If arrested and convicted for
murder of another person,
the perpetrator could go to
prison for life or die of an
injection or in the electric
chair, but because of the
invocation of sacred violence,
democratically elected heads
of state are blessed and praised
for slaughtering millions of
humans in the name of God
or country or freedom or all
of the above. Leaders of total-
itarian regimes, demagogues
and despots, while using the
same justifications and, perhaps,
even enjoying the temporary
approval of their citizens are
found out and ultimately cast out
for crimes against humanity,
but the democratically elected
heads of state simply retire with
a comfortable pension, a library
to their glory and for historical
purposes and time on their
hands for avocations or charitable
foundations or just plain time
on their hands. With that time
do they ever think of the millions,
do they still give thanks that
God is on their side like they
said when they said “God bless
us” at the end of every speech
further justifying the invasions
whatever the real reasons may
be, do they ever hear Jesus
say, “Well done, thou good and
faithful servant” or might
they, just might they,
offer up a Kyrie?

I’m going bananas over Bonobos.
We share 98% DNA, but who would know?
They don’t act like us at all,
apparently heeding a primate’s higher call.
They have a society dominated by females
who show life-long motherly love for all.
There is no violence; no evidence of homicide
and in freewheeling, frequent sex they do abide.
They out hippie hippies on “Make Love Not War,”
and they feel no need to settle any score.
That’s why I’m going bananas over Bonobos.*

*Bonobos are now an endangered species facing extinction
because of human exploitation and violence:
http://www.bonobo.org/bonobos/what-is-a-bonobo/
and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bonobo#Similarity_to_humans.

He stopped his slow jog along
the trail to watch the fly-fisher

cast beautifully back and forth,
back and forth and then the final

gracious thrust only to have the
fly land softly on the surface of

the water. The trail, the pond,
the fisher, the cast, the landing.

If I were the fish, I would have
said this is all so beautiful,

I just have to bite.

In pursuit of perfection
he sprays the purple
dead nettles, not knowing
their name, not realiz-
ing they feed bees in
early spring, make
tea with honey and
medicine. Then he sees
bees flee the poison
and he stops spraying
because he knows that
he is a destroyer.

The white man is afraid
he is fading away.
He looked in the mirror today
and thought about the mistakes he made.

He thought he should be a darker shade
in order to be seen more clearly,
so he sat in the sun sincerely
and now with skin cancer he’s being repaid.

First basal cell, then carcinoma squamous
finally, all out melanoma.
He’s quite a pathetic fella.
He says, “There’s a conspiracy upon us.

Foreign physicians are excising who we are
until there is nothing left of our white race.
There’s hardly anything left of my face.
Some might think my thoughts bizarre,

but just you wait till there is no white race
left for others to hate.
Oh, no, I think it is too late.
Oblivion is our fate.
There goes my face!”

“It’s okay, darling,” his white wife said
as he jumped out of the chair.
“I think you should go to bed.
You’ve given me quite a scare.”

So, he stopped by the bathroom
to have a quick look just in case.
“Oh, no,” he screamed,
“I now have a black, Hispanic, Asian,
First People’s face.”

It looks like restorative justice
for the white race.
He had it coming, because
we all came out of Africa, in the first place.

The last line of Alice’s sonnet Sonnet
Is, “I still have some of the pills.”
It was George speaking after
Gracie died. Ted was sick but
He hadn’t died. Anticipatory
Grief? We dread what will come
But how did she know what
Would come – after? All those
Pills we continue to hold in our
Hand but won’t (can’t) do any
Good anymore. How long do
We hold them?

At least, twenty-five died
in New York City before 12;
ditto, twenty-five died
in Chicago before 12;
twenty-five died in
Denver before 12;
twenty-five died in
Phoenix before 12;
twenty-five died in
Los Angeles before 12.
That’s 150 who died before
12 in the time zones
combined and none, zero,
nada, nyet died from a
terrorist attack and none
of those deaths made it to
ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN,
FOX and MSNBC because
they weren’t about terror-
ism. But the message is
be afraid, be scared, be
alarmed because, that is
what those who hit with
stupid bombs hither,
thither, and yon want
everyone in the Western
world to get and apparent-
ly they are winning the
stupid war on us with
all our cumbersome,
heavy-duty, trillion-dollar
armaments and their
penny-ante, cheap shit
devises, which are built
for one thing and one
thing only — blowback.

As the cliché goes
and everybody knows
we dislike someone because of
what we see
in him or her in me.
The President serves that purpose
to a T, tittle de (not Tweedledee),
I would think, for most everybody.
Though, the Donald may be
both Tweedledum and Tweedledee.
Unfortunately, I do see both in me.

The Franciscan wrote,
“Francis knew there is enough for everyone’s need,
but not for everyone’s greed.”*
And that’s one reason
why I’d rather see
Jesus in me.
Even Francis would fit to a T,
too, tittle de (not Tweedledee).

*from a meditation by Richard Rohr

My wife tossed a verbal salvo
wondering if I would retreat in defeat.
While not fast on my feet,
after some time on my seat,
I decided not far to retreat
because I can think of things
about which to crow.
I told her so
and decided to rejoinder
for happy hour
on the patio.

She painted flowers in watercolors.
She said, “Listen to this. I have
looked these up and I might include
this information in the paintings.

Ivory Rose is charm, Peach Rose is
modesty, Pink Rose is grace, Hydrangea –
heartfelt emotion, Myrtle – love and
joy, Phlox – harmony and good partner-

ship,” He roused himself from his
stupor and exclaimed, “Get the Phlox
out! Oh, how I have wanted to yell
that from the pulpit.” Then he laughed

at his own lame humor. She wasn’t im-
pressed, “So much for harmony and good
partnership. Clematis – mental art,
beauty.” “Clematis!” he exclaimed. “Is

that a combination of climax and chlamydia.”
“What is that?” she asked. “Never mind.”
“Finally, periwinkle – everlasting love
and purity.” Now he sits and opens

sympathy e-cards with sad organ music
and bouquets of flowers and he recites
the meaning of as many as he can
remember, which isn’t many.

There are no jokes.