All posts in "Rants and Resistance"

Day of the Game

Published December 5, 2017 in Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Game day

It was,

and yes

that’s a shovel.

And a hula hoop

and a grill.

And by game

you know we really mean

Game for whatever.

Doing some digging

in the garden with some worms.

Worm shit is it.

Exclamation point.

Chapel of the Holy Cross

Published August 31, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Chapel of the Holy Cross

Cross built into the red rock hillside.

The red blood of Christ implied

in what was once clearly an ocean floor.

Long before humanity was even possible.

The notion that Earth is six thousand years old

is like saying the sun is a hot balloon.

Why does Christianity need to make natural history its victim?


Chapel of the Holy Cross built in 1956. Inspired and commissioned by rancher and sculptor, Marguerite Brunswig Staude. Design executed by architect August K. Strotz.

On the site of one of the Sedona vortices.

The Forecast Calls for Pain

Published August 29, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Forecast Calls for Pain

It’s raining diamonds on Neptune.

In the deep blue hydrocarbon seas.

Strangely beautiful and completely devoid of life.

Here on Earth we have a deluge of water.

Inconvenient, but more valuable in a million ways.

The queen of diamonds represents two diverging paths.

Which will be ours?

Preserving our treasure or

drowning in inorganic riches?

The Great White Ropa-Dope

Published August 25, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

White Ropadope2

It’s a big time money deal.

So they play the race bait.

To get the cash come rainin’ down.

They cyncially market with the color animus.

It’s the Irish boy’s brain,

they don’t give a rat’s ass about.

The head trauma pays.

The race drama plays.

They’ll have few years before

the hand shakes start.


Published August 23, 2017 in Arizona Stories , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments


I may have seen

through the fabric of the universe.

On the day of the solar eclipse,

I sat in meditation and felt

the metallic yin.

The moon cold and decisive as Ulysses’ sword.

It was the approaching night

that I would, thankfully, only witness.

But I saw it,

like a spectator in the coliseum,

the steel grey blades

that killed the gladiators.


63 words, I am forever free from 55. Now, it’s about how ever many words I need to say what it is I have to say.

March on Charlottesville

Published August 12, 2017 in Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

March on Charlottesville

When there is hatred in your heart,

you are easily manipulated.

The resentment and rage makes you easy prey.

And peace or contentment will elude you

because there is always something or someone else

who is responsible for your lot.

Only love and owning up to it

will bring you what you say you want.

My Sheperd

My Shepaerd

God is the master of random.

He plays it like a cheap suit chess player.

And he is the ultimate in thinking many moves ahead.

God thinks, like, a million moves ahead.

In fact, he’s already thought of the move

that will bring us back to the beginning.

And, he’s already made it.

Your move.

Front and Center

Published July 3, 2017 in Jack Sprat , Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Front and Center2

What if Jack were sitting

in the middle of an answered prayer…

But he was too preoccupied

with everything to realize it?

And what if, instead…

He stopped and took inventory

of all the things that had come to him

in spite of his desire

to see otherwise?

He might already have

everything he needs.

Mother Goosestep

Published June 27, 2017 in Rants and Resistance - 0 Comments

Mother Goosestep

She lived in a shoe.

This made us strongly suspect that something was wrong.

So many children she didn’t know what to do.

Why? No Planned Parenthood?

Gave them broth without bread.

Gluten free bone broth, no doubt.

And whipped them soundly and put them to bed.

Wait! What?

She probably had a thyroid condition.

Chicken Little

Chicken Little

Why did the chicken cross the Möbius strip?

To get to the other side.

Same reason he crossed the road.

There’s only so many ways you can answer the important questions.

Another equally important question is:

How much smack could a woodchuck talk if a woodchuck could talk smack?

I mean, inquiring minds must know.


There’s a much dirtier version of this story. Bit I spared you because you don’t need your minds filled with more filth. 😉