The sky is dark, the world is bleak
The market’s down—all cause for pique.
Contrariwise, bp’s alright,
The larder’s full, the roof is tight.
But Pakistan’s a hopeless mess,
Afghanistan a raw abscess.
Meanwhile, our new book’s coming out
To praise and royalties—no doubt!
Earth, hurtling, falls to flaming hell—
But here, at home, we do quite well.
(10/13/09)
Deductions, credits—
Many ways to warp the world!
Move to where we push!
(10/8/09)
Sometimes instruments,
Too heavy, create havoc!
Our Revenue Code
Cracks its own spine, desolates,
Kills green shoots, salts fertile fields.
(10/7/09)
Capital gain—good!
Qualified dividend—good!
Interest, wages?
Not so good. How strange. Reward
The rich, pummel workingmen!
(10/7/09)
From the LA Times, 9/28/09
“Palestinians,” the headline read,
“Try to stop a Jewish prayer event. . . .”
Right there, in Jerusalem—hotbed
Of god. Passing strange! Those tempers bent,
Ruptured into rage. “You can’t pray here!”
“Yes we can.” Issue of Abraham,
Both mobs there demented by their fear
Of cousinhood; deadly flimflam sham!
(9/28/09)
Learned a new word yesterday–
Syn’-co-pe’.
Zippy, no?
Sounds somewhat like
A Scottish highland fling,
Or Cajun stew,
(Without the okra).
Mazurka music,
Courtroom briefs—
At the very least,
A Grecian holiday!
Alas, it’s none of these.
It’s when the blood
Deserts the brain—
You fall down flat,
And, if fortunate,
Wake again,
Wondering
What the fuck was that?
(9/27/09)
Face it! Some weird stuff goes on. Tradition
It’s called. Jewish grooms must crush a shot glass!
What’s that all about? Some prohibition?
The second temple ruined? Everlasting
Union since that glass remains forever
Smashed? Sheesh! And then there’s holy Ramadan.
Eat, drink, carouse all night—but not a bite
From sunrise to dark! Yet, you can con
The system, chomp chow down (untainted) if
You feed a homeless fellow too. Sin’s price
Rebated by good deeds, perhaps? God’s miffed
At hats in church, bare heads in shul? Dicey—
Since women’s rule’s the other way around!
And what do eggs and bunnies have to do
With rising from the tomb? How profoundly
Does that charred lamb bone celebrate the rue
Of slavery? Never mind! Tevye sang:
“Tradition! Where would we be without it?”
I’ll tell you where (think just a little bit)—
Without religiosity’s harangue,
We’d evacuate superstitious shit!
(9/27/09)
