True Tragedy

If I listen closely
I can hear
 the theme playing
from the soundtrack
of Schindler’s List
I sit quietly holding
my Mothers
embroidered lace
every time
you all begin
your worthless
helpless whining
 gazing at us
with disingenuous
sad eyes
hoping we will say,
“there there, everything
will be alright, we’ll
take care of you.”
you expect
that we will sob for you
but we have no tears left
all the violins
have been
taken elsewhere
to attend to
the real tragedies
in the world
playing Kaddish by Ravel
for the thousands
that have died
I recall the story of
those brave musicians
who sat on
 the deck of the Titanic
they were performing
 for the last time
 did they play
 Asokam Farewell
by Ungar?
they suffered
 while waiting
our world
 is suffering
real sadness
I hear
Joseph Achran’s
Hebrew Melody
I now see
Bocelli standing alone
on the stage
slowly begins to play,
Con te par tiro
“Time to Say Goodbye”

Far from Normal

Sickly disingenuous smile
your thick tentacles wrap tight
around the hearts and minds of loved ones
and to anyone who will listen
you stand and orate and pontificate
spewing false science
your air of superiority so profound
It astounds us yet we remain silent
unsure where your pathology stems from
you remain so hopelessly dependent
with a gaping wound so visible
that no amount of gauze could fill
you fester, we watch
you reach trying to pull us closer
wanting us to circle your vortex
you seem to be unaware
that we have detached from you
we still smile and have joy
while you frown
through your days
constantly pointing out to everyone
else what is wrong with them
while we all sit here and clearly see
everything that is wrong with you
no we’re not blind
so please
don’t try to hand us your glasses
It’s all crystal to us
you’re the one that’s shattered

What the Bartender Sees

All the Bourbon-swilling bar flies with
Bad breath and beady eyes
Who sit with legs crossed but opened up enough
To hope that the sight of their Beaver
Will provide the pouring of more Jim Beam
So they won’t be passed over…
So so pathetic…
And the prowling men
Who prey on their souls
failing to see the predicament
Hoping to wake up with anyone
Rather than be alone
So fearful
So needing to forget as well
Pour more…
Slurry speech
Starry eyes
Searching for something,
anything with Meaning
Yet so slovenly…
Changing tones in laughter
Sounds once sultry, now shrill
Laughing at things that are no longer funny
Looking to pick a fight,
Not even knowing what about.
The screaming eyes,
Pleading for Help
The Bartender grateful
Not for the tips,
But the clock…
Last call.

Don’t Assume

someone who drives an old jalopy
is a failure
someone dressed in tattered
clothes is an Unkempt Bum
that a woman without a
mani or a pedi is just plain and boring
that the man with calloused
hands would not be suitable to take you dancing
That people who do not live large
are not cultured
that your job will always be there
and that everyone will remember you after
you’ve Gone
Learn To be very Skeptical and leery
Of Suits Driving Porsches
With Bleached Teeth and
Platinum blondes on their arms
run as fast as you can
If they ask you for money to invest
lock your doors…
Especially when they promise things
that are too good to be true
Go Ask the priests when was the
last time they went to confession?
get a list of all the really “successful” people
who are able to sleep well at night