by Rick Young | Jan 18, 2021 | Poem
The end game dream of every grifter
is to lay on a Florida beach with his snifter.
To rescue a rich widow from the ever present waves
could be a drifter’s dream amongst the beneficial saves.
Of course there’s easy access to some great Cuban cigars.
It’s simple to make friends with suckers in the sandside bars.
Just check for designer shirts and jewelry made of gold.
It’s easy to get bold after a few drinks with the old.
Bent people with big savings are like fish in hotel pools.
They’ve spent their lives accumulating, never played for fools.
A con man with the expertise of a Las Vegas vet
can pull a scam then take a lam and not even get wet.
You’ve got two coasts, a grifter boasts, filled with retirees.
You can smell the money wafting in the warm sea breeze.
To grifters, rich old people are retirement insurance.
They have no strength of mind. It’s easy to break down endurance.
And, once you’ve done the east coast, from Daytona to Key West.
It’s Naples up to Pensacola, after a brief rest.
When a con accumulates enough Sunshine State glitter,
he’ll just fly west, proud of his quest, leaving the old folks bitter.
by Rick Young | Jan 17, 2021 | Poem
The Bills and the Browns.
The world is upside down.
Phil Spector’s wall of sound
lies broken on the ground.
MLK Day tomorrow
continues month of sorrow.
Challenged transfer of power
creeps toward its final hour.
After the bible oath is sworn,
we will be bent, but won’t be torn.
The don will disappear awhile
to prep for his impeachment trial.
But goons he’s unleashed on the streets
will still be on the trail of meats.
They are the gruesome underbelly
stoked by lies and red FOX telly.
But, without his mass persuasion,
they can’t rise to an occasion.
They’re just rebel flag gun toters,
whether dressed in boots or boaters.
Dust-ups may be their solution,
but that won’t start revolution.
Guilt confessions on e-mail
might send their dumb ass to jail.
Next is weed out all complicit.
In-house moles to be specific.
Defined disgrace and lifetime ban
perhaps can stop the fake news clan.
With climate change and plague to face,
it’s time to exit hatred’s place.
Let’s look ahead to workers’ needs.
And do away with wampum beads.
by Rick Young | Jan 16, 2021 | Poem
The stolen election
was just a projection
to ward off rejection
without introspection.
The failed insurrection
revealed our protection
is prone to infection
and must seek correction.
Post-riot detection
contends a confection
of auto suggestion
provoked their erection.
And further reflection
assumes that this section
will evade detection
by some new direction.
Our homeland’s complexion
may need an injection
of some new correction
enhancing connection.
by Rick Young | Jan 14, 2021 | Poem
We’ve found Illuminati, Scotty,
their symbols everywhere.
Triangles, black eyes, all things spotty.
Devils in their hair.
Lady Gaga ate some babies.
Madge is royalty.
J-Z’s bite can give you rabies,
needs your loyalty.
Secret hand signs
made by everyone in Hollywood.
Fascist bloodlines.
Out to destroy every thing that’s good.
Oh, Good Q, it’s up to you
to exorcize this satan.
And, when you get rid of him,
new problems will be waitin’.
Conspiracy feeds on itself,
a snake eating its tail.
There’s always new ones on the shelf,
for Good Q to assail.
So, fuck Tom Hanks. We owe him thanks
for his pedophile clues.
You won’t believe whats up the sleeve
of commie rotten jews.
They have you all in slavery,
but Q will set you free.
We praise him for his bravery
and get up off our knees.
No Rothschild line, no poison wine
will keep us from our hour.
And all things will be good and fine
when Good Q comes to power.
by Rick Young | Jan 12, 2021 | Poem
Another shot at insurrection,
under, this time, real direction.
The last was nothing but rehearsal.
This time the aim is reversal.
A lot more guns and ammunition
will bring a death toll to fruition.
Will there be armies crossing cannons?
Will there be robot droid Steve Bannons?
Who’ll win the Best Costumed Right Winger?
Can Rudy get in one last zinger?
We already know the score.
Oh for one in civil war.
This one will be more far-reaching,
maybe even nation-breaching.
Once the line is in the sand,
Trump’s destroyed the country’s brand.
All that’s left is fall from grace.
And auto trophy: 2nd PLACE.
