Bad Heart Song

by Rick Young | Mar 9, 2018 | Posthumous Additions, Song

They cracked my ribs, took out my heart,
probably the hardest part.
Took some veins out of my calf.
That tickled and made me laugh.
While I was laying on my back,
they used my heart like a hacky sack.
In my chest, they tapped my lungs,
playing them like bongo drums.
Blood was flowing like a river.
Someone yelled, “Take out his liver!”
Good thing I was under gas,
would have kicked some doctor ass.
Then they put the heart back in,
passed around a fifth of gin,
tied my ribs and sewed my chest.
They had done their very best.
Last thing I heard was their hollers,
“That’ll be two million dollars!”

Vladie the Pooh

by Rick Young | Mar 28, 2017 | Posthumous Additions, Song

Pooh, pooh, Putin.
He’s got our poor POTUS scootin’
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
Our election he’s rebootin’.

Republicans are now his dupes.
He’s got ’em jumping through his hoops.
The money that’s been changin’ hands
could fund twelve heavy metal bands.

Pooh, pooh, Putin.
His horn our president is tootin’.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
Our treasury he’s surely lootin’.

We’ve promised him a sanctions lift.
Consider it an orange gift.
He’ll open up new lines for oils.
And we will divvy up the spoils.

Pooh, pooh, Putin.
Our groper prez his horn is tootin’.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
He says that sharin’ sure beats shootin’.

The future’s world wide autocrats.
On this doomed ship we are the rats.
Republicans are gross and stinkin’.
Stop them now before the sinkin’.

Pooh, pooh, Putin.
For his downfall we are rootin’.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
We’re allergic and he’s gluten.