A folk sermon by the proudly misinformed Look here, Puddintame,I’ll tell you the same.Diversity’s a curse,And Equity’s worse.Inclusion?Sinister collusion. Now hush, Clementine,Lemme lay it on the line.Hear me condescend,My young and foolish friend.𝘈 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮’𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘢𝘳. Again, Puddintame,The world’s gone insaneAnd it’s taken you with it.You gotta admit it:The world’s done went…
They scratched the words into vellum,But left the meaning subject to change.These foundations were laid in liberty,Yet fortified by their chattel in chains. Our fathers, despite their wisdom,Got so much of it wrong.But at least they had foresightTo permit rewrites as the years grew long. Of the people— Those who aren’t walking in fear,With nothing…
The first five were easyAnd the second not so bad.It’s the third five, I believe,That is not to be had. The fourth is the thirdAllover again.Never mind the fifth—Number three, to my chagrin. A shave, a gain, rinse and repeat.Repeat the third score.I’ve lost those same fiveA hundred times or more. The daily slog is…
She loves Jesus and whisky.I’ve gotten more out of the latter.I’ve dabbled enough in bothTo know the poison’s in the dose. Juxtapositions build intrigueYet her dichotomy is watered-down.Pious affirmations offer stale breadAnd my restless soul remains unfed. She loves Jesus and whiskey.I prefer the Devil’s cut to the angel’s share.One ushers in trust, the other,…
She stood there over his body,Wiping blood from her noseAnd letting her tears dry. Still, she stood, over his body,With a claw hammer in her fistAnd a prayer of retribution in her heart. He’d gone too far countless times.How was this time any different?This time she was finally broken. She would kill him.What about the…
She talks like someone with nothing to lose,And at two-fifteen an hour an ego-bruiseAin’t the worst she’s faced. A double-shot of Patrón and an orange sliceLater and her 15 are up; time to make nice:A second shift awaits next door. A lifetime of put-ons and fake smilesWizened her to men and their wiles,And gave her…
Dim concert halls, hiking trails, the car left in park.Sweaty palms, leather seats, fiery secrets in the dark.Hot showers, steamy windows—shadows shifting positions,Sweat dripping, breath hitching, surrender in submission. A fistful of hair; a mouthful of deep hungerInching toward throbbing crescendos.Let the symphony linger before leaving the stageTo purge the last note, to spit out…
The rain falls unhurried.The chill lingers, persistent.A morning for coffee,Cold pizza, zero plans. Talk with me, big and small.Of cosmic crumbs, devilish details.Until we reach the dregs,And continue still.
Shimmering waters—A slow, relentless ascent,The snail gives no thought.