Lord Snickerbottom Quits His Punk Rock Band Forever

I lack the aggressive tendencies,
the rebel's sneer, the style, the
strength and fortitude
to go on playing
with this show.

It's not as though I thought it over,
minced about, decided that your
means of making music
aren't worth
another go,

but while you were singing loudly,
acting brash and rather rowdy,
I was in my study
with the finest
escargot

and I had the realization
that my current occupation
is of poor configuration
for my talent
to grow.

So without intended rudeness
you must find another lutist.
I wish you all the best
and hope to see you,
cheerio.

While She Was Sleeping

She looked angelic, sleeping under the covers,
blankets tucked underneath her chin,
other thoughts trickling down her cerebellum.
Later she would relate her chagrin:
a celebrity had committed suicide, visions
of a strange bridge stretched over green water.
Neither are connected, but she confides
the water was rising in either painting.

Yeats Asks

Yeats waits
in eager anticipation
for an exalting
slow of breath.

Her chest heaves
in perfect time
to the ticking
of an impatient clock.

He strums his
fingers rapidly,
but softly,
lips pursed,
he asks,

"Why do men live
on earth
and not in heaven
from the beginning?"

She stirs,
languidly draping
words over the arc
of a thought.

His mind whirs:
the mechanics
of his motion lost,
but nearly caught.

The Bishop Speaks

Dollars per day, certainly not minimum wage,
and he came to our country holding roads
paved with gold within his head, growing
heavier by the minute, due for arrival
whenever they stop being delayed.

Said the white-collared man in Spanish,
his grandfather strove to finish what
he had been promised, and worked for,
ever since the first generation made it
across the desert and over the fence.

Sensing their rights as majority, the crowd
allowed their vowels to run long and low
over the Atlantic ocean without a hint
of pity, they professed an overwhelming
absence of good old fashioned American values.

When the congressman took the stand, dissent
stifled and dropped its torpid head.
Nevertheless it's heart beat on, bleeding
blue and red which muddled together
to a color that was barely human.

It was all a scam. The interest the man
earned was in his home currency and no
amount of earnest questioning could sway
the good intentions of a xenophobic ocean
cut into the hollow heart of his adopted country.

The Fall of Our Discontent

The sun also rises
to welcome the season,
chips frost from the lawn,
all without reason.

Then the grass grows
and I tend to my treason,
lighting small fires
to dance like a heathen.

My neighbors seethe,
call me a pagan,
while I'm drawing parallels
to their Ronald Regan.