Post Colonialism

Just a few lines from abroad, Mathilde,
to let you that I arrived safely.

First impressions: A quaint place is this republic
though sultry and distinctly backwards ---
probably a factor of climate.

The natives will probably need to meet an Ice Age
for them to cool down,
and be launched into the 22nd century.
Were it not for ice,
Europe may not have expanded.

Colonialism

The helmet is a vessel for the soldier's shaving,
serves as a cooking pot as well.

The island's sweat is in its sugar cane.
Damn the English and their tea.

Once a year, we have a blowout, we call Carnival.
Damn the Vatican and its Catholicism.

Lady H.

In Africa's water holes,
neath blue tinged skies of tenderloin,
dragons lurk submerged to snatch
distracted beasts at drink's last binge of thirst.

In these evaporating pools abides, alongside the famished crocodiles,
a normally peaceful herbivore, the absolutely Hippopotamus
who would no more go carnivore than could a python be convinced
to sing the lead role of Aida..

Crocks know to keep hippos at a distance, for the latter's weight and size
outranks the crock's own nasty disposition; which is to say, if you're size xxx
and some one's wild idea of a banquet, you better have fearsome jaws.
Take it from yours truly, who herself is like a hippo.

What Big Eyes You Have

To whom I whisper against the pillow,
who I wrestle to come to terms,
pray forgive me for what I'm about to do.

Tried I have but I know not how much longer
can be restrained in this strait jacket of my own volition worn
so I won't go wrong again .

I wonder, you victims past, present and future,
if criminals like me can can ever be rehabilitated.
Granted, this is a fairy tale.

Pretty please, society, give me a break, a break of the neck, a lethal injection
or a kindly lobotomy under heavy sedation. I'm simply a desperate guy
leaning not as heavy as I could on a little Red Riding Gal.

Thus spake Wolf after the home invasion of Grandma's cottage.

Vagrant

A bleeding sunset upons us now,
and downtown is like a prize fighter fallen over
who hears the count and let's it ride

Middle night is ushered in by the gong of twelve

These towers of glass are hieroglyphic
that finger the map, pawing at star light
while, I a vagrant, wander vacant

dwarfed by the city

Simple 27

Everybody's got a story
Everybody's in somebody's story

What's your story?
Hope it isn't total bullshit

A fair amount is excusable
After all, the field has to be manured

Simple 26

Young folk, take this advice:
If you're gonna get married,
give up your friends.
Let spouse be your sole adviser.

If you have vice,
rid yourself of it
---or stay unwed
until you've succeeded