there once was a young man from Georgetown
who went through his life with a frown
so he brought home a bear
and let it live there
but old Smokey soon burned the place down
///
Got hung up on the limerick thing, I suppose.
by James Brush
Year: 2016
did you hear about Senator Sanders
giving speeches condemning the bankers?
he waves both his arms—
he sure has his charms
even as to the hipsters he panders
///
along came the Donald named Trump
whose campaign was a fire at the dump
with so little conscience
he incited raw violence
while doing improv out on the stump
///
The R’s final hope standing was Cruz
campaigning like he thought he was Zeus
outlasting all foes
puffed up his ego
and soon it’ll be us that he screws
///
Secretary Senator First Lady Clinton
with big money and power was smitten
when threatened with jail
she released her emails
and as always claimed nothing was hidden
///
take a look at old Governor Kasich
working hard not to appear too caustic
mods seem to dig him
though with chances so slim
he’s scarce worth the time for this lim’rick
—
This is Not a Literary Journal: Limericks
Until today, I had never tried limericks. This was fun.
sometimes there are coyotes
all around the house
they bed down in the front yard
in the trees and behind my memories
asleep with one eye open, stars
twirl the pole counted and known
they’ll rise and howl at owls, the moon
or anyone else impersonating
strangers who come up to the yard
they stalk a defensive perimeter
while we sleep while we dream
they open the fridge and eat
the last of the girl scout cookies
a little whipped cream for their coffee
come morning they’ve gone, a few
paw prints in the dewy grass
///
Not a Literary Journal: Ode to an Animal | PAD 11: Defensive Poem
we inspect each bug
the blue magnifying glass
makes us scientists
the fossil sky is a thick blanket
fog rolled in from the bay
the trees have disappeared
muffled birdsong drifts in waves
the sea is so close
other continents just a stone’s
throw away skip away
I’m invisible until that stone
thunks into the tide and sinks
down to the seafloor down
///
we spent twenty bucks and two
hours to see a movie that showed
only things
we already knew about
urban blight dark corners
love magic and the way
popcorn smells after it’s
been stepped on by
two hundred shuffling feet
black birds land
on a chainlink fence rattling
so faint it could be your failing
heart
the ambulances were so far away
they couldn’t come in time
lone cirrus wisp
a temporary arrow
pointing back toward home
and she said the waves would come
the way she said the stars were gone
beyond/beneath were synonyms
and for once I listened and believed
how was it that we found our way
in imaginary boats
across this sun-flecked sea
where she said sharks once lived
beyond horizons and beneath the waves
ocean curls waves foam
sand toes sunk deeper down
lifeguard flags snap warnings of sharks
and wind and high concentrations
of bacteria washed down from floods
two days drive north of here
how was it that we found our way
how was it that we found this sea
how was it that we knew the stars
how was it that they led us home
///
sulphur butterfly
stone skipping across the sky
wind and highway noise
see your son
a gun in his hand
belt of shells
around his waist
disarm that boy
teach him—
find diversion
without annihilation
///
Erasure poem from a letter written by M.B. Davis of Waco to the Texas Congress of Mothers in 1910 regarding the widespread killing of grackles by children who were encouraged to hone their marksmanship skills
Source—“A History of Austin’s Love-Hate Relationship with the Grackle” by Andrew Weber on kut.org