Renewable Energy

The refugee from who-knows-where who spent all night freezing 
On a park bench while you were feeding your fireplace 
With presto logs does not want to hear what you’ve been doing 
To save the planet; he wants to see you walk over a bed of hot coals
Holding your head on a silver platter and not get burnt. 

Loss Is

what remains 
when you find nothing 

but grieving 
remains 

Divination of Evil

“Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want
and deserve to get it good and hard.”—H.L. Mencken


I bet you ten will get you twenty 
Men wiser than I have said 
The pursuit of liberty starts 
As innocently 
As a child wanting 
What it cannot have, 

And ends with it 
Having what 
It doesn’t need; 
Indeed, most 
Of the time, it feels 
It just doesn’t 

Know what it wants 
Or needs, then gets it 
Good and hard 
In the gut when 
Least expected, 
Its entrails found lacking, 

While knowing bloody butchers 
Lick their chops in the end. 

Just Us and the Chickens

Not living as long as we do, 
Chickens do not have the time 
Nor our bird-brained inclination 
To piddle over whether or not 
There’s some kind of god working 
Wonders way up there above the weather; 
You can see an example of this 
When their gullets are parched 
And the nearest watering 
Hole’s dry as all get-out, 
Soon as they hear the rumbling 
Of nimbuses rolling their way, 
Straightaway they tilt 
Their dusty, wide-open beaks 
Upwards, look God square 
In the face and before you 
Know it—by thunder— 
Start gurgling 

Grace. 

One of These Days: A Parable of the Field Mouse

Little man, 
Just when you think 
You’ve made it through 

One more great, 
Simply fantastic flying 
Red white and blue day, 

A crepuscular screeching 
Flash of a hoot owl turning 
Your pinky moon face pale— 

How do you like that?
No more being 
Carried away.