Shit-stained Yoga pants
Preppers without face masks
Walmart is Ground Zero
It’s a frightening petri-dish of folks when shopping. #fullbodycondom
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Awash in love torrents
Blessed by their care and thoughts
We live forever, yes?
How fortunate we are to have love in our lives. What a glorious and generous gift.
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“More and more, I have the feeling that we are getting no where. Slowly, as the talk goes on, we are getting nowhere. And that is a pleasure. It is not irritating to be where one is. It is only irritating to think one would like to be somewhere else. Here we are, now. A little bit after the middle…orignally, we were nowhere. And now again, we are having the pleasure of being, slowly, nowhere.”
John Cage
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Midwest Monsoon time/ the basement will hold it all/ the house stays afloat
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Cascading
From the roof
The chatter
Of the storm
Our power
Stays on
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Blinded by the wet
Misty clouded world of storm
Please drive safe, wife
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rain pours from gutters
as we huddle together
the dog wets my lap
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Shit Stained liars speak
Offering words of wisdom
The polls are open
Specificity is the soul of narrative – John Hodgman
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Signs clog the corner
Candidates on active show
The toilets are full
My block is full of signs for local political candidates. All vying for space admist the weeds, trash and flotsam. My dog pisses on them every time we go by. #goodboy
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Billiard Ball wouldn’t dare talk
To the cops about ‘Beansie’ Rosenthal
Eventually offering him a chance to walk
If he threw Gyp the Blood and Vallon to the wall
They all worked for top cop Becker
Rat King of Graft in Manhattan
Known to make ‘problems’ disappear
In his control of the crime-ridden metropolitan
They shot ‘Beansie‘ twice in the head
“He’s a goddamn coward and talks too much”
Convicted Lt. Becker for being the lead
Of the late-night killers held in the clutch
By DA Whitman who prosecuted them all
Becker and company electrocuted in Sing Sing
For their murderous conspiracy did fall
As the Underworld of NYC rejoiced reveling
True crime poetry sample. Mining the criminal cases of yesteryear.
Outlaw Poetry 