Category Archives: Politics
Cleansing
Someday the land will subside beneath the sea Hiding the rocks that Hiroshima was built on. But the shadows printed on stone will remain Someday the ocean will again cover the land That once held up the chimneys of Auschwitz … Continue reading
Our Songs are Stronger Songs
Dedicated to the Labor Arts Exchange. This seems like lyrics for a folk song that someone should write. We have walked for countless years, We have marched for countless miles, And our songs are stronger songs. From the factory, from … Continue reading
Pre-election Jitters
I listened: This is a time of fountains, of babbling brooks, of rushing rivers. I watched: the full moon and clouds, on the holy sea. I felt: Fog. For today: predictions. For tomorrow: a prophesy. Bright morning star, Great eastern … Continue reading
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
In Memory of PFC Barry Winchell (1978-7/5/99) Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Don’t you ever, ever yell, even if they beat you and it hurts like hell. Don’t ask. Don’t tell. Don’t you ever, ever yell, even if they beat you … Continue reading
Twenty-eight Bullets
Bang. Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. … Twenty-eight times. On his own doorstep – ‘suspicious behavior’. “Never again!” What does that mean?
Politics, Law and Power
Politics, law, power in general is like sex. You can do it for fun, for love, and for money. Multiple motives? Sure. But which comes first?
This Job Stinks!
This job stinks. Lousy pay, working weekends. And I’d better not get sick. The job ain’t going nowhere, Unless it goes to India. The wife don’t respect me like she should, Don’t listen to me like she should. The kids … Continue reading
This Little Light of Mine
This is a new verse, or added chorus, of a traditional folk song. MY verse has not been recorded. The original song can be found here. Eyes to see / and ears to hear, with hands to hold to / … Continue reading
‘Knock, Knock’ Jokes
These ‘Knock, knock’ jokes aren’t very funny. This poem is already too long. And it keeps getting longer. Knock, knock. Who’s there? Trayvon. Trayvon who? Trayvon Martin, who just left his house to go to the store. Knock, knock. Who’s … Continue reading
Kirkbride Street War Zone
Here a house holds. Curtains in the window unfurled. paint and a tricycle on the porch proclaim: “We’re staying.” Down the street, empty windows and shattered panes stare at the sky. The speculator’s plywood standard is nailed across the door. … Continue reading