Napoleon had his Waterloo,
now Trump is in a kindred stew.
Not for him the loving cup;
he'll find instead the jig is up.
He shot his mouth off once too oft --
this time his landing won't be soft.
Friday, January 8, 2021
Money from Home
From Florida to Texas, from the San Fernando fields,
from meat plants in Nebraska and warehouses of windshields;
trabajadores are remitting home their sweat-encrusted yields.
La Paz has many mothers, as Tampico has its tias,
getting their pozole from the land of muchas frias.
Sons and daughters from Campeche keep such warm ideas.
Norteamericanos, if your places were reversed,
WOULD you be as willing to have your pay so disbursed?
(Gringos by warm sentiment have never been coerced!)
He knows all thy thoughts,
What a man proposes in his heart is not obscured
from the God of Heaven -- even when it's not matured.
Let no seed of evil in imagination sprout --
The Lord is always happy to help you to weed it out!
Otherwise on housetops all the world will see your shame
burning with a deep and loathsome acrid rancid flame.
Thursday, January 7, 2021
A visit from Amy
A visit from her quietly
shifts the poles and floods
the meadows of my mind.
You have someone like that, too.
Don't you?
If not, you've been dining on rind.
Joseph and Hyrum.
Joseph and Hyrum knew mobs very well;
knew that their power came only from Hell.
No good ever came from a mob on the prowl;
they're vandals and demons and ev'rything foul.
Avoid the thick crowd if you value your soul;
membership in one leads only to Sheol.
Wednesday, January 6, 2021
Put on thy beautiful garments.
Beautiful garments one day we shall wear
when in God's mercy we all fully share.
Yet such is the self-will of men I suppose
that some will still think their old rags are fine clothes.
Save me from pride and the folly of sloth,
that keeps me immured in such obstinate cloth!
Tuesday, January 5, 2021
The Porch Thief.
Sneaking in the dead of day,
stealing all my stuff away.
Trusting to black luck and truck
with a driver prone to stray.
Footage of your depredations
shall be broadcast to all nations --
as with Cain your name is muck.
The poet's life is quiet;
aloof yet quite serene.
His manner of greeting
is hearty, but fleeting.
And won't include treating --
for he hasn't got a bean.
Cancel my subscription.
"Why do you wish to cancel?"
the Indian gentleman queried,
but I was far too wearied
to tell a man who didn't care,
so far away in folding chair,
so said: "To build a chancel."
Our best days are ahead of us, not behind us.
Look ahead, and hope to gain
all the Lord for us doth deign.
Bitter as today may be,
tomorrow's possibility
holds miracles like clouds hold rain.
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