by Rick Young | Jan 20, 2021 | Poem
He’s still got his mitts on the nuclear codes until noon.
He’s up in the air like the devil may care, the buffoon.
If he sends the command to a nuclear sub,
D.C. just disappears in the bay, glub, glub, glub.
In this next two hours, he could have his say,
and possibly blow all the blue states away.
He said he’ll be back, perhaps in a new form.
His last campaign could well be called “U.S. Storm.”
There won’t be a sigh of relief until he
is disarmed and deposited in history.
As long as he still has his hands on the button,
we’re all meat to him, fried chicken and mutton.
by Rick Young | Jan 19, 2021 | Poem
Four hundred thousand Covid dead.
And DT’s packing up instead.
He doesn’t give a fuck for suckers out of luck,
as long as he winds up, somehow, ahead.
Tomorrow he will fly his family south
to be his party’s claws, if not its mouth;
where he can yell, “You’re fired!” to elderly retired
in the sunny land where marks are routh.
He still won’t admit ‘Sleepy’ took the wheel.
In his trapped mind, election was a steal.
He is the rightful ruler, and nothing could be crueler
than claiming his landslide was not for real.
He’s got four years to shape himself anew,
to get back at those reds who turned him blue.
With Georgia on his mind, his rage will make him blind.
He’ll fume and gloom in failed dictator stew.
He’ll gather at his side remaining goons,
the kinds of folk who’d steal the White House spoons.
May all his future days be festooned with sting rays.
And may he not be seen for many moons.
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.
