as october waned
the burning bush sang solo.
trees sang harmony.

i didn’t know this
but i’m giving it a try.
i will let you know:

red pepper powder —
frees feeders from pesky squirrels —
when sprinkled on seed.

The climate has been changing —
yes, of course, that one, the big one,

but there is another climate change —
the climate of tolerance, acceptance,

inclusivity, equality, justice and
compassion is changing rapidly in

our country to intolerance, rejection,
exclusivity, inequality, injustice and

hate. Tolerate isn’t all that great
but it is still a lot better than hate.

Jewish people, Muslim people, Black
people, Brown people now are all con-

sidered despised mud people by white
supremacists warns a Latina journal-

ist. Well, guess what, white suprem-
acists, we are all mud people — from

dust we came and to dust we shall
return.

Alone, not solitary but lonely, coping
with being separate from all others,
creation, from life itself — shout it out,
“I am great,  great,  the  greatest.  I am
the best. No mistakes. I am a genius. I
went to the best schools. I am the strong-
est. I am so stable. On the other hand, you
are crooked, low energy,  low IQ, a liar, a
thief, little, tiny, teensy-weensy while I am
big, big, big, the biggest, most wonderful
human who ever existed, exists or will ever
exist.” The record runs down, the batteries
are depleted, the big bag of wind collapses
on the bedroom floor and after but a very
few hours sleep, once again come the tweets.
Alone in his bedroom with only the TV and
his phone. “It’s the weekend, goody-goody,
gum drops. Can I go out to play, mommy,
daddy? I want to go out and play! I’m going
out to play. I’m going to play golf. Who
can I pay to play golf with me? Mommy,
daddy, it’s snowing. May I ride Rosebud?
Mommy, daddy! Where is Rosebud? I want
my Rosebud!!!” “Shake the little snow-globe,
honey.  There’s Rosebud, your Rosebud. No-
body can ever take it away from you.”  Thank
you, mommy and dearest daddy.”

The day dawned deepest gray
with a plethora of clouds in the sky
and the feeling of winter in the bones.
It was a day most stay in warm homes.
Even the birds nest, refusing to fly.
Finally, thankfully, the sun came out to play.

And so, people began to emerge
anticipating fun jogging and cycling.
Birds flew in an out of the trees.
And then arose a strong breeze.
It wasn’t long until along came lightning.
All headed to home and nests humming a dirge.

The (p)-resident is a patient, master gardener —
plants poison seeds, fertilizes and
pours the water.
Venomous plants spring, grow
sprout wicked thorns.
Who knew with such patience he would sow?
Who knew he’s a master gardener
who painstakingly plants poison seeds,
fertilizes and
pours the water?
His attention span is short;
he doesn’t read, write or do math;
he does play rounds of golf
at his resorts very fast.
Who knew he plowed a path
for poison plants?
We knew. That’s who.
We’ve been pointing to the poison plants
warning of the fruit.
The Republicans know it, too
but have chosen to remain mute.
But the fruit of that gardening
has now come to fruition.
If we don’t confiscate those gardening tools,
and so stop the blooming of violence, death and terrorism,
then truly we are a nation of fools
who deserves a (p)-resident of hate —
master gardener of poison plants —
sealing our fascist fate. .

Of bodily necessity, they defecate and urinate
along the thousands of miles.
With what do they wipe after they eliminate?
How do they wash their hands?
How do they keep their babies clean?
They have no toilets;
do they bury their feces in sand?
They have no showers
with cleansing, hot steam.
They endure basic humiliation.
Of soap they can only dream.
But their dream is greater than that.
They march thousands of miles to escape
and put behind them violence, threats,
horrors, death and rape.
But they also march for fulfillment of their dreams.
They still hope beyond hope,
of reaching the border without greater loss.
Will they be met by Caesar’s soldiers as Caesar bombastically boasts?
Will the Statue of Liberty act as a benevolent host?
Or will it be Jesus’ open, welcoming, blood drenched arms
attached on a border fence, today’s cross?

Liar, liar, Republican pants
on fire. Seventy times they

tried to kill Obamacare and
now, because the number one

issue is health care, they
are lying through their false

teeth, saying they (like the
proverbial fox) will protect

pre-existing conditions and
one of the candidates running

for US Senator from Arizona,
as a screaming metaphor for

all of them, has the ovaries
to falsely vow to protect all

pre-existing conditions while
on record in Congress as having

shouted on the floor of that
august body, “Let’s get this

f—ing (using the word) thing
done,” meaning “Kill Obamacare.”

Liar, liar, Republican pants
on fire. Thank you, John McCain,

late senator from Arizona,
for one of your last and

perhaps most important votes
ever — the one Republican

who saved Obamacare —
officially the Affordable

Care Act, the most important
issue for this incredibly

important mid-term election
to help save not just the

Affordable Care Act but
democracy itself.

They got the kids raised —
A torn lip scar, a torn chin scar,
A few broken ribs —
Accident with the car.
Whew!
Now grandkids live very far
Away
But are emotionally as
Close as any hour of any day.
“Hi, Honey. What did you just say!”

Street savvy traveller in Roseland, his
boyhood, South side town. Walking
home along the tracks from kindergarten

through second grade at one school,
walking to the bus stop from another
school, catching a ride from 107th and

Halsted to 111th and Halsted, trans-
ferring buses from 111th and Halsted
to 111th and Michigan Ave. at age

eight, running from home to Fernwood
Park to play — street savvy. A move to
the suburbs at age nine, fifth grade,

achievement tests — second grade math,
third grade reading — not very book
savvy. Don’t put the kid back to fourth

grade for a do-over his dad pleaded.
I’ll work with him. I’ll work with him,
too, said the teacher. On to book savvy

and deep, deep, deep appreciation at
every graduation — high school, bachelor’s,
master’s and doctorate. He, now a trail

savvy senior, heads out the door for a
jog through the woods, grateful for it
all, especially a savvy teacher and a savvy
dad.