The Golden Age

                                            

The Golden Age

It was the golden age of music.

We streamed jazz and sang the blues.

Sang in a somber tone

we couldn’t stand the goddamn news.

It was the golden age of beer,

crafted, stout and pale.

While we drank they locked us up,

two million more in jail.

It was the golden age of knowledge

that kept us riveted to our phones.

We had a thousand friends on Facebook

and never felt more alone.

It was the golden age of the U.S.A.

You had to stand for the Red, White and Blue.

Though “none dare call it treason”

We all knew, oh yes we knew.

Some earlier efforts

We Smoked

13AUG

Even in the new office we smoked
Marlboros long and strong
Until tobacco smells covered
The odor of fear and sweat
That was always present.

Even in the jail we smoked
With clients whom we had little to offer
Except a real cigarette as opposed to
The rolled Drum that was their only
Source of nicotine and comfort.

Even in the courthouse we smoked
In the stairwells and hallways
In the jury rooms and holding cells
And the smoke lingered in the rooms
Where the judges stood guard.

Even in your last room we smoked
While you gasped for air and said goodbye.
I took you to the parlor across the street
They burned your body and I watched
The smoke rise from the chimney out my office window.27

DEC

Encased in Glass (1978)

Worthless oaks, encased in glass

withered roots still holding fast.

A memory of a changing time

broken bones and endless rhymes.

Caring through the long lost years

shedding bits of broken tears

all through tiime and endless space

just to catch one glimpse–a face.

Traveling onward, ever caring

ever conscious of the load I’m bearing

Moving cross the desolate lands

over barren hills and endless sands

just to bring my hopes to you

of love that never will be through.

Shattered bits of broken trees

tells of a love never given to me. 

CHECK OUT TIME

When it’s time to check out

When it’s time to go

Will you hear me complaining

About fate? No.

But don’t let me leave life

From a room full of flowers

With family and friends

Coming round every hour.

Please don’t make me hear

Hollow words of sympathy

Or refuse to disclose

Intimate details of the disease

I don’t want to see fear

In my loved one’s eyes

Or watch them make plans contingent

On when I might die.

Will there be pain?

Will there be sorrow?

Will I be missed?

Or remembered tomorrow?

Tried healing bitter wounds

Not wanting to hear

 The anguished old cries

Of those I hold dear.

Their life will go on

My pain will soon cease

Once urged to fight

I now seek release.

Some will be glad they outlived me

But others will soon realize

While they must continue the struggle

All I had to do was die.

(1999)

The Ides of March (1996)

19DEC

There’s a buzz in the kitchen   There’s a buzz on the porch

There’s a baby in the oven      There’s a baby born in March

Shrimp on the table    Fishes in the sea

Market in the morning     Dinner on the Key

Hope to have us a future

Already got us a past

Hope to have us a future

Gonna make this one last

This Florida lifestyle      Is making me sweat

Wanna make something happen    Hasn’t happened yet

Scandals in the paper   Nonsense in the air

Talk all around    Lies everywhere

Used to look forward

Now we look back

Used to make plans

Now we just laugh

There’s some new folk a coming    Some new folk here soon

Some old folk a leaving      Done all they can do

Houses all built    Streets all paved

Water’s all gone    What’s left to save?

I remember a time 

 Our own special place

Now and then there’s a smile

Coming over our face