Category Archives: Poem

Alabama’s Small Win Sonnet

Ere we give too much in celebration

Over Senator Jones’s victory

The constitution needs meditation

The man who almost won is history

Thomas Jefferson & his old Posse

Denied “establishment of religion”

But, as is their wont, the faithful are bossy

(This Alabama porch monkey near won!)

Remember the country’s in the soft hands

Of oligarchy who deny us crumbs

Driving to work in your car understand

Long ago the battle was won by bums

Demand what we gave 1940s whites

Tax the fucking rich & demand your rights

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Paper Maché Identity Sonnet

The remnants of my dreams cling in fragments

Like the torn strips of wetted news paper

Soaked in Wheatepaste and glue to be pliant

I’m only a paper maché cover

The pasteboard mask that I present to you

Made up of the finest linen paper

Is a simulacrum that is untrue

Made to help me pull off this bold caper

Who is anything more than a puppet

Strings leading up to the bold puppeteer

(Or a hand reaching up to control it?)

Once we know this we can play without fear

The script that we are performing each day

Was written long ago & far away

Pathetic Suicide Sonnet

I have mixed emotions about this death

The murders he committed were social

The actions he did had a wider breadth

All of America remains crucial

Racism’s territoriality

Has been like this since the Pilgrims landed

Treating colored inferiority

Like it is a fact is so wide spreaded

That even those who would never chase Blacks

Accept that cops do it regularly

If you think this ain’t true, remove ear wax

& think of stop and frisk more honestly

This beige academic has judged that guy

But in my heart of hearts, I know not why

Sonnet as a Plea for Freedom

I must escape the media maelstrom

The vortex of virtual violence

Where the ideas of the basest are shown

For the bottom line wealth’s prurience

From the right wing I get primitive lies

Parroted by the mainstream media

Obscuring their white supremacist ties:

Equivalence: hypoglycemia

From the left impotent sanctimony

Dribbled keystrokes from a million iPhones

“Being Right’s” the vapid patrimony

Of people who forgot how the knife’s honed

So if you want to save me, send a letter

To a politician: make him better

Doubt in an Uncertain World Sonnet

Our beliefs are just what we think about
Even if they build these thoughts a cathedral
They’re merely thoughts: we can choose to opt out
Belief is freedom for ourselves: simple

If I choose not to believe in magic
Should not spoil your enjoyment of the show
I am an agnostic heckler tragic
Believe in religion: the way you know

The agnostic or atheist’s freedom
To (dis)believe in all your rituals
Is how the God that I doubt made it, son
So we each have “spiritual victuals” 

Believing in Yahweh, Allah or Christ
Does not mean that I have to sacrifice