Syria has questions

Alliances form a grizzly trifecta
Putin, the goat, and Assad
Chemical weapons remain unperturbed
And a veto sows discord

What of improved relations
When the heart of the matter comes down to sanctions?
Will the goat find his cherries to oppose the snow swept Kremlin?
But what about the “enemies of the people”?
Surely they’ll pelt american citizens with newspapers
Why worry about chemical weapons
When the real danger comes from fallen trees

The goat found his cherries and is nibbling
We are in crisis

The executive branch

The evening is about to expire
Props are being taken down
He doesn’t know what to say except
“No one is stomping on the floor that is your ceiling”

The waters take in the sunset, a little wary
At all the transitions
Not one, nor two, nor three, nor four
But in this new land counting doesn’t matter
A waste of brain space
The sunset sure is pretty
Look at the beautiful dying rays cascading onto Lincoln’s face
Now look at the stunning river. Quite beautiful. Mesmerizing.
We’ve created it so be grateful!
Look at how the bushes sway in the breeze
What did we say about counting?
The marble steps will be installed this year
Don’t count them, you’ll get dizzy

Don’t forget to count your eyes, though
Both of them, and that of your entourage
As you marvel at the opulence
Your tax dollars benefit your eyes
As you traverse the waters
Or look upon those devil heads that peddle falseness in all its splendor
Or think about the TPP as you fall asleep
Or a wall that doesn’t go beyond what you thought that day

And hey, don’t forget these microphones
They were made in america by automatons

Vote 2020 for caskets made in USA

A Pleasant Rendezvous

They met to writhe on a bed of snow
The night had just begun, though
Stamina being key
To a long, healthy, stress free life

It keeps the heart fit
The brain nimble
Admirers with their mouths agape

Don’t forget pressed suits
They’re most important
But a close second is the tainted meatloaf
And pink ties
And the repudiation of offices offered
And “he said, she said”

They cast doubt upon intelligence
Bureaucratized or otherwise
Phone calls made
Fiefdoms like little vassal states

“Your job is what I tell you it is”
Then he’ll say “at least you have a job”

O Liquid Life

Now clean water is under siege
Your cells cry out for it
Soon plastic will be around your neck
Oil cloaking your skin
Sun draining the life from your overworked bones

Death by pop can is a harsh way to go
But an executive order can give you a nice funeral
At least, a superficial one
With flowers, a morning crowd
A pleasant, nostalgic inducing sky

Then a man shows up
Authentic in some ways and not in others
Tells you that a force unseen created his mistakes
What a nice funeral
You’ll always remember that day
When a kempt man tromped on sacred flowers and stole a dead man’s voice

The Dark Slight

The bat
Trods on that yellow plane
Marveling at current enemies
Wondering why they seem so distracted

They look positively enthralled
At some scene taking place within their circle
A scene that excludes any hero
Especially the winged one

Much to the winged one’s dismay
The circle tightens
But the bat perseveres
Elbowing into the center of the circle
A bat is stretched tight and beautiful across a steel contraption

All the villains are laughing
Not cackling
Just laughing for the fun of it
Bets are placed
For when the bat will finally break across the steel sword

The winged one waves both dark gloved hands in a flurry
But no one noticed
Was he irrelevant?
Or simply not in the right body at the right time?