My last poem did not make the cut
A short shelf life upon the page
So much like life on planet earth
When strutting thesps must leave the stage
It was a poem about my twin
About the life we got to share
So much like love that always wins
When understanding clears the air
I wish that I could leave one poem
An ode that makes a lasting rhyme
So much like tears lost in the rain
When moments stand the test of time
You bring me so much laughter, you always have
my cold-water longs forever to feel a new barrage
of solid, thick, icy-blue and humongous fractures
Your crackups carry massive strength and grace
falling, cascading, splattering on top and over me
like delightful, gigantic chunks of calving glacier
Oh, how now do I write a sonnet?
and what will I pen the poem about?
it feels hard to put my feeling down
of thoughts I think about life
Is this what an ode 'tis posed to be?
how do I know if my rhymes any good?
well, I suppose it won't hurt just to try
yes, I'm here to create a verse
We ran along without a plan
To doom ourselves financially
The days and months and years flew by
Our poorness grew substantially
We buggered off without a clue
To free ourselves of prison chains
The freedom like fresh breaths of air
Our losses seeming more like gains
We sallied forth without a thought
To give ourselves a fighting chance
The guts to take less traveled roads
Our lives a candid tragic dance
We settled down without a choice
To find at last a faithful friend
The bond of twinship now full-fledged
Our closeness true-blue to the end
I'm socially insecure
with no medical care
and an empty wallet
I'll reluctantly go in
hand 'pon detonator
to kill trump & musk
Oh, he should've staying in his own lane
Musk had that highway all to himself
he shared a tip-top money spot with no one
and audiences cheered him late on night tv
But he had questionable ideas and plans
and gambled with his cultural fortunes
now, the dumb fuckers cancelled like a leper
and no one hears the richest man alive
I want to live!
But only four more years
after that, I don't care
I must be alive!
Yet only to see his death
before that, oh, I care!
Give it to them good
The case-hardened hearts
turned cadaverous
Hit them where it hurts
The ones who voted
for smug avarice
Sock it to them hard
The cold-blooded souls
dead to neediness
Kick them where it aches
The ones who caved in
to harsh greediness
Sit tight and pour the wine
Long aged inside the cask
Hold on and taste the grapes
Sour setbacks put to task
Stay put and raise the glass
Half full before fast downed
Stand up and make a toast
To love so finely found
If they take my social security check away
I'm going to explode like a microwave potato
Then I'll be as a new French revolutionary
volunteering to become a guillotine operator
