Broken Aerial on the White House Lawn
Tiniest
details
Tend
to pale the big picture
If
they are dull
It
can affect the overall
So
that a ball
Doesn’t
enthrall
Those
looking in
See
it as this
A
fleeting mist
The
mask is corroded
Message
encoded
Gems
are paste
What
a waste!
The
music plays on
Real
musicians gone
It
is all a ruse
To
keep us confused
What
is the law?
Is
stuck in my craw,
I
want a drink
Because
this stinks!
His
finger poised
He’s
making noise
He
wants to be trusted
His
logic’s busted
I
can’t endorse
This
wicked horse
As
he isn’t a beast of burden
Just
a burden of a beast
There
is no grand ball
In
a wonderful hall
We
are choking
On
our own spit
This
is it!
Admit
the party’s over
We’re
not in clover
We
have to find we
Not
in some place overseas
But
here where we are at
Not
with a big bat
Let
go of our fat
Get
fighting trim
Go
out on a limb
Give
peace a chance!
Ode to Maria, Our Plucky Cuckoo Maran
Oh
feathery butt,
Around
our yard
looking
hard for bugs
As
I sip out of my mug
I
see you tug
I
watch as you consult
Your
cohort girl and together
You
dig and roll
I
find you very droll!
Black
and white specks
Jumping
up to peck
And
eat that leaf
Just
out of reach
You
can fly
Oh
but why?
When
you can jump!
As
you claim that juicy clump
Of
new spring leaves
That
is small, but tease
You
out of your frigid winter phase,
You
pause and reflect
What
you suspect is true
That
even chickens have to thaw
And
move to improve
There
is no chicken spa
That
you can go to
And
so you jump up again
To
move your mass
This
time you spin
And
miss it all together
I
snort my tea
For
this I’d pay a fee
To
see your enthusiastic sprints
Or
Herculean attempts
To
get that one tiny scrap of spring
Without
using your wings
Oh
lovely girl that you are!
Forever
in my heart
What
a tickle of joy
You
impart
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