CliffSongs

20 Million Nothings – An Ode to Irresponsibility   The easy decision: Do nothing, Make no choice, Sit it out, And remain blameless. Such pretty lack of compassion! You have no responsibility to others, They make their own choices – Except when those choices are beyond their control. 2025 is here, And you helped to bring it. NO! I will not tolerate your dissemble! To wit: You have abandoned the care of the needy, The elderly, And those that cannot care for themselves. But really, is that your fault? What responsibility have you to they? Remember: you did nothing,   That was the choice, To choose… Nothing. And if the many are moved off this land, And the lettuce and the melons rot in the fields, Will you choose to dirty your hands? Or will you choose as you have: To do nothing. That way it will still remain Not your fault, right? Right? And when the raped child carries her child to term, You remain blameless, For you cho

  One at a Time   This is our last shot: The American Experiment is imperiled, Not just by an aggrieved would-be tyrant, Whose greed is exceeded only by his disdain, His indifference to the struggles of the common, His hatred of anything that does not exalt him. Though he seeming looms large… He is but the face of the menace. For we are imperiled by more: Sycophants of the martinet in high places and low, Bullies and treachers-in-waiting, Subservient to hatred and their twisted desires, Willing to havoc all in service to cruelty and domination. Betrayers of the trust they were born to, Saboteurs and slanderers, Snakes every one. Yet others are taking their shots, Outside influencers manic, For they sense the experiment in peril, And would lend their expertise in chaos, In disorder and disarray, Their own failures evident on the world stage, And would not learn anything from their mistakes, Unless it be how to educate our nation, In th

  The Arrangement   The agitator had been caught in the early morning. Someone so seemingly well-funded Should have known the coffee shop was under surveillance. Bold as brass, Sitting in the front window, This Enemy of the State went willingly enough, And now sat quietly before the Interrogator. As expected, his answers were too often cryptic, Misleading or Outright lies. His poise remained unshakeable, Bordering on impudence, Even in the face of known whereabouts, Aliases, Operations, And even knowledge of incidents Attributed to him, That were not his. His nerve seemed unshakeable. Expected, yes, but maddening for all of that. One question remained: “Who is funding you so adequately?” The agitator’s eyes flicked to the guards in the room, To the Recorder, Then back to the Interrogator… A tacit gesture, Delivered with a seriousness not worn before. The Interrogator dismissed the guards, Waved the Recorder off. When the roo