Today I shall bestow upon you the gift of brevity. Following are two poems from years back that are probably the only things from my past that I have written that still for some reason continue to feel relevant. I hope they speak for themselves as I refuse to burden myself figuring out how to present some sort of introduction. I have more important things to be doing with my time…probably.

Rant in Rhyme

The unions gone on strike again, 
demanding their emotions back.
Picketing for thought, feeling and better wages,
but resources are running out.

The home team won the war today, 
at least that’s what the papers said,
but the sirens woke me up again
so I’m glad I didn’t place a bet.

The parade went by and no one cheered
so the band put down their instruments
to join the others in stride and fear,
but no one knows how far they went.

And ideas, now, are costly, except for a few, 
so poets dream but no longer write.
The enemy’s responsible, so I’ve been told,
for the rise in price of ink and graphite.

Now comedies do not exist,
all the actors have broken their legs,
but pharmacists can walk just fine
so now we get our kicks that way.

A Penman’s Struggle

Pen to paper 
These words stare back at me
Struggling to become more.

They look at me,
Wanting me to liberate them,
and weigh heavily upon my pen
bending my writing.

They are envious of my position
As I envy their lifelessness.

How simple it would be
To perch myself atop a two-dimensional ledge
For as long as forever.

Freeing these words from this page,
struggling to be profound and clever,
as I struggle to become a writer.