Alien Blues 

Carrots dangle on strings 

before their eyes 

as whips snap and crack 

in the form of lies  

and the stress and strain  

is all they know 

while a cadence blares 

it’s rock and roll 

and the pay never seems 

to make the grade 

and then there’s the fear 

of another raid 

but the masters still smile 

for all they’ll save 

in the ancient tradition 

of owner and slave.

Old Timer 

When they talk about 

the good old days 

believe me, 

they really were 

the good old days 

till someone came along 

singing their song 

about freedom and change 

as if to rearrange 

and improve upon 

the perfect gods 

of our immaculate youth

Retired 

I can’t, won’t even begin to tell you 

who, what and where I’ve been 

but I feel like a bit of debris 

in the wall of a tornado 

spinning down and 

down  and  down

then  discarded

on the ground 

with nothing

 but  vague  

memories

of better

days