#thepoetscorner

I bought a hand gun

The day Betty White died

At the age of 99;

Nothing really special, hun,

Just a Ruger 45.

Your un-woke asshole reeks

From the shit your mad mouth spews,

Between those orange cheeks

In front of all these pews.

I’m tired of their twisted lips

Spiitting toxic viper vile,

Over their silicone tits

And plastic cherry smiles.

Kenny ain’t doin’ nothing

To make this country great,

Sipping gin from red Solo cups

Ice cold with so much hate.

I bought a hand gun

The day Betty White died;

A pretty-in-pink one -

Why are you so surprised?

To them, we’re all weirdo freaks

Mock righteousness they choose,

When pecking their crooked beaks

At loose bags of nuts and screws.

A merry round of pistols whip

These Proud Boys into shape,

With a gaggle of firm grips

And dazzling rainbow capes.

Karen ain’t doin’ nothing

To make this country great,

Serving slices of poison pie

On fancy Chinet plates.

All this too shall come to pass

When I cap a bullet in your ass.

I bought a hand gun

The day Betty White died;

Not for sport or fun

Just trying to survive.

In a sea of sheep

Sailing on a ship of fools,

Pray the Lord, their souls to keep

Courtesy of Fox News.

Flo can kiss my grits

There won’t be any trial,

No judges to acquit

When I blast those redneck smiles.

They ain’t doin’ nothing

To make this country great,

Wearing their red dunce caps

Y’all hennies took the bait.

I bought a hand gun

The day Betty White died;

Chic-Fil-A better run

Before I cross the other side.

There won’t be any jury

No church bells down the aisle,

Our palms are clenched with fury

Cuz you treaded on our style.

We don’t wish you well

It’s time to face the nation,

You won’t live to tell

When you face our congregation.

You ain’t doin’ nothing

To make this country great,

This is the hate you breed when

Indifference learns to procreate.

All this too shall come to pass

When I cap a bullet in your ass.

I bought a hand gun

The day Betty White died

At the age of 99;

Nothing really special, hun,

Just trying to survive.

5/30.  will i stop writing about food? who knows. text id under cut

But your touch is all I know.

You touch me not with your hands

but with your soul

march 7, 2020

Communal rifts From partisan politics

Relinquished respect For close relatives

Relationships are tested The fuses are lit

Both sides heavily invested For reasons both deem legit

If you say “All lives matter” One more time I’m going to explode

And fuck me for saying “Systemic racism exists”

For reasons unknown You can’t understand How you raised Such a compassionate kid

There were

too many things

I've left unsaid

So instead

Those words

Clumped in my throat

Rolled down my cheeks

Carried by my breaths

They speak

Of the should have beens

Or the could have beens

All of which

Remaining still

Unspoken

As it's always been

A slow silent kill

collect the debris of my wasted heart

collect the corpses from the highway tracks

we’re never going to change

we’re never going to change

we’re never going to change our ways.

i

am a non-believer now

i

don’t even know, somehow,

and you and you and you and you and you

should know.

smash the CDs in the living room

smash the piano with a broken broom

we’re never going to change

we’re never going to change