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RON DE NOBEL LAUREATE

Stockholm, Sweden. This year’s Nobel Prize Committee today announced Ron DeSantis as the winner of the 2023 Nobel Prize for Fractured Logic. 

“No other candidate came even close,” the committee’s spokesperson declared. “Governor DeSantis, as the prime driving force behind Florida’s new guidelines on teaching racial history in the state’s middle schools, has stepped into world leadership as a proponent of fractured logic. “Pure genius!” the announcement declares. “By defying—and fracturing—logic in its new guidelines, the Florida Department of Education has vaulted Governor DeSantis to the forefront of specious arguments.”

In one bold move, Governor DeStantis shot ahead of Tucker Carlson who claimed the January 6th insurrection was actually a tour group visit to the Capitol. And also eclipsed Donald J. Trump whose logic in declaring his ability to mentally declassify state documents was thought to have stretched the limits in fracturing logic to a new world record.

“Governor DeSantis’ sponsorship of a guideline that insists slavery be taught as an institution fostering skills that later benefitted slaves, has shaken the foundations of logic worldwide and forever,” the Committee declared. To prove the validity of its statement, the Committee pointed out, “…within moments of the release of Florida’s guidelines on teaching slavery, lawyers for convicted felons filed suit in the U.S. Supreme Court claiming victims of rape, robbery and aggravated assault enjoyed untold benefits that were never considered at the time of their clients’ convictions.”

Many of the rapists were said to be hoping for a pardon should Donald J. Trump win the presidency in 2024.

RACES RUN

IT’S RECALLING ALL THE RACES RUN

That makes me tend to frown 

and often fret.

It’s recalling that my memory’s gone

Left behind in all the struggles and

The races I never ran

but still regret.

IT’S KNOWING THAT AS A YOUNG MAN I

Had muscles, wavy hair and 

Unspent power that

Fueled my stride.

All receding in some cruelly ebbing tide

Leaving a shell that clings

With diminished self awareness and

Deflated pride.

IT’S NOT LIVING IN A WORLD I NEVER CHOSE

That makes me question 

The young man that stands

Behind the eyes.

It’s living in a body that fails too often

And takes me out of service

With a sudden and disturbing 

Sense of surprise.

It’s feeling shackled and forgotten

In a prison of my Maker’s 

Cruelest device.

A prison whose walls crumble and fall

Once so proud and oh-so tall

Now projecting one’s 

Inevitable demise.

IT’S THE CARESSES AND THE WHISPERS

Of lovers whose final tally 

Will never change.

It’s the walls and fences 

Once there to jump

That leave the fading athlete

blushingly contained.

No more Siren calls to

Draw the man

In search of treasure 

Or hollow fame.

Not even when the Siren calls him out

By his once 

Familiar name.

IT’S THE POWER AND THE FIRES OF MY YOUTH

Thoughtlessly squandered and 

Stupidly spent,

The races I now count as lost

Beyond repair

Whose echoing absence 

I sacredly repent.

Till I cannot count the years

That connive to outgrow my body,

Weaken my resolve and, yes, 

Haunt my soul.

They undo my plans and cause

Me to ask with grim reality, 

When did I ever get 

So fucking old?

AMERICAN MADNESS

Sit back and put your feet up. It’s time for American Madness!

Hey, feeling a little bored tonight? Or maybe you’re not in the mood to hear how your spouse spent his or her day. Well, we know what you can do. Just turn on the TV, sit back on the Lazy Boy, tell the kids to stop fighting and turn your attention to the man on the screen.

“IT’S TIME TO PLAY AMERICAN MADNESS!” 

Sure, this is what you need: applause and laughter filling the room, contestants squealing in delight. And you only have to wait there quietly as Steven Harvey gets the show rolling.

“Contestant Number One,” Steve says, addressing an attractive young housewife from Akron, Ohio. “Your first question is worth $5,000. Answer correctly and you’ll win your choice of two fabulous prizes: a three week trip to Hawaii for you and your family, staying at the Honolulu Five Seasons luxury resort or, second choice, a year’s worth of food and medical supplies for a drought-stricken Nigerian Bantu village.

Somehow all this talk about prizes makes you think about your Christmas gift list, so you hardly notice the photos that flash across the screen, first the group shot of the African villagers, about 50 in all, then a photo of the Five Seasons Hilton, as seen through a grove of palm trees.

Before you can shake free from your reverie, Contestant Number One correctly answers her question and chooses the Hawaiian dream trip, joking to Steve that she’d always wanted to wear a grass skirt.

That girl has a good sense of humor, you tell yourself. Not like some other people you could name. That starts you thinking about your boss, and if you were looking at yourself you’d notice wrinkles appearing on your forehead and the muscles around your mouth tensing up. Steve’s carnival barker voice returns your roving mind to the images on the screen.

“Contestant Number Two,” he calls. “Your first question is also worth five thousand dollars. Guess correctly and you get to choose between a genuine Tiger Woods golf cart, or securing the release of Juan Diego, a political prisoner in Venezuela who’s been imprisoned for three years.”

Contestant Number Two, a robotics repair technician from Derry, New Hampshire, reminds you of your older brother, Sam. There’s something in the way he leans his head sideways that reminds you of Sam, and you find yourself getting excited as the prize pictures flash across the screen. You even murmur a cheer when he correctly answers his question. But then, when he hesitates in choosing his prize, you experience a surprising level of irritation that relates more to your feelings about Sam than Contestant Number Two.

“Can I see the golf cart again?” Contestant Number Two requests.

Instantly, the Tiger Woods golf cart, with Tiger at the wheel, fills the screen.

“And the political prisoner…?”

As Juan Diego’s image appears, shown hidden in the depths of a tiny cell lit by a 60 watt bulb, you rise from your chair. You have it in mind to head for the  kitchen, but you pause at the threshold to hear Contestant Number Two choose his prize.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought it was someone I knew from school, but it wasn’t. I’ll take the golf cart.”

You’re already in the kitchen by the time Steve Harvey sums up the score and leads into the commericals, saying, “We’ll be right back to see which of our contestants gets to choose between a fabulous antique Persian rug worth $10,000 OR,” he suddenly shouts, “a year’s temporary housing for twenty of America’s most desperate homeless families. But first, these important announcements.

Staring into the refrigerator, you realize you’re still bored. Or maybe you’re just hungry. In either case, you make yourself a banana and peanut butter sandwich, fetch a glass of milk and take them back to the living room. 

You return just in time to see Contestant Number One shouting and jumping up in her excitement at winning the beautiful antique Persian rug.

WATCH YOUR STEP! Republican Shit Storm Straight Ahead.

From the moment Donald Trump took control of the Republican Party, that venerable political institution not only lost its soul, but lost its way.

The twice-impeached, totally disgraced grifter from New York City, is not only the first American president about to be indicted for criminal activity, but also the first to attempt a coup d’etat! And still the first and only president in history to attempt to overthrow the duly elected American government. 

That his coup failed, was not a result of the Republican Party abandoning him in his criminal activity, but of a few key Republicans, including Trump’s vice president, maintaining their allegiance to country and constitution rather than the autocratic and aggrieved one-term president.

Let it be forever known that the Republican Party disgraced itself in its loyalty and fealty to this totally unworthy human being.

That the Republican Party is still allowed a seat at the table in American politics is a tragic flaw of the system that could ultimately prove its undoing.

REUNION

Such a strange place for a family reunion

HERE’S MY UNCLE MILTIE

And his wife, my Aunt Flo

Last seen apart,

But together again for our reunion

And there, my Uncle Marty, 

Quiet now as he always was

Testament to the quiet heroes 

Sent to fight Hitler and rescue Europe

Home now, here in New Jersey 

Waiting for his bride, my Aunt Rita

Who finally, after 50 long years

Is ready to rejoin her lost love 

And take her place in our fallen family 

Rita, whose passing has called us all,

The survivors and the caretakers

To gather in solemn reunion

On this hill in New Jersey

Amongst our family of Stones

SUCH A STRANGE PLACE

For a family reunion,

This bare windy Hill 

In Northern New Jersey

A Jewish cemetery filled to its heights

With loved ones and familiar names

Who populated my childhood 

With smiles, laughter 

And loving embraces

A childhood where each was a god

As adults will seem in a child’s world 

But gods no more, here on this hill

Gone, and some only hazily recalled

Resting now and waiting, 

All of them fallen under the weight

Of well- or poorly-lived lives  

Patiently they wait beneath their stones

For the next generation

My cousins and I, to join them

Here amongst the Stones.

I STAND HERE, ALWAYS A CHILD

Staring down at the graves

Of my father and mother

Both gone long enough 

That I forget the sadness

That once blinded my eyes 

And filled my lungs

I place stones on their stones

To let them know

My love holds fast and true

Even if memory dims

Some of my treasured images

Old as I am or will become

I will always be their son

Even on this hill in New Jersey

Here amongst the Stones

The silent Stones.

I will always be their son