THE CANON OF FODDER
And ain’t every fodder
of every cannon
dying for someone else’s sins
Sweet Jesus as their model
THE CANON OF FODDER
And ain’t every fodder
of every cannon
dying for someone else’s sins
Sweet Jesus as their model
CHURCH AND STATE
If religion the opiate
politics the placebo
NEO IS THE NEW OLD
Can you remember
when the con in neo-con
did not stand for convict
COLLATERAL DAMAGE (SUPPLY AND DEMAND)
In a world of perfect balance
it is no wonder
so many innocents are killed
How else would one supply
the increasing number of martyrs
increasing demand for virgins
BACH IN IRAQ
I should have seen it coming
All the songs are machine guns now
It is not so far from rock, to rap
to rat-a-tat-tat
the beats getting harder and harder
and closer and closer together
Sitting at an Austin stop sign
cars filled with soldiers on each side
In a cross-fire of decibels, I think
“No one is playing Bach in Iraq”
as all three cars shudder and shake
I lift my hands in surrender
they keep firing
There are many ways to empty a bed
Disease, divorce, and wars of course
and by sleeping on both sides
CHAGALL
Chagall could fly in his paintings
but could not breathe in his house
If they’d had a good therapist
the world might be a poorer place
PSYCHOTHERAPY or A SIX YEAR OLD LEARNS ABOUT CLOCKS
The difficulty
in taking things apart to see why they tick
can often be
in putting them back together again
BOB MUD IN AUSTIN
(World’s longest mud painting on newsprint)
Bob paints in mud
Brush tickles the earth
She needed a laugh
PATRICIA FISKE’S BIRTHDAY POEM
Thirty thousand times
the earth has spun
And eighty times
Around the sun
Sometimes the sun burns you
Sometimes you burn the sun