This poem
is worth far more
than a
greasy slip
of paper
with a dead man on it.
So please accept
this as truth
and religion
and not
the other.


They’re coming

I run to the door
and bolt it shut.
Panting, I glance
to the windows.
They’re shut,
the shutters aren’t.
Slinking low,
I peak out.

Yes, there they are
marching down the street.
No shoes, all hair and hunger
I slam the shutters shut.

Some people dislike
because they’re
rowdy, loudy,
and crude
as a hobbit
there’s nothing
I fear more
other’s second breakfast’s,
or large families.
There’s nothing
I fear more
the hobbits coming.

The Hypocrisy of Information

We demand
to have our government documents
visible and available
and insist they be in reach
for whenever we wish
to call upon them.

So every Thursday
I hike back through the shelves
of decomposing brown books
that no one can throw away
Reading their titles as I pass.

“House Documents Vol. 82
Water Supply and Irrigation Papers 173-178”
“Senate Executive Documents Vol. 3
Tariffs of the American Publics Part 4”

I hide back here
protected by the wall of government information
that we demand to have
knowing I can get all of my homework done