‘Tis The Season …

Tis the season

of no reason

logic has fled

into the wintery night

on a sled

of lies

that incite

passions unchecked

with a bad effect

upon us all

save us from stupidity

holding so many in thrall

Now we need

a new season

with reason

where truth is told

and knowledge

is treated like gold

-30-

Some Like It Hot

ghost peppers are the pinnacle

when it comes to hot as hell

people faint at their very smell

breath escaping from tortured throats

connoisseurs praising the heat

as the best thing to eat

while daring novices

slowly turn a bright red

wishing they’d tried something else instead

Remembering A Myth From My Childhood

Seven decades have not diminished one myth I grew up with. It has a place of honor in my head that makes me smile. I still remember when I heard what would happen to my vision if I wacked my weinie!

I was undeterred and ready to go blind at eleven when I tossed caution aside in favor of pleasure – after some experimenting – and crossed the line between boyhood and manhood. I look back now with fondness at my innocence.

I never could fully understand the taboo against exploring my own body but would have preferred to be thrown in a cauldron of boiling oil than admit that. I joined my peers in mocking others accused of that crime of solo indulgence. It was a mean meme before there was such a thing.

My recollection of who came up with the myth is fuzzy, but I’ve narrowed it down to the church and parents universally who don’t want their offspring to ever have sex.

The End

An Empty Theatre

the wind whistled through the rafters of the theatre, producing a symphony for the stars

who no longer danced on the wooden stage below

where dramas and comedies once would flow

ghosts of performances long gone gathered in the rickety seats to watch their lives unfold

their personal stories never to be told

only the playwright’s stories will never get old

Laughter and tears

dominated for years

then the bombs came

and nothing was ever the same

Revisionist History

Looking back over the rivers of time

History is malleable

and easy to redefine

regimes do it all the time

but in the end

the truth remains the same

writing about the past

has always been a game

where conquerors are good

and losers take the blame

-30-

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