by Rick Young | Dec 2, 2017 | Poem
A snake charmer,
whose room looks like a pharmaceutical junkyard,
is memorizing religion on an atrophied wireless.
"Keep pledging that speck of hatred to tomorrow,"
he repeats, while stabbing himself with a number
three pencil. Last night, it seems, he tied his friends
together by the tail and painted lurid designs
upon his leatherette sofa with India ink.
He takes this as an intense subliminal desire
to return to his homeland, but is afraid
the people of Ohio will snicker at his tattoo
unless he learns more about god.
by Rick Young | Dec 2, 2017 | Poem
There’s no refuge any more
unless your home’s a tower.
The elite just won the war.
Rich folks have all the power.
Corporate tax gifts passed the floor.
Medicare may be no more.
Billionaires who own estates
dance now behind golden gates.
They’ll drill in the arctic, too;
soon be eating caribou.
Middle class will take the hit.
Merry Christmas. Eat some shit.
Deficit receives a load
youth will pay for down the road.
Say goodbye to wildlife parks.
Load endangered onto arks.
Country can’t be great again
when the wealthy always win.
Ruling classes don’t play fair.
Word out to the poor: Beware.
by Rick Young | Dec 1, 2017 | Poem
Comes again the time of plastic wreaths upon the door,
golden popcorn bubbles oozing caramel on the floor.
Cousin Ed, supposed dead, has stopped by for some cheer.
Here’s a shop where if you stop the people call you ‘dear.’
There they’ve hung a bearded man outside the bullet store.
In the hallway, mottled elves complain their feet are sore.
On the sidewalk, Santa Claws just hit you with his bell.
Everyone is merry: "Watch your feet there!" "Go to hell !"
Oh, it makes you want to heave on someone’s blinking tree,
boil a skunk for dinner, cast your cash into the sea.
Wait! Is that a wise man underneath the distant star?
No, it’s just some guy who wants to sell you a used car.
by Rick Young | Dec 1, 2017 | Poem
Sancho, Pancho, Gabby, Tonto:
sidekicks, summoned, arrived pronto.
Some were old and some were flabby.
Some were both: we mentioned Gabby.
Some had wheels, most rode a horse.
Not all were western types, of course.
Matt Dillon had the limping Chester,
Addams Family, Uncle Fester.
Comics had sidekicks as well.
Johnny joked, Ed laughed like hell.
Letterman had Paul with glasses.
Clouseau’s Kato kicked some asses.
Fred Flintstone had neighbor Barney.
Jackie Gleason had Art Carney.
Maverick had his brother Bart.
Batman’s Robin dressed pop art.
Moe the Stooge had fall guy Curly.
Laverne loved her best pal Shirley.
Lewis joked while Martin sang.
Jesse James had his whole gang.
George had Gracie, Desi, Lu.
Shaggy needed Scooby Doo.
Mary hung next door with Rhoda.
Luke had Jedi Master Yoda.
Clarabell was Howdy’s jester.
Jack Benny bounced jokes off Rochester.
Tinker Bell was Peter’s fairy.
George Costanza bothered Jerry.
Rocky loved Bullwinkle’s schtick.
Tarzan/ Cheeta: that was sick.
Entertainment breeds sidekicks.
Let’s not talk of politics.
