Free Range

A Fun Night

Tricks and tangles,

Stories and jingles.

It’s November.

It’s election time.

Can’t wait

For it to be over.

Wish I drank.

Don’t want to be sober.

Such a tragedy,

What has become

Of the media monster.

So much for a peaceful outcome.

I will dip my head

Into a hole,

And hold it there

‘Til all this blows over.

Either way,

It will be a flop,

But ratings will soar,

And anxiety will soar higher.

Does it matter

What the candidates are doing,

Or what the experts say

About their predictions?

Apparently so,

As most will be glued

To the television,

Despite the garbage.

Let the fun begin.

Manure

Manure.

That is my thought on election night.

So much stuff that has been tossed

Around by the powers that be,

As well as by we the people.

Why does it have to be like this?

Who wants to feel like our country is

Being torn apart by two people, or

The people behind those people, or

The people behind them?

I hate it for our country, because

We are so much better than a bunch of

Trash talk aimed at pushing our favorite

Candidate to the top, while instead

We are tearing everybody down,

Including ourselves.

Damn, I can’t wait for closing time.

That will be a sweet hour.

Many of us won’t sleep well tonight,

Maybe for many nights.

We’ll be worried about the fate

Of the country we love,

The lives we’ve worked hard

To build for ourselves,

The future for our children.

Tonight, though, I’ll stick with

Manure.