The sun is shining brightly in the hour past the dawn.

I haven’t had a shower yet or exactly know  what I’ll put on.

The Misses is still sleeping, and he kid is off to school.

There’s a coffee in my future, and the Donald still does rule.

I’ve been worried about nothing and been slightly entertained.

The worriers are stressing about losses and low gains.

The internet is filling all those heads with made-up lies.

And I will write and film and fill my days with how’s and why’s…

The summers heat has landed on our shores a beaten path.

The anger here is felt by some,the others feel their wrath.

They never knew the hardships, just mythology from a book.

Technology begat luxury and in this foundations shook.

The old men knew their errors and knew none were turning back.

Me, I left for cooler shores with my luggage on a rack.

The satellites are humming, but no one hears that sound.

Looking skyward hearing drumming. Few ears are to the ground.

The movie has no soundtrack.

That was playing in my head.

The theme was for the living.

The plot was for the dead.

It’s a story of hereafter.

Like the myths a child’s told.

Equal portions tears and laughter.

You get the girl but not the gold.

The Sunday rains came early.

Damp Sidewalks Saturday night.

The stylish got out umbrellas.

To see the brawl tween left and right.

The jabs that started early.

Are more for show, dramatic flair.

The internet is all the rage.

With so much noise so contraire.

There’s a shortage here on blue dye.

And the one that makes hair green.

All the battle plans have strategies.

That don’t offend or seem too mean.

I went home and locked the castle.

In fact, I never left the moat.

I just fired up the drawbridge.

And just let those voices shout.

The pain is psychological, like the pleasure in my head.

The wars were pathological and replaced the living with the dead.

Said you wanted peace. But I think that you want more.

Cause peace is just a lease if you don’t make for war.

It is all in preparation. Like the proverbs wisdom tell.

It’s just a sad, sad situation. To not know heaven here from hell.

I followed the sound of a jukebox coming from up the levee.

All of a sudden I could hear someone whistling right behind me.

I turned around and she said. “Why do you always end up down at Nick’s Cafe?”

I said, “I don’t know. The wind just kinda pushed me this way.”

She said, “Hang the rich.”

Owned by: Robert Jack