January 23rd, 2017

— Stop

— Begin

— Cancel

— Terminate

— Ask

sign executive order
sign executive order

— Suspend

— Convene

— Implement

signal changing priorities
signal changing priorities

— Announce

— Withdraw

— Direct

— Propose

— Ban

accuse the media
accuse the media

— Impose

— Remove

— Lift

— Get rid of

*Found here: http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/politics/ct-donald-trump-day-one-20170123-story.html

January 23rd, 2017

January 21st, 2017

Hey, shit kickers
It’s about to get sicker
And you’ll be stuck
With the choices you have made

Hey, shit kickers
What will be quicker?
A little pussy grab
Or a friendly executive rape?

Nobody ever said
Gettin’ rich was easy
We got an oligarchy now
That cares about the workin’ class
But why do I feel so queasy?

Hey, shit kickers
Everything’s slicker
Cuz there’s a billionaire
Setting the elites straight

Hey, shit kickers
Maybe you been tricked, sure
But that’s OK
Cuz America’s gunna be great!

January 21st, 2017

January 20th, 2017

“There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.”
          – W.H. Auden

I had
to think
my dreams
were lost
but then

the Moon broke over me
into a billion pieces
of Mr. T cereal
and the Sun cried rivers
of whole, white milk.

Thus, with a mouthful
of crispy sweet corn
and oats,
     I screamed
to the Moon-missing Heavens above,
“Thank you, God,
for not ignoring me
in my darkest hour!

Thank you for forcing
your chosen son
to descend
from his cloud-cloaked tower
to restore a sheen –
     to fix the ills –
          to burn the unbelievers
          with a golden

But mostly,
thank you for sending
someone who is just like me,
a real man rich with rapacious desire
     to own everything and everyone –
          to only be
          the American Dream
          like our fathers
          before us.
My God!
I never knew
Democracy paid
such dividends!”

Whole, sun milk
my poor heart
from so much hope

and sugar

and grace.

January 20th, 2017

The Waterwood Box, 5

Catch up!

“Where’s your bathroom?” Leon asked Adam.

“Through the back door, take a right, go through the kitchen, down the hall, first door on your left. If you see my folks, tell them to come on out. I think we’re finished with cake.” Adam looked at Carlos, who had just served himself another piece.

“It’s so hot,” said Cory. “My dad says that if it doesn’t rain soon the rationing is going to get worse.”

“Like how?” asked Don.

“Probably have to start showering every other day or something” answered Seth.

“Oh man, we already all have to shower together at my house. If I have to see my sister naked one more time I’ll puke,” said Monkey.

Juan couldn’t pass up this opportunity. “You can send your sister over to my house to shower, Monkey. I’ll make sure she gets all cleaned up.” Again, all the boys laughed.

Adam heard the back door open and out came Leon. Mr. and Mrs. Might were right behind him with lawn chairs folded up in their arms. Before Leon could sit down at the table Mr. Might started to sing ‘Happy Birthday’. Mrs. Might and all the boys soon joined in and Adam felt pleasantly embarrassed. As the final line of the song came to a close, Mr. Might added “and many more” in a funny, high-pitched voice that sent all the boys into a fit of laughter.

“Open your presents!” they all cried. Adam looked at his mom and she nodded okay. He walked over to the gift table and the wooden box immediately caught his attention. He resisted the urge. If there’s no card, it’ll just have to wait until last, he thought. So, one by one, he went through the gifts. Juan and Cory had gone in together to get him a new video game. Mike gave him a couple of books. Even Carlos had brought him some comics. Mr. and Mrs. Might’s gift to their son was a Swiss Army knife. Adam’s smile broke wide when he opened the package and saw the knife. He looked up to his parents from the pile of unwrappings around him and grinned at them. Mr. Might saluted back. Before going on, Adam put the knife in his pocket.

The Waterwood Box, 5

The Waterwood Box, 4

Catch up!

Eight of Adam’s friends showed up to help him celebrate the big one-three. There was Cory McAry and Juan Villacruz (Adam’s two best friends), Mike Figgit (whom everyone called “Monkey”), Seth Bourder, Grant Willem, Carlos Marquez (whom Adam didn’t really like but had to invite because he was Grant’s best friend), Don Crane, and Leon Oliver. All of the boys were sat at the picnic table, talking, joking, eating cake, and sweating profusely.

“Man, I wish it would rain, rain, rain, rain, rain,” Mike said.

“Me too, Monkey,” said Juan. “Then I’d get to mow the lawn and help my mom in the garden again. Oh, God, please let it rain.”

“Whatever. Like your fat butt couldn’t stand to do a little work.” All the boys laughed. Juan and Monkey were quick to tease each other.

“Hey, Adam, why didn’t you invite any girls to this party?” asked Carlos. Some of the boys murmured a similar interest.

The question took Adam by surprise. He hadn’t really thought about why. “Umm…I just didn’t know who to invite,” he lied.

“Yeah, right. More like you didn’t know any to invite.” Carlos elbowed Grant and took another bite of his cake. “I dumf thinf I’f efah…” Carlos paused, swallowed, then continued, “seen you with a girl, man. What gives? You like girls, man?” A couple of the boys snickered but quickly stopped once they realized this wasn’t teasing like that between Juan and Monkey.

Adam was getting uncomfortable. He didn’t like Carlos and Carlos knew it. “I just wanted to hang out with my friends. That’s all.”

“What’s your problem, Carlos?” Cory interrupted. “It’s Adam’s birthday. Quit being a jerk.”

“Hey, I was just asking, man. Jeez.” Carlos leaned over to Grant and whispered something in his ear. Both boys laughed.

Adam looked at Cory and silently thanked him. They’d been friends since first grade and now they were about to start their last year of junior high together. Cory and Juan and Adam. The Three Musketeers, Mr. Might called them.

The Waterwood Box, 4

Country Lament #857

“Don’t be afraid of death,”
she said
right when
she squeezed that trigger

The light came then
and blinded me
as my skull and teeth did shatter

Death, oh, death
She always finds a way
With her great, white wings
And the pretty songs she sings
She always finds a way

“I’m not afraid of death,”
I thought
before I couldn’t think no more.

The blood spilled then
and sickened her
so she fled
right through that door

Death, oh, death
She always finds a way
With her great, white wings
And the pretty songs she sings
She always finds a way

Yes, she always
Yes, she always
Yes, she always finds a way
Yes, she always
Yes, she always
Yes, she always gets her way
Yes, she always
Yes, she always
Yes, she always finds a way

Country Lament #857