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An Observer of Life in Bad Poetry

Commentary on Daily Life, Politics and Sports

Month

November 2016

The Other Parade

img_0882The people crammed the sidewalks early in the morning

They had dressed warmly heeding the freeze warning

Every exhale was seen forming a misty cloud

Partially due to cold, partially due to chili dogs sold to the crowd

Anticipation built as distant sirens and drum beats sounded

The buildings on each side of the street created a chamber as the wail resounded

The first high school band carrying a banner strutted into view

From Cedar Rapids they were making their network debut

Behind them were six cowboys on horses twirling ropes and waving to the masses

And hoping the noises from the backside of their animals were just gasses

Then came the first balloon, an updated version of last year’s Underdog

Modified to look like Trump with giant loud speakers, small hands, inane tweets and dialogue

The sound was very loud so no one would understand what was said

But yell loud enough and no one would know the balloon was in over its head

The red hatted parade employees worked hard to keep the figure from sending tweets not clever

As most of it’s tweets were caustic replies to critiques from its latest endeavor

Passing the stand where the Bushs’ sat he saw they had dropped trou and were shooting him the moon

Causing one nun, a red cross bell ringer and three brownie scouts to swoon

Behind the floating gas bag was a Stones cover band playing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

How true that is but the Trumploon didn’t listen to lyrics and seemed nonchalant.

A couple of hyperbole throwing, high profile media seekers followed close behind

The first convertible had Rudy Guiliani, he was New York’s best mayor, he was quick to remind

He was early to the staging area as he only had to walk from his cot at Fox and Friends

He’s always on the show to advance his agenda and comment on current trends

The next was another large blimp, no wait it is a flat bed pulling Chris Christie

He’s waving to the crowd wearing that scowl that makes him look both angry and prissy.

The next zeppelin was a weird female figure doing a shoulder shimmy with a forced scripted cackle

Looking regal in her sequined pantsuit she kept yelling to the millions of illegals she would unshackle

Hilloon liked flying above the crowd, she couldn’t relate to commoners but could still yell “Unite”

But she couldn’t stop for a second as the somewhat wimpy FBI balloon might indict

Hoping cutsie catch phrases might hide the crimes she couldn’t overcome

As the figure hurried away, the crowd couldn’t decide if she was running for or from

Strangely it seemed that more people waved to the Hillary balloon than the one of Trump

But the Trumploon appealed to more states causing the Hilloon to look like a chump

This was followed by another Stones cover band playing “You Got The Silver I Got The Gold”

The Hilloon made a lot of money over the years but its downfall were the emails it tried to withhold

In a convertible behind were a group of obnoxious celebrity personalities

All pretentiously puffed up espousing their own brand of ill informed banality

Finally just before Santa Claus came the Bernie Sanders balloon giving away lots of free things

Free college, free housing and income into the crowd he flings with no attached strings

And sadly the young were screaming for more free stuff in order for them to succeed

The last band playing “Gimme Shelter” in keeping with songs from the Stones album Let It Bleed

As the last gas bag passed it became apparent, they were slowly deflating

A year and a half barrage of insults and finger pointing had become more than irritating

Finally just before the crowd dispersed came Santa drinking heavily from a flask filled with booze

With enough liquor calming himself from the noise of politically correct boos.

And urging on the tractor to speed up a bit while mushing his fake reindeer

He didn’t want the children to see the glistening tracks on his cheeks made by his tears

Gobbler Strike Force

img_0865

It was the Tuesday evening before Thanksgiving and the store lights went dark

“Time to move out if you’re with us,” said 24-6 the clans’ patriarch

“Our army has dwindled but our giblets still have heart.”

“We’ll fight till our red buttons pop. We can get her back if we do our part.”

“Sir,” little 10-4 piped up, “18-4 and 16-2 have both been taken.”

“Casualties of war sonny,” said 24-6. His nerves unshaken

Their plans drawn up, their objective for the raid was 19-6

The exquisite hen with large rounded breasts and to die for drumsticks

The information 10-4 had obtained late at night after the store had closed

Showed the address on the store rewards card could be approached unexposed

So the small band of raiders checked their gear and set about their mission

They had sliced off their plastic wrap and were ready to battle their opposition

Quietly they scuttled across the floor and through the receiving doors

Dashing past the parked trailers and rendezvoused by the grove of sycamores

The band of raiders raced on under the cover of lost and found camouflage

Dragging behind them meager supplies,  they took cover in the shrubs behind the garage

They had brought the store’s hand truck, a chain of plastic bags, and a box of dog bones

Standing on 24-6’s shoulders, 10-4 quickly cut the lines to the house telephones

“Quiet! Someone’s coming,” hissed 17-3. Covered with the camo the group fell silent

The family of the house passed. No invader moved as a clash to get violent

The people piled into the car and left for a Thanksgiving parade

The band thought the house empty and hadn’t figured on the live-in maid

The first bird crashed through the window holding dog treats and the plastic chain

Using the hand truck as a catapult, 24-6 was firing his squad inside, only he would remain

The chain uncoiling down the side of the house showed all were inside

“We’re trying to get her now,” whispered 17-3 prying the cooler doors not to be denied

The doors popped open and there she was in all her enticing beauty

“Come on, no time to explain,” as two others grabbed the bewildered cutie

Suddenly a high pitched growl and a burst of light illuminated the area

“What’s going on in here?” screeched the maid her voice tinged with hysteria

A dinky teacup Yorkie barked frantically at the nearest pale white invader

The maid fearing the worst, grabbed the nearest weapon, a rotary cheese grater.

Bitch slapping the yappy dog 17-3 hustled 19-6 back down the chain

To get her out now and leave no one behind was their goal to obtain

10-4 threw a large bowl of jellied cranberry sauce at the maid

Another raider slammed the box of bones over the dog’s head to stop the noisy tirade

With no casualties the band of of marauders slid down the chain and into the night

Stopping briefly to catch their breath before heading to the appointed spot to reunite

Ain’t never seen seen nothing like this, thought the overweight detective

It seems to steal a turkey was their only objective

The sauce spatter pattern indicates the sauce was thrown from this spot

And the berry stained catatonic maid couldn’t tell us squat

Still holding the grater she kept mumbling about little white ghosts

With the dog stuffed with bones this crime scene is difficult to diagnose

Shaking his head looking at the mutt lying in a pool of slippery red sauce

He eyed the chalk outline of where the maid had slipped, logic at a loss

Looking at the store receipt for a large 19 pound plus turkey

His thought process as to motive proved more than a little murky

Later with 19-6 standing wing in wing under the tall tree called Old Hickory

24-6 was heard to say, “ I love the smell of cranberries in the morning. It smells like victory.”

Chicago Sanitation: Only The Beautiful Need Apply

img_0827The casting call was on page eight of the entertainment section

Please submit a head shot and resume for inspection

An upstart company was trying to compete with television success

Another city based drama should be what the audience requests

So the casting would be done based on the customary blueprint

Get semi known people with varied levels of acting skills and make a mint

The script calls for team interactions while trying to keep out of each others’ way

But all the on camera regulars must be beautiful stated the interoffice communique

Local sanitation Teamsters 893 wouldn’t have anyone working not svelte and chiseled

People with substance abuse, relationship issues, poorly dressed may be old and grizzled

The cattle call was placed and went to all the unemployed actors

Current resumes, photos, and previous gigs were to be determining factors

The cast was to be assembled with a black candidate as the local team leader

Her job was to be tough yet empathetic and a bit of a mind reader

The powers that be are now happy as the cast will appear diversified

And that should keep the people that watch for those things mollified

You won’t see another black person unless in the background and barely on screen

The rest of the cast will be eight white guys, one Asian and one Hispanic ex marine.

Two women will also be included, one a blond and one of mixed descent

The personalities will evolve with one turning out to be a murderous malcontent

However each and everyone will be dazzling right down to their pearly whites

The men must look exceptional with their shirts off and the women in shorts and tights

One never knows when tossing a garbage container they would need to strike a pose

As many a lonely housewife or husband dreams of a sanitation worker with no clothes

The show is cast, many of the regulars straight from underwear ads

Mannequins that speak, in keeping with the network drama fads

Disasters, interoffice turmoil, and job setbacks will be thrust upon the crew

All will be resolved in 52 minutes unless there is to be a part two

The weekly dramas will continue in story lines continuously retold

A kidnapped asthmatic child locked in a dumpster and left in the cold

The drug deal drop point was a can emptied into the hero’s truck

The phone threats stating the drugs will be returned or a fan favorite is a dead duck

Of course the romantically involved regulars hilarious attempt at hiding their lust

When and where the first hookup took place is a bet by the team often discussed

Run the show as a summer replacement and notify the advertisers to buy commercial time

If it doesn’t hit right away throw in some nudity and watch the ratings climb

The crime, grime and raging libidos continue like clock work for sixteen weeks

Regardless of writing, subject matter and overall critiques

Television executives possess no imagination as shows aping shows continue forever

Copy the one show displaying some initiative, a new twist or something clever

Variety shows, westerns, detectives have all ruled the airwaves at one time or another

Flip the channel in any decade for six of one and a half dozen of the other

Currently good looking actors man every professional job under the sun

No one considered plain can ever carry a stethoscope or badge and gun

Someday the burned out public will have had enough and tune in NPR

Now that would be something unheard of and truly bizarre

Deplorables 1 Media 0

img_0860The polls opened at seven but the line had already formed

They were there to vote even though the press had called them uninformed

They came from the back woods, small neighborhoods and farms

They were the once proud working class, called deplorables now up in arms

They stood in the cold speaking in low voices

Probably wouldn’t have voted at all given the choices

These were the silent people ignored by the government

By the powerful elite claiming  behind closed doors they were transparent

They had been called racist, sexist, homophobic among other things

But to be looked down on by some soft pious ex first lady really stings

They were broken and bent from years of hard labor and military service

And the fact this person might step on their rights made them nervous

Some didn’t choose to join the military they went as they were drafted

Once discharged they went back to their jobs but VA healthcare left them shafted

They endured the hardships and the cold treatment they received

It seemed like a fixable problem but the wait time for doctoring went unrelieved

The military and home life had taught them with all people to coexist

But now they were called racist and that had them pissed

But they didn’t riot, interrupt traffic, or wear causes on their sleeves

People have a right to their opinion if in the Constitution one believes

This wasn’t a vote of a woman against a man

It was against four more years of a failed national plan

This was against a photo op person in a Cubs hat trying to look cool

When all knew she’d be hard pressed to explain the infield fly rule

She seemed ill at ease in any location surrounded by citizens

As some might not actually share her far left visions

Because these deplorables knew for sure there was no free lunch

So they came out on the cold morning to throw a desperate counter punch

They stood on crutches, in wheelchairs, and leaning on canes

To sign the forms or make their mark in spite of their pains

They couldn’t win, said the press. They didn’t have a chance.

We’ve got it in a walk, lets all prepare for our victory dance.

Somewhere birds are singing, somewhere children shout

But there is no joy in Washington as the mighty Media has struck out

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