Today's timericks

 

Republicans cry 'voter fraud'/and claim the process way too flawed/they want a recount that will drain/heart and hope and wealth and brain/but the only thing in doubt/is how to shoo that White House lout.

A fireplace with logs aflame/that crackles merrily/warms my old bones at day's end/but makes a thug of me/All that carbon up the flue/infallibly produces/greenhouse gas that's killing off/the birdies and the mooses!

Gimme a home in the suburbs/where COVID and crime are aloof/with plenty of room to set up my Zoom/and six bathrooms under my roof/Neighbors, though distant, are friendly/and they make good money, like me/we swim in our pools and have the best schools/and think of the slums with great pity/so what if my rent is outrageous/I sit in my hot tub and drink/sparkling wine and then lightly dine/on squid sauteed in its own ink/Perhaps I am selfish; however/when plague sits upon this great land/all charitable thought is easily bought/by donating pork & beans canned.

Today's timericks.

 

In the morning I take pills/for a slew of noxious ills/Then at noon I do the same/so my carcass can maintain/Just before I go to bed/more pellets go into my head/If any more I have to take/I'll sound just like a rattlesnake!

Old McDonald on his farm/looks at Biden with alarm/Sure, he hopes that tariffs shrink/but he also has to think/that environmental laws/won't come from some Santa Claus.

my student debt has lasted long/now Social Security/I'm collecting and am still/from that debt not free/in fact, if I default on it/the feds dig in with glee/and take away a goodly part/of my futurity.

Old Joe Biden took an axe/and gave to Facebook forty whacks/when he saw how well it played/he carved up Twitter with a blade.

Here in Utah, dried and cut/ev'rything is going shut/cases mounting, clinics strained/this virus will not be contained/time to grin and hunker down/welcome to a new ghost town.  

The standard has fallen, and so with McPlants/McDonalds as carnivore haven recants/Is there no honor, no esprit de corps/are flesh eaters forsaken forevermore?/I'll jump in a vat of tofu; yes I will/rather than give in to plant based false swill!

My words shall hiss forth

 

Like a hiss that penetrates,

God has words for all the states.

Pleasant to the humble ear;

for all others, full of fear.

Heed them now, ye nations swelled --

or later on you'll be compelled.

 

Today's timericks.

 

Burn out is a problem that has never bothered me/That's because I never took my job too seriously/The only thing that wearies me and causes much malaise/is watching New York Giants play on the odd Sundays.

The Paycheck Protection Program/attracted parasites/who fraudulently took some/very hungry bites/Mismanaged and exhausted/the fund is now so barren/there's nothing left to do/but stand around a-swearin'.

The Sunday dinners of my teens/full of rolls and lima beans/with a roast and taters, too/is but a nostalgic view/of a time when plenty sat/on the land like butterfat/cream pies bubbled in the stove/hams were studded with much clove/Gravy boats sailed happily/on a salted, fatty sea/Relish trays were large affairs/We all ate like millionaires/Then the calories barged in/and eating well became a sin/Nowadays a piece of fish/or boiled tofu in a dish/with a dab of cottage cheese/(not enough to feed dead fleas)/is what Sunday's all about/My Sabbath is a day of drought!

I'm dreaming of lemon bars; how about you?

So chewy and tart; they're a heavenly goo!

When I try to make 'em, the crust gets all burnt.

You'd think at my age I'd have finally learnt

to go to the store for this succulent treat,

so I never mess with the eggs, flour, heat --

an old man like me should be pampered, and spared

the making of food that has constantly erred. 

Hermounts

 

(photo courtesy of Rob Reed)

In scripture Hermounts is filled

with ravenous beasts,

waiting for injured human prey.

I am among the injured, Lord;

save me from the ravening claws

of 2020 fear and despair!

A list of Roman Cisterns.

 

I have made a study of ancient Roman cisterns

ever since last night.

They are of great interest to small bond holders.

The story they tell is out of the question.

Studying under Dagmar and Max Factor,

I initially agreed with their thesis that

all material matter is immaterial.

But the discovery of an Arctic Cistern Culture

in Burkina Faso last week

has shaken the periphery of

Western Civilization.

To say nothing of Paul McCartney's 

grandfather.

I'm not immune to the controversy. 

In fact, I've been to the dentist

twice in the past four months.

But as Menander has it --

Poetry is a victimless crime. 

********************************

A reader offers this suggested revision:

I have made a study of small bond holders

ever since last night.

They are of great interest to Max Factor and Dagmar.

The story they tell is out of the question.

Studying under the controversy,

I initially agreed with the thesis that

all Western Civilization is immaterial.

But the discovery of Menander 

in ancient Roman cisterns last week

has shaken the periphery of

Arctic Cistern Culture.

To say nothing of the dentist's 

grandfather.

I'm not immune to material matter. 

In fact, I've been to Burkina Faso

twice in the past four months.

But as Paul McCartney has it --

Poetry is not a victimless crime. 

A prayer for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

 

O Lord, the villain is deposed

as our election now has closed.

Joe Biden and Ms. Harris rise

as leaders bright before our eyes.

Please, Father, help us crush the imps

of spite and catch a better glimpse

of who we are and soon can be

as we repair our history.

Joe Biden is a bit antique;

please help him to revive, not creak.

Guide him to find that balance sweet

that brings consensus, not defeat.

And may Ms. Harris always be

his helpmate in this victory.

And should that villain cause a stir

and try our triumph to obscure,

may all the sprites in hell be loosed

until he has been well vamoosed!

Amen.

****************************

A reader's poetic response:

Thank you for your poetic rhymes, during these peculiar times.

Old men tear hair from their hoary heads, rather than rest in their downy beds.

This leader from another age, called upon to turn the page.

Will bring back hope and dignity, to a people brought down on their knees.

Let us now do what must be done, to nurture hope, the works begun.

Messages from God

 

Messages from God, I fear

are not oft seen as quick or clear.

He does not text, He does not phone,

and so some think we're all alone.

But through the storm or still of night

He's there to tell us wrong from right.

Choose you by the voice of this people.

 

The scriptures tell us that the voice

of the people made the choice

of who would govern them at times;

with virtue lead or pursue crimes.

The blessing of free choice remains

part of our sacred growing pains.

Today's Timericks.

 

The bladder of an old man is a sight for sorry eyes/a sneeze or cough produces an uncomfortable surprise/at night he's at the mercy of a single thirsty sip/as back and forth tween bed and throne he's forced to gaily skip/do not grow old, my chipper friends, or you will find your bladder/turns on you with cruelty like the foul puff adder.

I welcome all the wonders of a winter fairyscape/the icicles that gouge me and the windshields needing scrape/the sidewalks iced and waiting for a single misplaced step/the wind chill index reading as outside I bravely schlep/today it's warm and pleasant, but tomorrow it may be/the worst damn blizzard we have seen in a century.

Not yet called and holding tight, the race remains capricious/all this waiting seems almost to be a thing seditious/but whoever wins the prize, there's one thing that's for certain/With disaster this here land continues to be flirtin'.

Ev'rybody eats fast food/as they sit at home and brood/what is there to do but eat/watch Netflix and send a tweet/Hermits living hungrily/we depend on KFC.

Republicans will not concede/their fearless leader failed to lead/with heads secure in gritty sand/they will not take the proper stand/and so it's time to bid adieu/to a party up the flue. 

do not vote by Sharpie/it invalidates the slate/and you will be arrested/to confront an awful fate/better to have millstones/hung around your neck because/when the cops have got you/they will treat you like a scuz.

 

Where to go for privacy/A Ferris wheel or the Dead Sea?/There's no way I can get much done/when staying home is too much fun/I need a quiet working place/Perhaps I'll fly to outer space!