The Lord said long ago he would prepare a stone
so plots and evil deeds to prophets shall be shown.
Conspiracies today discovery await
and soon shall be exposed to meet their proper fate.
O man, don't be in haste to castigate a trace
of variance in folk until you know God's face.
I've always wanted to explore
Marmalade Lake in a boat;
to see the glaciers falling into the bays,
the brigand birds diving for bluegills,
and the sun reflected off the Crystal Isles.
I finally got my chance when a Friend
invited me up to his cabin on Marmalade
for a boat ride and picnic.
We set sail just after dawn in his pontoon boat.
The weather was magnificent; high clouds
and moderate temperatures, with a
sweet smelling breeze out of the southwest.
The hydrometer said we were seven hundred
feet above sea level.
The storm blew up suddenly
while we were netting driftwood.
It caught us by surprise.
"I have been here before"
my Friend said, refusing to take
any measures to save us or the boat.
"We drown and our bodies are slowly
eaten by kelp."
"Well, I've never been here before!"
I screamed at him as the waves towered
over us.
"I'm getting us out of here!"
I took the wheel and put the motor
into reverse, then extended the outrigger
pontoons on both sides.
We rode out the storm, soaked to the bone,
and I managed to guide us back to my
Friend's boathouse.
After changing clothes
we ate our delayed picnic
in my Friend's baronial dining hall.
There were Irish harps playing.
It had onyx tapestries hung
on the walls and vintage chalk Kewpie
dolls displayed in rosewood cabinets.
We did not mention what happened
on Marmalade Lake.
But my friend insisted on giving me
an original Picasso sketch, drawn
on a brand new tablecloth from the
Els Quatre Gats Cafe in Barcelona.
I use it to polish my brown Florsheims.
Which I always wear when I
walk among the living.
Out of obscurity comes the glad sound:
The Savior of Mankind has been duly crowned
by his own Father and soon will prevail,
aiding the humble in ev'ry detail.
Out of the darkness has come the true light;
bearing great kindness with absolute might.
So the lady that lived next door
to me in my apartment building
died in her sleep the other day.
Her children came by this afternoon
to her ground floor apartment to
move everything out through the
sliding patio door.
I didn't think too much
about her death
but that night I dreamed
she appeared to me in a nimbus
of cold blue light.
She never looked too good
in life,
and I'm sorry to report
that she
still looked pretty awful
in the Great Beyond.
Like five miles of bad road.
Even her robe looked dingy.
She just stared at me,
not in a threatening way,
but kinda sad and tired.
Didn't really see much exaltation
in her, to tell the truth.
Since she appeared not to want
to start the conversation,
I went first:
"I'm sorry to say that I never
knew your name" I told her.
"What is it?"
"Lucy Henderson" she replied
in a normal voice.
She didn't rattle any chains
or moan or float around like
a helium balloon --
and, quite frankly, I was
at a loss to know what she wanted
of me. If anything.
"Was there something you wanted
to communicate to me?" I finally asked her.
"Like the meaning of existence or maybe
a warning about global warming or somethin'?"
She began to disintegrate, breaking up into
tiny yellow pieces.
Before she was gone she said:
"Tell everyone to bring lots of quarters.
There's none here and the washers
and dryers won't take anything else."
Then she was gone.
When I woke up the next morning
I went down to the bank to get
a roll of quarters.
But then decided that was a
foolish thing to do.
Cuz, see, I'm gonna go
nudist in the Great Beyond.
The letter came on Sunday night --
an unheard of thing by the USPS;
but the mailman knocked on my door
that night just as I was making hot cocoa,
dressed in my robe and slippers,
and handed me the envelope with
nary a word of explanation,
except to say "Special Delivery."
The envelope was franked
from the Department of Justice
in Washington D.C.
I couldn't imagine what it was,
but it sure made me nervous.
So I drank my hot cocoa first
and then turned on a cheery
Netflix yuletide fireplace.
Now I felt cocooned enough
to face anything the Federal government
might throw at me.
I slit the letter open and
took out the thick parchment-like
paper --
notifying me that I had been taken off
The List.
"What list?" I said out loud,
to no one in particular.
I was soon to find out.
On Monday I went shopping for
soda crackers, liverwurst, and butter.
At the automatic checkout stand
a buzzer sounded when I swiped the
barcode on the butter.
"Sorry" said a big burly man
in a white apron, "but you're
not allowed to have any more butter."
"Huh?" I said through my mask,
feeling my mouth go dry. "What's that?"
"You're no longer on The List" he replied,
taking the butter out of my grocery bag.
Later that week I was in the park,
enjoying the way the evergreens were
bowed down under the recent snowfall.
A cop came up to me, looking me up and down,
and asked: "Are you Elmore Wiggins?"
"Yes, I am" I replied, even though I'm not --
I just wanted to see what would happen.
"Well, Mr. Wiggins, you should know better
than to loiter in this park looking at the evergreens"
the cop said severely. "You've been taken off The
List, you know."
Now I had him dead to rights,
the overbearing momser.
"It just so happens" I told him haughtily,
pulling out my wallet,
"that I am NOT Elmore Wiggins,
my fine feathered friend --
my name is Timothy Osborne Marmalade!"
And I stuck my driver's license
right under his big fat nose.
"So you are" replied the cop, squinting at my ID.
"So you are."
He turned silently and stalked away,
without uttering another word.
Boy, did I feel good that night
when I got home!
Like I had fought the whole
carnsarn Federal government and won!
To celebrate I brewed up a pot of Postum
and asked the neighbor lady over --
the one who keeps a cricket in a
small bamboo cage --
to have some with me,
along with liverwurst on crackers.
We stayed up laughing, snacking,
and being giddy
until almost ten that night.
And the next day
the very next day
nothing untoward happened.
So now I keep a cricket in a
small bamboo cage
and buy pounds of butter
at a time without any more hassle.
Of course, I've drawn a black mustache
on my face mask to disguise myself . . .
The wages of sin are not set
by anything other than sweat;
the harder you stray
the more you will pay --
and taxes will keep you in debt.
A vaccine is ready -- hooray!
And who gets it first of all, pray?
Not you and not me;
we've no pull, you see --
it goes to the largest outlay.
Texas no longer can stick
their nose in some far bailiwick;
the judges have spoke --
their lawsuit's a joke.
Go back to your oil wells, you hick.
God came down to live with man;
to ache as only mortals can.
His empathy for us complete,
as friend and brother he will greet
each one of us in robes of dawn
when to our Savior we are drawn.
The ritual of coffee/to wake up in the morn/is one I ne'er developed/and look upon with scorn/What sets my blood a-racing/before the sun arrives/is how the damn Republicans/are acting like fishwives.
The dinosaurs revenge have got/as fossil fuels make things too hot/Their bones in our museums crow/as greenhouse gases still do flow/Invest in coal or oil or shales?/I'd rather use a bed of nails!
Who will get the vaccine first?/Millions for it madly thirst/Why not start with politicians/and their scheming mad ambitions/And if there should be a hitch/no harm done -- we'll simply switch/to a different brand tout suite/while partisans go obsolete.
Remember when Friday was THE special day --
We will give you sleepy drinks
Employment is still a rare trick
with economies still very sick.
To keep your job safe
shut up and don't chafe --
the boss's boots you'll want to lick.
Dear Santa: All I want this year
is one more check my bank to clear
from Uncle Sam to help me out,
cuz I have been a real good scout.
And in my stocking, if you please,
a lowering of mortgage fees.
Slapping pucks around, my son,
on the pond is not as fun
as when the New York Rangers play --
for that, good coin I sure will pay.
But if the players still want raises
the whole dang season goes to blazes!
