with apologies to john 16:33…

i built this tree-house
from which
i can
observe
the heavens
and
the earth
without
worldly influence
except for
the occasional bee
or
sounds emanating
from
the pears
i’ve harvested
and
dine upon
it’s
an excellent place
to resolve
issues
of the soul
a soul
that grows
so weary
of hypocrites
and
bullies
those
self-selected strawmen
suckling on society
all the while
protesting to be
our
savior
deliverer
from all evil
as well as
all the cash
we may have
lying around
and
although
their derelict dreams
dominate
the national cartoon networks
i am of good cheer
for next year’s
another
election year

measuring…

the paint’s
worn off
where your fingers
carefully
calculated
what would be needed
to complete
the job
but
how many hours
were counted
as you made it
take shuffling steps
in and out
of its case
as you
sat
waiting
for
the union bosses
to
punch your card
granting
you
right of passage
to
the job site
and
to
moments of hope
hope
for a better life
for
those you love
better
than
yours
you
the poor
and
unwanted
immigrant seed
cast upon
this nation’s
desert sands
and
told
to grow
without water