Labor Unions

My father was a union man; he paid his dues on time.

He thought a scab who crossed the lines committed quite a crime.

But when at last he had to quit, retire in ill health,

His union pension fell far short of all its promised wealth.

My mom wrote letters, all ignored, and went to see the boss

Of the local chapter – he was smoother than cheap gloss.

He showed her graphs and invoices and other bric-a-brac

That proved, he said, the pension fund was in the red, not black.

(My mother noticed when she left he drove a Cadillac.)

Whenever I am asked to join a union I reply:

I'd rather burn it than to see it go to some wise guy.

Changing Times

Picky eaters used to be the bane of my existence;

As a parent I had kids who put up such resistance.

They wouldn't touch their vegetables, of fruit they were blasé;

They'd rather I took meat and drink and throw it all away.

They spilled their milk and gave the dog the chop upon their plate;

To this day I do not know how they gained any weight.

But now I'm told it is abuse to ev'ry son and daughter

Not to keep them on a diet of plain bread and water!

Standardized Tests

Through all my youthful days of zest

There lurked the dreaded bubble test.

In math and reading, science too,

I wore out pencils, two by two.

Was the circle full enough?

When did they explain this stuff?

Erasing anything at all

Left a dismal, smudgy pall.

I was surely traumatized

By these tests so standardized.

Now I hear that students get

Tested on the internet.

Lucky brats, they'll never chew

On a Venus Number Two.

zipcode please

When I go into a store to buy a thing or two

I do not want the clerk to be a stupid Nosy Sue.

"May I have your zip code?" they are asking me – my gosh!

Why must I put up with such presumptuous pure bosh?

"I will give you my zip code if you will give me yours"

Is what I tell these dunderheads in all those crummy stores.

Used to be that customers were treated like a prince –

Now they want your photo and a set of fingerprints!

The Boy Who Cried "Peace!"

My mama said quite long ago

That wishing doesn't make it so.

Don't write that check if funds are low.

So now a New Age Democrat

Says we're done with all combat,

Leaving the Iraqis flat.

Seems like quite a high caprice;

At his word the bombs will cease.

Instead of "wolf" we're crying "peace."