The night rain cooled the following day, making it feel like winter. Climate change continues to wreck the weather, and spring days bloom in winter. Earthworm carcasses rot in drying puddles. Freshly cut grass soaks the air and drowns the lungs. A murder of crows pecks at the bloated insect bodies floating atop the grass. Their joyous caws echo across the overcast sky. The feathers on their swollen bellies gleam from my car's headlights.
"I'll have the 3-piece chicken strip combo with hot sauce, and a medium Cherry Coke." A crow waits below the drive-thru window.
"Here's your order." Medium Cherry Coke crosses the facing windows. "Than—" The crow strikes the brown bag and spills the order on the floor.
"Please pull around to the front, and I'll redo your order." The crow's laughter reaches the front of the building and follows the fast-food server back inside.
Laying facedown in the dirt, I exhale a prayer:
Is it wrong to question God on my configuration?
I ask, standing or kneeling on this foundation of
bone. Rising to occasions I never sought, with
proof of divinity yet to be shown.
Would you laugh if I were to tell you that the
galaxy were made of milk? Or that faith is made
of cheese? Time weathers while burdens erode,
and it’s best to appreciate the sediment, for it builds
over time to your version of God, and it’s for the
best you better believe in it.
Otherwise you’ll find yourself laying in the dirt,
asking silly questions and thinking silly thoughts,
scrambling up to get the mud off of your jeans.
What a mad world this one must be.
Mad, mad indeed.
How I describe
my son’s guinea pigs?
Are they rodents from hell?
Are they sausages with hair,
from hell?
One rodent,
two rodents.
Which one is better?
It doesn’t matter.
They are both
food for my snakes
and poop machines.
Anyone want 'em?
I will pay you to take them.
And here’s a haiku:
actually not.
I’m not high
(that’s a lie).
My son’s guinea pigs
(this is not a G-aged poem)
are a ******* “beast of burden”
If you are that biased.?
Just remain silent.'
Speech without freedom..
Is as travestry, within hippocracy'
Un-sanitized adulterized
Formalised lunacy, thats plain
To see, should you? ask me.'
All that
remains
of our
love
is a faded Polaroid,
a carton of cigarettes,
and two cases of beer.
I'll forget you soon,
but for now,
I'm cracking open
another one—
let's hope these
memories
blur!
I'm secretly
a genius, trouble
is, I'm the only
one who knows
about it.
I'm much too
shy to show it,
and I'm much
too mad to keep
it constant.
I'm either busy
laying in my bed,
missing out.
Or overworking
myself to the point
of exhaustion.
There's no
in-between.
And that,
my friends,
is brilliant.
Comedic moments when some people talk harshly about things they couldn't understand
It's like trying to criticize the ground where they stand
Without understanding how it came to be
Even dirt on their faces, they could not see
Sadness becomes the pall over depression’s bleak coffin
Closing the florid lid on satin-encrusted chests of dismay
Where the stench of a life is entrusted to death and decay
Left in the hopeless depths of a dug-out trench, too often,
Then promptly forgotten unless one is renown, say, a star*
Whose life was made palatable by imaginative, fictional roles
Seen on the silver screen, or the editing room floor, souls
Of characters people like you and me can identify with afar.
Yes, sadness as vanquishing as the dying bloom thirsting
For water will eventually bend and wither overwhelmed
While no one ever asks why, not even I who am compelled
To confess with sadness my beleaguered heart is bursting.
No epitaph suffices for one reaching for twinkling stars
Comes crashing to a final exhalation covered with scars.
Written June 14, 2021
[*In Memory of the incredibly talented Robin Williams who
died by suicide caused by depression on August 11, 2014.]
COMEDIC REDEMPTION
Once when that black ice cloud chilled me again
In mind and heart, it froze all aspiration
Taking me below resentment fear or pain
To a hopeless state of cold dark enervation
A voice on air waves transformed my demeanour
A fabled comic, stand up routine performing
His art, and vital zest were my spirit's redeemer
Irreverence blest achieved a mind's reforming
The fog of despond cleared, I then saw light
And hugged myself for shared joy, laughter, life restored
Though my problems might still exist, it was alright
I could face them and they didn't have me floored
So a blessing on those with talent to give us mirth
Holy, impious power to show life's balance and shatter
The belief that all has solemn, significant worth
And see that sometimes it really doesn't matter
Let lightness and joviality infect our space
Spread from Jupiter to gloomy Pluto and Angry Mars
So that even God won’t admonish, but crack his face
And laughter then will echo round the stars
The Comedic Candidate
Joe Dougherty
Down a path through a wooded glen
Strolled the old hapless comedian
His humor now but a memory fading
His life spent merely masquerading
Things are seldom as they appear to be
And the serious life was not for he
Laughter was his gift to give
But a nobler life he’d wished he’d lived
Times of plenty fade away
Hearts of greed now rule this day
No time for fooling or child’s play
It’s off to work there’s bills to pay
So tally up your life in things
And pay your taxes to the Kings
IPOs and Margin Calls
To play the game it takes some balls
They stack the losers out of sight
Those lazy bastards they have no rights
For all of this belongs to me
I stole it fair and square you see
Watching all the shenanigans
Brought a smile to the comedian
And through it all he was quite sad
But the last laugh was his to have
Comedic Penny Pincher
Jack Benny’s
Comedic persona was to pinch pennies.
Every week he would lead his merry band
And Rochester would always get the upper hand.
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