by Rick Young | Nov 25, 2021 | Poem
Musk and Bezos broke the bread.
Most everyone else was dead.
Shatner, now a-hundred-ten,
had to be revived again.
Turkey served in Pez dispensers
set off the food warning sensors.
Stuffing made of vegan dirt
spilled all over Bill Gates’ shirt.
Two guys ate more than all others.
Naturally, it was Koch brothers.
Rupert Murdoch’s life support
was the day’s one hint at sport.
Zuckerberg, perhaps the worst,
ate food from his metaverse.
Warren Buffett had a ball
locking Waltons in the hall.
Michael Bloomberg showed up late,
on the mini-rocket freight.
It’s a shame that billionaires
cast aside their worldly cares
for the luxury of space,
distant from the human race.
by Rick Young | Nov 25, 2021 | Poem
Thank you, God, for making our predecessors
so easy to eliminate. We invited them to lunch,
and traded them our beads for their great land.
We relocated, restricted and tortured them.
We gave them smallpox-infected blankets.
We killed their buffalo and dishonored sacred
grounds. We bred in them fear and alcoholism.
Carved them out of wood for folks’ amusement.
Slaughtered three hundred Lakotas at Wounded Knee.
Later, we made fun of them on television as well as
in movies and sports; called them ‘Redskins,’
Indians, Wahoos and Chiefs. See also Tonto.
And now their primeval eden is a hotbox of decay.
We turned their vibrant culture into mere survival.
The western world has been tamed by desecration.
And, to tell the truth, the lunch was not all that good.
