You’re WRONG!

If you’re Black, you’re a Thug.

If you’re White, you’re a Racist.

If you’re Muslim, you’re a Jihadist.

If you’re Christian, you’re the Devil.

If you’re Gay, you’re a Heretic.

If you’re Straight, you’re a Bigot.

If you’re a Woman, you’re a Cunt.

If you’re a Man, you’re an Asshole.

If you’re an Adult, you’re an Idiot.

If you’re a Teenager, you’re a Brat.

If you’re an American, you’re a Bully.

If you’re an Immigrant, you’re a Parasite.

There is just NO winning this game…

Oh, except when people tolerate each other, regardless of their prejudices. Then, even though we can’t all agree, we can have a much better world for everyone.

Cue the Avenue Q:


Ode to My Dark Lord

You’re not a junkie, you’re a Prince
And, someday soon, you’ll be a King.
The telling trait of a monarch:
They’re in control of everything.

So, let your monkey go unfed –
Tell your desires “quiet down” –
Square up your shoulders and your jaw;
A level head must bear the crown

This ode I write to my Dark Lord
Who will not back out of a fight
He might diffuse it, like a bomb,
Like changing angles of a light.

You’ll see his kindness, not remorse.
He knows life, often, isn’t fair.
He follows whims, does as he please,
But he’s hardly without a care.

I love him too much to think straight
But, to be fair, he twists his words.
We seem to be a mismatched pair
When, really, we’re both his’try nerds.

He’s simple, yet oh-so refined.
A lit cigar hangs from his mouth.
We rode together, for a ways –
He travels East, while I go South.

But if you’ll tell me where you’ll be
The next five years, or maybe more,
Once I’ve found my Fountain of Youth
I’ll want to show up at your door.

If I find your arms are not open,
Forget every word I’ve just spoken.


Daily Poetry

Forbidden is the oldest drug
Intoxicating all who taste
Just don’t get caught; instead, get smug
Anything else is just a waste

I know I shouldn’t even look
but love to catch you when you stare
Your eyes the bait, your voice the hook
Don’t tempt me ’til I just don’t care

This fantasy will never be
and yet, it changes day to day
Temptation, spare us; hear my plea
Before his hands go where eyes stray

Daily Poetry 1/29/14