She left at the yawn of dawn
Between fog-densed waking hour
And rain-soused grey morning.
Veiled, her image was laced in silhouette.
She stood behind the fog-rain, a dark
Painting, sketched in black crayons of
Languor.
Her breath, one streak of ink
Of a satanic fresco on a dingy subway.
And the breath of the rain was heavy,
Brewed in hauteur -
So was the world between us two,
Lame and proscribed.
She wandered through flighty directions.
Grouches filled her lugubrious lungs,
Blotches on the sludged track, echoing
Her slouch.
She was one mass of trembling grief.
I was one hulk of ruinous pain.
Between us, the funeral of love.
Threnodies held court on the once soft
Yolk of hugs that sensitized an ageing
Romance.
Dawn darkened with the pulse of grief
Rain pelted the senses held by solemn
Consternations, recreating a fruitless
Void of hollow trepidations.
She lurched and sidled towards the
Crag-lined route, towards earth’s drooling
Beck... and I knew the funeral
Was over.
I like some people much better than others.
Whiners – stay away.
Complainers, gripers, grouches grumpy grousers – no thanks.
Of course, if they are relatives I tend to put up with them a bit.
But not one second longer than I have to.
If you show up at my door and I like you, you may come in.
Be aware, however your shoes have to be put on the refrigerator.
I have a five-foot-long puppy who loves to chew shoes.
I like dogs better than any people, but you are welcome
As long as you do not suggest obedience school for me or the pup.
A school somewhere
in the West.
Simply does not pass the
smell test!
To say children cannot
have Halloween
Is not kindness, it's horribly
obscene!
They must be Socialists,
I think.
Dyed a shade of bright pink.
Because all costumes must
be of equal value?
These kinky teachers think
of course, they don't think of
kids as having any fun!
As their Socialist brains soak
in the freebie sun.
Halloween is a truly social,
not a Socialist event.
Not meant to please their far
leftist bent.
Many are grouches about
Halloween.
Let the children have fun and
be little kings and queens!
It takes no brains to make a
costume!
I really hope they change their
child -soul- crushing tune.
10/17/2021
A Prophet Named Moe
By Elton Camp
Lately, he’s been feeling low
The prophet who’s named Moe
To his shrink he made a call
Where old Moe did bare it all
“My followers are way too stern.
Widespread contempt they earn.”
“If folks draw a picture of me,
Nothing is wrong that I can see.”
“Those grouches it won’t choke
To appreciate a humorous joke.”
“Rather, it’s blasphemy they yell
Then assign infidels down to hell.”
“Also, murder they try to justify.
It makes me sad and want to cry.”
“I think that Charlie magazine
Is the funniest one I’ve seen.”
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