Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Gotta Have Priorities

Of Crowley and GatesGate the media still chatters;
Though Jackson is dead now, his story they'll batter.
The Democrats screw
Their restless Pooch Blue .
Is it in this order that these stories matter?

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Sunday, July 26, 2009

For Your Information

[EDIT: This entry is part of a contest. To help me win it, leave a comment and click either of the DermaNetwork links here.]

Come hither, friends, I must of tan-beds tell:
They have not Heaven's light, but heat of Hell!
For though we've Phoebus' steeds put to the bit,
They'll not their rider bear, they'll trample it,
With UV rays of such abundancy
Is matched by tanners, their profligacy.
A million souls do daily rest in those,
Not beds, nay! coffins hot enclosed.
This tanning legion, would-be Boehners all,
Are, like Ben Button, in an age withdrawal.

"More have been going since their years as tots,
Thus do more youth have Melanoma spots.
One patient mine, his skin had cancers three!"
Saith Doctor Zimmet. Would you disagree?
Some near receive their lifetime UV fix
Ere they're th' consenting age for carnal tricks.

"To combat this, the states must and do fight
With legislation," thus saith Lauren Wright.
Although Montana failed, there is a pending law,
I' a score of states, including Arkansas.
That minor access ought to be controlled
By doctor is a notion been well polled.
One out of ten such laws would like t' see;
That's better than Mahmoud his so-called victory.

I know no clearer way to out this spell,
So mark this wisdom, friends, and mark it well:
Not only safer is a minor ban,
It's also cooler than a killer tan.

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So it escalates.
Will this beast be placated?
Th' Grave of Empires yawns.

Friday, July 24, 2009


'Twas stupid enough when Crowley cuffed Gates,
Obama then came off a bit (shock!) irate.
With all of the sound
That's deaf'ning Georgetown
You never would know there's a healthcare debate.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

A Heroic Coup, extempore

I wonder lately; what is GOP?
Perhaps its gop, a substance slippery.
If so, it could in multitudes of form
Assume--for short a time when over warmed.
A watchdog, say, with tight a fiscal leash;
Mayhap a hawk whose wingspan's overreached.
A predator, a troll for carnal play,
Sometime a lamb, did seeming blameless pray.
A wolfsbane bulldog, rural and petit,
Does Pale, become a Kristol-ine elite.
With passage of a week a sixpack Joe
Translates into a plumber with a co.
A Dick with Southern Strategy appeal?
A Bu-cannon with balls of Michael Steele?
An entity so oft transmogrified
Can't be by others--self!--identified.
Take comfort, though, gop's easier to tell
The more it sheds as nears its deathly knell.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

On Walter Cronkite

America’s anchorman, Walter Cronkite,
Has shuffled his coil, extinguished his light.
Moon landing or Tet
Or JFK’s death,
He always was there, so good luck and good night.

Friday, July 3, 2009