laying it on with a trowel . . .

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/24/us/24bar.html?ref=adam_liptak

Lawyers buying artwork of themselves inside the Court

Are ripe for escalating such fine vanity to sport.

A couple thousand bucks and ev'ry hometown Clarence Darrow

Is depicted standing tall and straight as any arrow,

Defending truth and innocence before the bar of Justice

With the noble bearing of a Caesar or Augustus. 

Warts and wrinkles disappear from off their modest faces

As they jaw away in style while snapping on their braces.

Such flattery, if laid on thick, must have good money in it.

As grand old P.T. Barnum said:  "There's one born ev'ry minute!"

 

My Last Wish

When I was young and full of butter

I could make a girl's heart flutter.

My teeth were white, my breath was fresh;

My thoughts and actions still could mesh.

My feet were firm, my belt was taut;

My goals were mostly all store-bought.

I ate with relish ev'ry meal.

My morals were of stainless steel.

But now that rust is setting in

And I am full of margarine –

I am old & fat, not wiser –

More leftover than appetizer –

Since mainsprings won't be wound again,

A single thought comes now & then;

There's one thing more before I pass . . .

I'd like to kick bin Laden's ass.

An Honest Politician

An honest politician is a blot upon the state.

A wishy-washy fellow, as slippery as a skate.

They won't take your money to ignore an oversight

That makes some public building start collapsing overnight.

They will not put your uncle in a cushy job – oh no;

They'd rather see you nephews in a breadline moving slow.

They cannot be persuaded to just turn the other cheek

When you want to build a place that could pollute a creek.

They listen to an inner voice, like any schizophrenic.

You can't give 'em jewelry cuz they ain't photogenic.

Trampling the people, they will only serve the law.

They're about as handy as a clock made out of straw.

The Longest Battle

The prudent man knows when his wife is busy with crochet

Trouble has an invite and there'll soon be hell to pay.

Ev'ry time she hooks the loop and pulls it in a knot

It's your head she's thinkin' on – you're really in a spot!

 If perchance the bacon comes out flabby and quite pale;

The eggs are pretty runny and the toast turns out like shale –

Wisdom dictates swift retreat to some secluded spot

Where you won't be drawn & quartered, or perhaps gut-shot!

When she's talking on the phone and tells you not to stay,

Five'll get you twenty that her mother's on her way.

It may be that late at night you'll hear her scrubbing floors;

Be prepared for typhoons to come blasting at your shores.

It doesn't matter that you've haven't done a blessed thing;

You are in the dog house just as sure as Crosby's Bing.

Any explanation would be too much to expect.

You posses some newly found-out devilish defect.

Do not think a rose bouquet or box of candy treats

Will get you off the hook, my friend – you'd better wear some cleats.

For you'll be running ragged till the cows come home for sure;

She wants to sit and "talk" with you amidst the flying fur.

Now's the time to put a stop to all this folderol.

Now's the time for you to calmly stand up straight and tall.

Now's the time to look right in her angry, blazing eyes.

Now's the time to tell her that you do apologize.

An Organic Golf Course

Out on Martha's Vineyard there's a golf course, so they say,

Where weeds and thistles, crabgrass, are allowed a holiday.

No fungicides or pesticides are used upon the greens.

No gardeners are prowling with Round Up inside their jeans.

The course has gone organic and they vacuum up the dew

Instead of spraying for a fungal infestation – whew!

I wonder, do they cut the grass with some old-fashioned scythe?

Do they coddle grubs or find a way to make them writhe?

The President is playing there, and what I wanna know

Is will they still need fertilizer once he starts his show.

Please Verify Your Account

I'm sending lots of emails, like a maven I can click

On buttons or on icons – I believe I'm pretty slick.

I'm surfing and I've googled ev'rything from this to that;

I follow links tenaciously – I'm no tame pussy cat.

But in the midst of commenting or ordering online

I'm stopped dead in the water by a screen that's so malign.

To prove I'm not a spammer I must copy down a set

Of letters that were carried by a camel from Tibet –

At least that's how they look to me, all scrambled and unclear;

Before my bleary eyes they never seem to much cohere. 

Is that a "P" or could it be a sorta, kinda, "8"?

And what's this little doo-dad?  (Please remember my heart rate!)

Upper case or lower case?  I really cannot tell.

And this here smudgy thingum can go straight on down to hell!

After twenty minutes I give up – I feel forsook.

The internet's a racket – think I'll go and read a book.

No matter what I'm reading I have no need to surmount

Anything that's asking me to verify my account.

Living in Afghanistan

Flight attendants run amok –

Nowadays, that's just my luck.

First the postal worker cracks.

Then the store clerk just attacks.

Snipers on the freeway bridge.

Salmonella in my fridge.

Poison in my Tylenol.

Faulty gas tanks on recall.

In the air, where they should dote,

Flight attendants cut my throat.

I could increase my life span

Living in Afghanistan!

To Be Continued

Seems like ev'ry other week will

Bring another movie sequel.

Hollywood does not endeavor

Plotlines, character, to sever.

If the product keeps on selling

New ideas will not be jelling.

What a sad, disgusting fate –

To watch the stars regurgitate!

Movies without one new wrinkle

Make me do a Rip Van Winkle. 

Good News

Ev'ry cloud of trouble has a lining that is shiny;

Even this recession has one (though it's mighty tiny.)

There is no inflation, so our pundits tell us brightly;

And blue collar jobs are up (though it's only slightly.)

This should be enough to brighten anybody's day;

It is like a rainbow (or an execution's stay.)

The Rules

Nobody likes religion anymore, it's plain to see;

Whether Pope or imam, we would rather not agree

With their rules and strictures that are terribly outdated,

With their narrow dogma that grows further constipated.

We do not want gatekeepers who prevent us with a nod

From dealing quite directly with a kind & loving God.

So we make our own rules up and suddenly we find

That God may be quite loving but that Life ain't very kind.

Batting in the Major Leagues

The Pentagon demands that WikiLeaks the right thing do

and return their information, stop their Internet debut.

It is giving aid and comfort to our enemies, they claim.

It is really messing with the Chief Executive's own game.

Appealing to the conscience of a website is akin

To batting in the Major Leagues with just a bowling pin.

The Billionaires Pledge

Oh, life certainly is fair

For the av'rage billionaire

As he or she gloms money by the bale.

They never seem to tire

Of putting it to hire

And letting others worry if they fail.

Now I read here in the papers

That to justify their capers

All these plutocrats are pledged to charity.

They will give half of their profit

To those that they have saw fit

Ought to benefit from some slight parity.

This is certainly heart-warming,

Even if it is barn-storming,

Though to billionaires it might seem just small snackses.

Still and all I can't help feeling,

Though this gesture is appealing,

It'd be better for them to pay all their taxes.

Bolivar

Chavez may have gone too far

In exhuming Bolivar;

If you have to raise the dead,

Popularity has fled.

Andrew Jackson, he assumes,

Put poor Simon in the tombs;

Ars'nic was our Andy's choice

In bestilling Simon's voice.

Once again Chavez will show

That all gringos are the foe.

Do the people of Caracas

Really want to shun and mock us?

Fools and dictators alike

think in terms of Hitler's Reich. 

Detroit

Drawn to ruins as their exploit,

The Arts have come upon Detroit.

This wasted city now plays host

To arrivistes from the Coast.

In their tattered jeans begirt

Like dogs they roll upon the dirt.

Producing works unintegrated

That do not sell, though bargain-rated.

If your art is not adroit

Then please consider old Detroit!

Reverie

a family of strangers in an unwelcoming land

or warm lights awaiting my return?

They maybe don't know themselves

Which way they must travel

To a peaceful co-existence.

If travel is something they'll do.

They may sit tight, like me.  Do nothing.

Like me.  Dream big; talk bigger.  Like me.

Like clowns falling back into a tub of

Whipped shaving soap,

We may all hear trombones laughing

And look at each other in dumb surprise

At how easy redemption comes.

The Bribe

I can say with candor surely

That I never, late or early,

Ever took a bribe clandestine –

Not so much as wooden clothes pin.

It's because I am upstanding

And my conscience is demanding --

But mostly I can shun,

Since I'm never offered one

 

Made in Italy

Italians make their vino and their clothing with great care.

Rather than a wrinkled suit, they'd go around quite bare!

Rather than a vintage that is muddy and unsound

They'll plow the very grapes right back into the solid ground!

"Made in Italy" is thus a label to make heads shake;

That is why the Chinese slap it on the stuff that they make.

Obama in Detroit July 30, 2010.

In Detroit the president was hailed by one and all

For keeping G.M., Chrysler, from a catastrophic fall.

He boasted in the union hall about his strategy

To keep blue collar workers in a strong economy.

The bailout that his government employed has done so well

That cars are rolling off the line just like a bat from hell.

Yes indeed, we can rejoice in what Obama's done . . .

Too bad nobody has the funds to buy a single one!

The Troll

I'm pretty slow to understand the world I'm living in.

I always thought a troll was just an ogre's rustic kin.

But now I find that trolls are on the Internet all day,

Sowing chaos, grief, and simply getting in the way.

They creep into a chat room, looking for a lulz or two;

Perhaps they'll use a sockpuppet to mask their point of view.

Once they've gotten everybody at each other's throat

They retire to a coffee shop where they can sit and gloat.

Anonymous and puerile, they have shown the world wide web

Is bringing us much closer to humanity's last ebb.

The New Cinderella

The Chinese Cinderella sits in ashes up to here;

Her cities are polluted and her rivers fizz like beer.

Particulates are so widespread that breathing has become

A habit much like smoking – it's both dangerous and dumb.

The rain's not only acid but explodes upon contact;

Cockroaches are leaving and the flies have their bags packed.

She has no fairy godmother on whom she can rely

As the smog is thickening and shutting out the sky.

The government is Marxist but the country's laissez faire

As the people stuff their money in their dirty underwear.

Her carbon footprint is so large and carries such a stench

You couldn't even fit it in the Mariana Trench!

We'll have to send for Noah to bring back the forty days

Of rain before Red China can remove its filthy glaze.