It happens over there,
a suburb, a state or half a world
or more away from where I live
in a quiet street with roses and hedges
hanging over front fences
with newly planted trees spaced
along a footpath the council truck
waters once a week.
For anything to get past
and make it to here must be filtered,
sanitised and packed in biodegradable
pouches and come with conditions
clearly stated in print bold enough
to see at arms length and most
important of all, have an off switch
that can be activated by an app
on a phone or a remote control.
What's more, it must be kept short
not taking too much time for it to clash
with commitments I previously made
over a coffee at the gym or make
me feel bad by its content or tax
my nerves by taking me to a place
which I have no desire to go.
So, I would be pleased if you kept it
over there, housed within the confines
of a television screen and sandwiched
between ads and promos for the latest
"Reality" show. And to keep
my conscience pristine, provide
an address I can send
a small donation to on my credit card
with a receipt so I can claim
the expense on my next
income tax return. Thank you.
About Priest and His Face Would Ponder
About priest and his face, we did ponder,
And maybe some spell he may be under;
Have heard he can hardly carry a note;
Sounds like someone run over by a boat.
Of your mind, priest tried to make invasion;
He forgot equation you use for persuasion,
And does have a great ability to associate,
With pleasant parents who would be great.
After all of the statistics, we had compiled,
Found out our new priest is an only child;
Trump did take us on a rather difficult ride,
So surely will have to let God be our guide.
Priest's wide broad smile had been spread,
And no doubt, by Jesus will want to be led,
On by our priest who us was sure to spurn,
Knowing he did receive income tax return.
Jim Horn
Get Out of Cooking
It either ended up being tall
Or really had seemed so small
When you want it to sound best
For it to pass each and every test.
Even when harder you will try
And in the end blinked each eye
What in middle managed to be caught
Had become some small simple dot.
What you found after further analyzing
Turned out being something surprising
For a while longer after you would yearn
You owed money on income tax return.
Guess that time of you its starting to be
When my wife had wanted for her and me
On another nice cruise again to go
But ended up boat to China which was slow.
Then guess what happened, Oh my Lord
We had our fiftieth anniversary on board
After further inspecting and much looking
What she would do to get out of cooking.
Laugh, laugh and laugh some more.
Even after our thoughtful twilight nears
You guessed what will happen in two more years.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
Romney Loses to the President
By Elton Camp
Six years to be president he waited
The outcome he understandably hated
He said whatever people wanted to hear
And sought every chance to bend their ear
“That skunk who’s in there now is no good
So to elect me as president is what you should”
“It’s true that I am a fellow who’s filthy rich
But I still have concern for those in the ditch”
“Yes, it’s a low rate of income tax I pay
But it’s legal and ought to stay that way”
“No, you can’t see my income tax return
To see what I give and how much I earn”
“Okay, in foreign banks I keep my dough,
But that’s nobody else’s business, though
“While that yellow Big Bird I like okay,
He’s a needless expense that must go away”
“You’ll wish you didn’t re-elect that slob
When he can’t help you to get a job”
Romney may not be as ungracious as this
But he’s bound to be miffed at his miss
One day, I saw a very unusual thing
in a business newspaper I was perusing.
It was a brief story present on the front page.
A taxpayer considered this thing an outrage.
He was a very honest and straightforward man,
an American from the island of Saipan.
This is a territory in the Pacific;
the Marianas Islands to be specific.
He filed his Federal Income Tax return.
He did not omit anything that he would earn.
The territory was reported as “M. I.”
Some IRS agents soon caught this with their eye.
It appeared that somebody goofed up again.
He got a state income tax form from Michigan.