From Gaetz to Gohmert to Graham,
McCarthy to McConnell,
Nunez to Numb-nuts himself —
Put them all in quarantine.
At least it’s not a
border cage so very obscene.

The wave crashed against the shore;
the fallen tree limbs rotted on the soggy ground;
the wind beat against pine branches;
the sleet gathered and thrashed the earth;
on the side of a sandhill, a blue-bulbed crocus persisted.

Well, Dippity Do, 
     you do 
          what you 
know you need to do 
     in order to get through 
          and confirm your 
allegiance 
     to the philosophy 
          of enlightened
self-interest, 
     in spite of 
          the fact that we 
should all do things
     for altruistic, 
          at least,
and, preferably, 
     really compassionate
          reasons. 
That having been said,
     you, Dippity Do, in order 
          for you 
to do 
     to get through, 
          you 
have to come clean.
     Yes, when the 
          recent widow 
reached out,
     you got offended and mean, 
          when she wrote 
that in a photo of 
     you and your new 
          Chocolate Lab
you looked “precious.”
     It was the “precious” 
          thing, which you bristled to, 
and, so, you, 
     after one too many glasses 
          of wine, shot off 
a really snitty e-mail whine,
     which has resulted 
          in her being hurt 
beyond belief and
     you being a complete 
          jerk. So, what to do
in order for 
     you to get through?
          Make amends, ask 
for forgiveness, 
     change your behavior 
          and learn how to spell
“expiation.”
     Marianne Williamson
          agrees. 

The sea continued
To give the sand shore what for.
Folks asked, “How much more?”

King Nebuchadnezzar
groveled in the grass
as Daniel declared
and as the sun rose
the beastly king stared
and then he rose
and stood on two feet
as a humbled human
before the grandeur
of nature’s daily feat.
A sunrise and a sunset
will do that. She who
has eyes to see shall see
the rising majesty
and stand on her own two feet
humbly the sun to greet.

*idea from a meditation
by Frederick Buechner

Everything is a simile;
everything a metaphor;
what’s reality?
embrace the mystery;
give the world a good goosing
and a little “What For.”

How strange it is to see
the irony of billions spent to save
a representative democracy.

A commentator said, “See,
in-order-to save
our representative democracy

we need this one-person-plutocracy,
in this immediacy, to save
our representative democracy.

Irony upon irony, sadly.

He supported Shirley Chisholm
Way back in the day;
Way way back in the day;
And he can’t understand
How we’ve gone astray. 

Five women initially in the field
To now zero 
To now zero, 
Can that be real?
We need a female hero

Or maybe one just competent
And already we’ve had many
Who can count the cost of a penny
And still provide care so urgent
To the ever so very needy. 

Compassion, passion — a real leader.
In any event, we really need her. 

After mild winter,
March winds blew around cold rain
slapping back Snowbirds.

The poets presage,
they say. Poets
lament and rage,
they say.
If that is true and
we have reached
that age,
then, hope-
fully, afterward, it
will be said that
some persons
were very sage
and saved
us from what once
we saw as an
inevitable day
and page
in history — one

against

which

the

poets

raged.