Rife with reasons to soft shoe this stampede
I’m going to heel-toe and pearl clutch poetry

I hear the herd and fear for the sheep
but too steep this self-referential sleep walk
through all the manure, and bully pulpit bathos

living language informs people present-
eulogy’s lyric can tender tempo a passing-
but a body politic self-deceived is diseased
beyond comprehension, and perhaps, beyond

NaPoWriMo April 2020. Number 1

About the author


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

Comments? Cool!

%d bloggers like this: