Some have said that he is a madman.
He certainly is mad as in angry – all
the time even when he smiles his
Cheshire grin. A two-year-old gets

angry, too, because he is told what
to do and it is something he doesn’t
want to do because it keeps him from
doing what he wants to do. The madman

is an old man; he can do pretty much
what he wants to do and if people
don’t like it, he gets mad and plots
and carries out vengeance on them. 

A toddler is part of the community we
call blood, and one day, as time goes
on, by grace, she will see herself as
part of a greater community – the

community of humanity and then the
community of creation, a sister to
Brother Moon And Sister Sun as Francis
sang. She will suffer and ache and,

hopefully, that suffering will trans-
late into compassion for that community
of humanity and creation which suffers
on and on. The madman? No, he is a

single, solitary figure staring into
a pond, and desperately and frantically
and furtively looking around for the
shadow which, perhaps, was there once.

She promptly returned my call
Saying, “I have spoken before to a Bob Dahl –
Germanic origin, Scandinavian.”
I said, “Five years ago, it could have been.
For a chocolate lab we were looking.”
And she had said, “Not much cooking.”
So, here we are again, and this time
She said, “I think we might be fine.
An old Scandinavian guy named Bob with a bad ticker
Is worried about his eight-year-old lab’s future,
If he should push up daisies,
So his mind is full of what’s and maybe’s.”
“So, let me get this right
You volunteer morning, noon and night,
While being a full-time Scandinavian studies professor?”
I wondered whatever possessed her.
For dogs, she had a deeply felt love.
She seemed like a homeless dog’s heavenly dove.
“Is the dog’s name known to you?”
“The dog’s name is Buddy.”
“Oh, my, my last dog was Buddy, too.”
She exclaimed, “Two Scandinavian Bob’s and two old Buddy’s, too.
Let me see what I can do.”
She said it might be serendipitous
Or perhaps synchronistic.
She had the vocabulary of a professor of linguistics.
Being a retired minister, I said providential perhaps.
She said she would call me back.
I’m waiting for the call, but it has only been a day.
I guess I’ll just sit in my chair and pray.

We all think we are getting better.
It’s not true.
When I was young I got into some
Fights, held my own,
Then decided to be a pacifist.
Jesus was calling.
In my head I was moving toward
Sainthood;
In my heart I was still holding
My own in the fights.
Now, I’m losing the battle.
The pugilist is just under
The surface. Why?
Mortality? My aging face
In the mirror? Sins of the past?
Politics? All of the above
And a lot more?
Jesus is still calling.

The (p)resident has got us all discombobulated,
keeping us emotionally incapacitated.
We feel compassion, grief and anger
for those victims of greed and nature,
but he sees that as a victory for competing,
while all the time, resources are depleting.
How will the citizens of Puerto Rico
cope with this federal assault on their survival?
Only a certain amount of time will tell
until, even the base, cries, “What the hell!
This callousness is beyond the pale.”
Really? Wouldn’t it be nice if that were true;
but don’t count on that base coming through.
For whatever reason, they are in a universe parallel
and still telling the majority of America to go to hell.

Nothing is getting done in the GOP Congress,
And while I’m pleased, I do digress.
Democrats all should be pleased
Trump’s ineptitude has caused legislation to freeze.
If the GOP’s draconian plans had succeeded,
healthcare for millions of Americans would have been defeated.
The divide between rich and poor would increase even greater,
but beware, it is yet to be decided if we survive a Trump
initiated nuclear incinerator.

They say the camera doesn’t lie;
I suppose that’s why I sit and cry.
My passport photo scares me half to death;
My wife looked and couldn’t catch a breath.
I’m opposed to ridiculous restrictions on Muslim travel,
But my travel itinerary is about to unravel.
Countries worldwide would that ugly mug see
And prohibit my entry by land, air or sea.

The poor, the maimed, the halt,
and the blind were dragged out
of the halls of power and author-
ity to the hollow echo in the chamber:
“If you want a hearing, you better
shut up!” They wailed their way
out of Ceasar’s palace into lockup
in the dungeons of despair and Jesus
was there with them from start to
finish in that Realm of God while
not being found anywhere near
Caesar’s palace of worldly power.

Regardless of the race baiting,
Regardless of the (p)resident’s 
	misogyny,  
Regardless of the GOP’s last 
	ditch effort to sabotage 
	the Affordable Care Act, 
Regardless of the going no-
	where tax reform,
Regardless of the Supreme
	Courts’ upcoming verdict
	on excluding Muslims, 
Half of the world may very
	well be obliterated (squashed
	like despised bugs and 
	exterminated like rats 
	in the sewers and alleys
	of Chicago),
In places like North and South
	Korea, Japan, Australia and 
	countless inhabited islands
With radioactivity (more deadly 
	than all the rattlers, coral
        snakes, Copperheads in the world) 
	snaking throughout the 
	rest of the world like a 
        dystopian novel squirming 
        into birth causing births to 
        stop by the grace of God because 
        the births would have been 
        something out of a horror movie.
Triggering the end of the world
	as decided by only two 
	crazy people, one of whom 
	is the elected (p)resident of 
	the United States.

From time immemorial, humans have had their
totems representing their beliefs — a flag,
a pitcher, a dish, a bowl, a table, a blood

sacrifice — they are as are words — symbols,
similes, metaphors, — something other than
the thing and even though they point to some-

thing other than what they are, they eventually
mean different things to different people because
what they point to is usually, at its best, a

mystery and, at its worst– exclusion, fear, hatred
and violence and so maybe it’s time to make some
symbolic gestures that are pretty clear and

lower the American flags to half-staff and half-
mast to acknowledge our grief and shame for the
exclusion, fear, hate and violence and get down on

both knees at sports’ events as Christians in
the Roman Colosseum and everywhere in the posture
of non-violence, utter humility and submission and

dependence on and affirmation of the mystery of
eternal, creative love and to ask for forgiveness
for using totems for exclusion, fear, hate, violence

and death.

The divider-in-chief only can function with an
                                     
                   “US vs. them”
binary
worldview.

He thrives on the 
                              CHAOS 
                                    and
                                       ANXIETY
he creates because it makes him feel

POWERFUL
and in
CONTROL.

                       He is an incredibly DANGEROUS person,

                               in the most POWERFUL position 
              in the world,

who could cause
MASS DESTRUCTION
without blinking an eye.

His Waterloo might be taking on the NATIONAL GODS
----- on the courts and fields.

Was Napoleon hiding little fingers?

                         Who knows?