Masterpiece is back.
Mysteries we’ve waited for.
Murders to be solved.

Sunday evening
is best for all our viewing.
Thanks to the British.

Such suspense is great
to be witnessed, not much gore —
intrigue all the more.

He snapped his towel gently
at the chocolate lab’s butt.
The dog jumped and barked
and growled playfully.
The next lab just got his
feelings hurt
so the man stopped
snapping the towel
and just let out a growl
and the lab wagged his tail
and barked for joy playfully —
same breed, different personality.

When in grief deeply distraught
I wondered what I ought
to do to find a caring face
and companion’s embrace.

And seemingly out of nowhere
I looked up and began to stare.
You were there and I knew
you might be the one — true.

In years, that was twenty-four ago
and, my, how the years do flow.
I did learn to love again
two years before the minister said amen.

When I was a senior in high school an English teacher
told us that if we went to the University of Illinois
and turned in a paper in our freshman 101 English class
with a misspelled word, we would flunk the class.

I, a notoriously bad speller, stayed home and went
to junior college, where I had a very demanding teacher
for English 101, but he forgave me for my misspellings,
gave me encouragement and I went on to major in English
even though I couldn’t spell my way out of a paper bag
and kept the dictionary and Thesaurus closer than the
Bible.

My teacher said that one day there would be an
internet and a thing called spell check and “all
will be well; all manner of things will be well.”
Actually, he didn’t say any of that, but things
did work out. The “all will be well; all manner
of things will be well” is a partial quote of
Julian of Norwich which my teacher would frown
at because he was an agnostic.

Another high school teacher said with the authority
of God, as did they all, that if we were “B” students
in high school, we would be “C” students in college.
Impressionable, I was living evidence of prophesy
fulfilled until I woke up and proved that teacher
100 percent wrong.

Moral: take the high school gods’ prophecies with a
grain of sult, er salt.

There is no explanation;
it remains a mind-boggling,
inexplicable, conundrum
sending bright people off
into disbelief. At the
heart of anguish there is
no rational explanation —
just a dead, bled-out
God quickening my
heart.

Mosquitoes join us
whether invited or not
as we camp stream side.

When the wind dies down,
they join our little soiree,
thinking it’s okay,

but reality
dictates that they have to go.
They crashed the party.

Tweet One: Time is running out.
Everyone knows it.
Many people have told me so.
The crowds have been enormous —
largest ever, so much bigger than
before — ever, seriously.
No one has ever drawn such big
crowds.

Tweet Two: It’s documented. There are photos —
photos showing the enormous
response to what is happening.
Nothing like this has ever happened
before and I am so glad to be the
one who made it all the great success
that it is.

Tweet Three: Even the fake news
is honestly reporting it.
I want to thank my cabinet, the House and
Senate, the Special Prosecutor
and especially CNN and MSNBC, most notably
Rachel Maddow, Lawrence O’Donnell
and Joy Reid for cracker jack reporting —
outstanding, such very nice people,
really, honestly, believe me, I’m telling
the truth.

Tweet Four: I’m so glad that this will all be
over soon and all those great, peaceful
demonstrators can go home for a while
before picking up a new and equally
worthy cause
and I’m not the only one.

Tweet Five: All my children
have hated this and
after my prison sentence, which is
truly warranted, I will go to a Roman
Catholic seminary become celibate (as
vociferously demanded by my wonderful
wife)

Tweet Six: and devote the remainder
of my days to non-violent resistance
and promotion of peace, justice,
Jesus’ message of inclusivity
and to helping save the planet
from global warming.

Tweet Seven: I have it from
very reliable sources that
Vladimir Putin has become
a Russian Orthodox priest.
Good luck, Vladie!

Tweet Eight: I love you, Barack.

Tweet Nine: I’m giving all my money
to the Southern Poverty Law Center.

Tweet Ten: Lastly, I’m
giving up Tweeting for Lent
as part of the plea bargaining.

It seems so sad,
Just catching on to nature,
Hiking, backpacking, kayaking,
From a ten-year-old in the forest preserves
To seventy-two, only sixty-two years
And wanting so many more
For everyone,
But the permafrost is melting,
The polar caps are melting,
The sea is rising,
The desert is drying
Out completely.
I’m so sad
And in my old age
And all the pains and aches
I still have a sense of survival
So I’ll hunker down by the fresh water
Great Lakes
And experience short-term
Emotional, physical and spiritual
Revival.

There once was a carnival hustler named Trump
who was always on the political stump.
He colluded with Putin —
a presidential election to ruin.
He vacated the White House “dump” to be a Big House chump.

There was an Irishman from Killarney;
who bragged about all his blarney,
He saw a thousand pound pig
dance the Irish jig.
I just think he is full of malarkey.

There once was a man from Sweden
who said he visited the Garden of Eden
and saw Eve dance
without any pants.
making the man a voyeuristic, antediluvian Scandinavian.

There was a Netherlands’ Dutchman
who visited Holland, Michigan.
He looked up and down
for anyone from that town
with a progressive view on politics or religion.