the jokers in charge

can go to hell
this is one shrew
who fights back



The rules of life

‘When a rich man chases after dames he’s a man about town, he’s a man about town.
When a poor man chases after dames he’s a bounder he’s a rounder he’s a rotter and a lot of dirty names.’ – ‘When the idle poor become the idle rich’ [song from Finnegan’s Rainbow]

They depend upon your birth,
these arbitrary signs
tweeting elements that are
designed to give advantage
to the pointed cap –
resign yourself to it.

Money fat does this to the bees,
bring on the DDT-like lie
of how and where nourishment
enters each atom of our being –
every organ, whether rat or flea.

A punishment driven society
uses money as might –
it wields like the hammer hitting,
driving nails through flesh on a cross
message sent and received –
oh me oh me oh me.

Taunt the people as they die
with what you have that will
never be theirs-
not morsel of fruit, nor
option to extended life
brought by science-
yet deny it.

The trillion-aire at last!
Our future king of the hill,
perches over wasteland
brought on by

the way we live.
This is how the people perish
into never ending
silence – alas
we release generations future
from greed.


I know a lady

I know a lady
who speaks with her eyes
and moves with her arms,
a mother bearing her child.

She’s the devil some say
who will haunt your dreams
and steal away with your youth,
leaving naught but a skeleton

She’s a muse in winter,
the red of her cheeks
soaked against pale skin,
like the blood spilled from a doe’s heart
so a human can feast.

She is only a child
who follows her whims,
like a vulture circling a carcass
up in the sky, the screeches
bid her eat.

I know a lady
who resembles stone,
cool and closed and hard
some say,
but like stone she’s been hacked
and molded and shaped
by a sculptor’s heartless hand.