things you tweet are like your love in bed
you make a thousand promises that all go quite limp
relationships
the black hole…
it’s a simple scheme
absorb their every moment
they’ll love only you
that old dog…
ain’t worth
a hill of beans
can’t chase rabbits
anymore
too hobbled for that
and
even
the cat
now
parades
unafraid
in front of him
stopping from time
to time
to lick its paws
yep
that old dog
has lost a step
or two
can’t even see
who’s coming in the house
be it
friend or foe
he just wags his tail
and
grabs his stuffed toy bunny
recalling no doubt
the days when
a good toss
meant
a romp across the yard
and
retrieving it
was rewarded
by
a pat on the head
or
better yet
a belly rub
he’s surely
knockin’ on heaven’s door
has to be helped
up the steps
and
needs a ramp
to get into the back
of the truck
one lady said
i should
put him to sleep
i said
doc says he ain’t
in no pain
she said
there’s nothing left
but
i said
he’s still
full of love
death and dying….
though you may believe
that life ends with the last breath
i can assure you
that it can end before that
that time when all hope is lost
handicapping condition…
when love’s protection
suppresses that which is loved
it handicaps all
guising…
running door to door
like a swarm of angry bees
ignoring danger
children dash to collect treats
like a self-centered nation
america singing an old tune…
the brown bag prophet
said
when i was young
it was
illegal
for a black
to marry
someone white
though
some brave souls
did
and
were punished
in ways
most cannot understand
but then
the laws changed
and
blacks
could marry
anyone
but
they paid
in ways
most cannot understand
now days
it’s politically incorrect
to mention race
or
gender preferences
unless
you’re one of
the president’s men
who clearly
state
you’ll pay
in ways
most
cannot understand
