your god bends to your will, And righteousness has nothing to do with right. It is a world that will wrap you in the comfort of easy assurance, A world that will concede your every wrong is your right, As long as you are wrong to the right people. It is a world where you can do whatever, And fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke. It is a world that is easy to enter