Making love to Watergate

Nixon and I and you
Sweating at a rapid rate.
Reprehensible
Utterly sensible
Lacking declensionable
Nouns
To possibly clarify the
Inter – relationships
Of we three making hate to Whitewatergate.
Clinton and you and I that is . . .

Have you . . .

ever thought
“A slice of you could
Grow a clone”
“Maybe two, . . .
Each with lives
They could grow
Alone?
you could sin
They atone.”
Have you ever thought . . .

Ah well, from here on in you’re on your own

Two Poems . . .

Time

. . . and applied ethics
measure out the daze
while I have amplified
both inner and outer gaze.

A Wish

There is nothing scary about a wish, except that sometimes
it comes true. It’s as though, by sheer will power, we’ve changed
the rules.

The future fraught with what we thought.

Getting our wish, we may have made someone else sad or angry or
count for naught.

Wishes are selfish and dangerous and a lot like hopes.
Hopes are what make us keep going.
Hopes are dreams brought into the
Light of day.
Hopes are games we need to play.
Hopes are humankind’s
Real way to pray.

I wish . . . ?

THE SUNSHINES BLUE . . .

On the day outside my mind,
Rides like wind flies and trains of inconsequence trade themselves for
Thoughts as I wish for more than I can have or hold or even use in this
World gone mad as a hatter,

In a world where anything can un happen, can re happen, can happen more or
Less with consequences and all the trimmings,
While we (you and I) still stay in a quandary, at a loss,
Up in the air like a coin star-crossed, our minds flipping, tripping

At all the evil dripping from the last bomb tossed.