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An Observer of Life in Bad Poetry

Commentary on Daily Life, Politics and Sports

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Family

When It’s Black On Black, Matter Lacks

IMG_3162 (2)Another day another shooting another young life ends in death

Onlookers peek from windows and doorways as a young child draws her last breath

Fifty years ago Elvis Presley sang about an angry young man who lays down in the street and dies

And as a crowd gathers round his mama cries

Fifty years later the cries of anguish are still heard

The murders are numerous, so many atrocities the crimes become blurred

Today the perfectly coiffed news reporter stands at the scene trying to emphasize society’s decay

But it’s just the daily shooting and the public has become blase

This wasn’t a white cop involved in the fatality

So the standard interview with the neighborhood leaders is just a formality

The protests, rioting and looting will have to wait for another time

Because this was a gang related random act and somehow that’s not as much of a crime

It’s a black thing, you people on the outside just don’t understand

So to combat this senseless violence the call is for the police to disband

We may not understand but we’re sickened by the pools of blood on the sidewalk

And the forensics teams drawing tiny victim’s outlines in chalk

Oh, the mayor will form a committee to study this area’s depravation

And will issue a stern warning to gang members in a wordy proclamation

Just as a another little casket is lowered into the ground under cloudy skies

As a silent group of mourners stand ashen faced while another mother cries

Gone with the Wave of a Wand

IMG_1120Keeping up with the Jones’ in the well heeled neighborhood was easy not so long ago

Money was blown that hadn’t yet been earned but borrowing and terms were easy so you could owe

Critical items were needed like ten dollar coffee stops and hair and nails done by appointment

Knowing you had to put off the new phone because the note was due on the luxury SUV was a disappointment

But there was food in the fridge and eating out three times a week seemed like money well spent

Still at the end of the month after all was paid you wonder where it all went

Then came the pandemic a disease that was supposed to happen in other countries but not here

Yet local businesses closed, the income flow ceased peeling away the comfortable veneer

Formally sociable people turned common sense into panic and panic into hoarders

The media and government had every citizen contagious and to slow the spread closed the borders

An ugly realization that bills were still due, the ATM show zero balance and credit cards were maxed

Hoping like crazy the mortgage company’s late fee policy would be relaxed

The news reporters were showing the daily casualty numbers and stores’ empty shelves

All advising the merits of staying at home while broadcasting remotely themselves

The pantry and refrigerator are now empty and the family just finished the last box of cereal

Suddenly poor and humble, the humiliation of asking for assistance seemed immaterial

With hair tucked under a scarf and chipped nails you inch along in the the food line watching the gas gauge point to low

Wishing you’d had fewer dinner parties with thirty dollar bottles of Merlot

This can’t be happening in America, it’s a birthright ticket to easy street

Not sitting in a sweltering line of cars hoping for a box of food so the family will be able to eat

Mom (or Dad’s) New Lesson Plan

Amidst the schools closing with little warning due to the virus threat
Parents trying to home school are finding subjects are easy to forget

Twenty years ago school seemed a breeze and the subjects taught were easy
Now a quick glance at the lessons on the laptop made the stomach queasy

The idea of passing the kids on to Granny wasn’t working either
Sure, she does have a phone and a laptop but has mastered neither

Her atlas still showed Yugoslavia and her dictionary can’t spell check
And Gramps is completely immersed in TV westerns as his brain has become a sputtering wreck

Now Mom’s working from home, reviewing tomorrow’s lessons and exactly what is a cosine
But just maybe now there is a chance to show what makes Mom shine

The kids can learn how to manage a day, budget the home and work the lesson plan
Maybe life’s lessons can be shown to be more than a soccer Mom in a minivan

The whining and the eye rolling are inevitable but one must comply with the law of the land
Parents can now experience a small dose of what teachers see first hand

So review the Magna Carta, split infinitives and flower stamens as tomorrow they’ll be yours to teach
This new responsibility will make the evening wine sweeter while you dream of the beach

The Wed Perse


“Kevin are you glad that you’ve gotten to leave the classroom and come spend time with me?
And if we can break your pronunciation problem with the r’s it will be time well spent. Don’t you agree?”

“So you just sit there and we’ll work on your speech. What color is my purse?”
“Ma’am, your perse is wed.” Knowing my r just went from bad to worse

“No Kevin, the purse is red, rrrr red. Can you repeat that?”
“Yes ma’am, rrrr wed.” More words the kids can poke fun at

Wats!

“Okay Kevin, we’ll try again. How many apples are on the stand?”
“Ma’am it looks like thwee.” Wanting to bury my head in the sand

Wats! Wats!

“Kevin it’s three, thrrrree. Can you repeat it?”
“Yes ma’am, thwee.” As frustration reached the point of throwing a fit

“No Kevin, it’s thrrrree. Repeat it one more time.”
“Thwee.” Just knowing I’m sounding like I’m committing a crime

Cwap!

“Kevin let’s take a minute and watch the yard man cutting grass through the window screen. What color is the grass?”
“Ma’am, he’s cutting gween gwass.”

Cwap! Cwap!

“Okay Kevin, I see our twenty minutes are up and your class is outside for recess. Do you know when our next session is before you go out to play?”
“Yes ma’am it’s thwee o’clock on Fwiday.”

Fuck!

“Oh Kevin, it’s thrrrree o’clock on Frrrriday. I guess I’ve got another ten minutes to spare.
So you’ll stay here and repeat after me, and stop squirming in that chair.”

Antiques Roadshow


The politicians are gathering at the Iowa Convention Center and telling the voters what they are worth
Pretending they have all the solutions, can save the country and are the salt of the earth

It appears the frontrunners are not spring chickens, their skin sags and their knees creak
They need glasses to read from a teleprompter so a foggy brain doesn’t cause them to misspeak

Most had to Google Iowa to find if an educated civilization exists and it’s geographical whereabouts
By using various browser searches they were able to determine needed information and the shortest in and out routes

The usual suspects were assembled minus a few that couldn’t generate much interest
Those missing came to the stunning conclusion that outside their circle of toadies there’s really no donating elitists

Most of the leading candidates had to use the handicapped entrance and each had a so equipped suite
The rooms were equipped with doors that opened only to the left and knee pads to continue their worship at Schumer and Pelosi’s feet

The Barbie and Ken of the feckless geriatric set, both crave power by running the House with an X in the center box
Causing Republican legislation to barely crawl as partisan votes are a unanimous bloc

Both the expressions of the Speaker and Minority Leader never change and are devoid of humor
Their faces are frozen as if out of hemorrhoid cream showing a constant grimace those of Pelosi and Schumer

The former Vice President Biden is in the Atrium claiming his vast experience will give Trump a scare
But first he needs to be near a twelve year old girl so he can smell her hair

Bernie Sanders is checking in next, a friend to all the struggling little people evidenced by the fact he can’t afford a comb
But also making sure he has a direct route out of Iowa to his nearest multi million dollar home

Since her beer chugging, kin to the Indians, and horrific healthcare costs didn’t work out there’s a new sound coming from Elizabeth Warren
Blasting her opposition and big business at every opportunity her open door policy on immigration now has her chameleon personality speaking Ecuadorian

So they’re here in Iowa to woo the caucus voters with all their rhetoric and bluster
While the middle of the road Iowans try to act engaged with all the civility they can muster

The Last Can of Green Beans

IMG_E1467

It was the day before Thanksgiving and everyone was to gather at Granny’s
The kin folk would be elbow to elbow and packed in all the crannies
The banquet is a traditional pot luck buffet spread on a long oak sideboard
The plates and silverware are next to the crystal pitchers of drinks to be poured
The room would be sweltering as Grandpa would have a fire going and the yule logs ablaze
Everyone would be hugging, head rubbing and shedding the festive sweaters worn for the holidays
The work day had been hard, half the staff waited till after lunch then ducked out early
The phone had rung constantly, and the wait time for clients left them surly
But the long weekend was here with just one task that needs completing
My famous green bean casserole always received rave reviews by all who were eating
The recipe is from a soup can and not highly thought of in the world of cuisines
The process is is simple, a can of soup, french fried onions, a little milk and a can of green beans
The dish can be assembled now, baked in the morning and served for dinner
Carried in an insulated bag, the fifty mile trip means the food arrives hot and me a winner
Snapping on the light, opening the pantry with the neatly stacked cans and grasping at air
The realization of no green beans produced a startling scare
Last weeks guests had been served the last green beans covered with crisp bacon
But knowing the corner grocer would have a can left me unshaken
Back in barely creeping bumper to bumper holiday traffic left me muttering to myself
The ten minute trip lasted forty five only to find no green beans on the shelf
Also none at the bigger market four blocks farther, or the drug store, or the big box food mart
The fact I hadn’t checked my meager grocery inventory hadn’t been smart
Panic was setting in, the thought of a hot dish casserole had begun to dim
When Friendly Tom’s Gas and Go glowed in the headlights, perhaps pickings might not be so slim
Entering the store and glancing at the can goods, there it sat
In all its giant green glory and me grinning like a Cheshire cat
Triumphantly dropping the can on the check out counter and feeling good to be alive
Friendly Tom cocked his eye and casually stated, “fourteen ninety five.”
Sensing shock and anger, Tom calmly stated. “Take it or leave it.”
Instead of Black Friday, Tom has Price Gouge Wednesday for items hard to get
The ten minute trip had turned into a three hour ordeal with me getting fleeced
But I had my prized can and my specialty will arrive in time for the feast
Thanksgiving morning went well, the dish looked great and traffic a breeze until the detour
An RV rear ended a farm wagon, jackknifed blocking lanes and covering all with manure
Adding twenty miles and forty five minutes the short trip had become a speed limit run
Dashing up the steps,I hoped my disheveled look would be forgiven as the prodigal son
The family was holding dinner nodding sympathetically hoping my distress to console
As I placed my now cooled dish next to one over baked turkey and thirteen other green bean casseroles

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