Requiem For A Lightweight
Requiem For A Lightweight – with apologies to Rod Serling Donald Trump is a confidence man Who wound up in charge of our land. But his gimmicks went wrong When he bought his own con And fooled himself with his own scam.
Harvest Festival
Harvest Festival In the early 1980s, every October I traveled from New York City to Plymouth, Massachusetts, to play a Dutchman. To be specific, I went from Nieuw Nederland op den Mannahatoes to Plimoth Plantation, where it’s always 1627, to impersonate the Opper Koopman, or Chief Trader, of the Nederlands West-Indische Kompagnie, who was also
The Pythoness Speaks For Herself
The Pythoness Speaks For Herself Theseus asked the Oracle what she wanted. “To die,” she answered.
Late November
Snow dust on dead grass. Autumn’s last leaves have fallen. My tears are frozen.
O, Waly, Waly
O, Waly, Waly The water is wide, I cannot get o’er. Neither have I wings to fly. Give me a boat that can carry two, And both shall row, my love and I. A ship there is, and she sails the sea. She’s loaded deep as deep can be, But not so deep as the
From Psalm 36
The transgression of the wicked saith within my heart, that there is no fear of God before his eyes. For he flattereth himself in his own eyes, until his iniquity be found to be hateful. The words of his mouth are iniquity and deceit: he hath left off to be wise, and to do good.
After The Flood
Like an old river, I remember where I ran, And try to flow there.
Song of the Mad Maga-Hatters
Song of the Mad Maga-Hatters Our thoughts go back to two thousand sixteen And the moment of bliss we shared When Lock-Her-Up Hillary left the scene, And The Donald into the White House went, And we roared to our hearts’ content. The Donald’s ended, But the enmity lingers on. Pence and the Don are gone,
Ding Dong!
Ding Dong! The Don has fled! Which old Don? The Trumpster Don! Ding Dong! The Trumpster Don has fled! Wake up, you sleepy-head! Rub your eyes, get out of bed! Wake up, the Trumpster Don has fled! He’s gone where the fraudsters go, Below, below, below! Yo-ho! Let’s open up And sing, and ring the
Visitation
Visitation In the night’s hollow my father stands before me, mad at being dead.