Goodbye Democracy

By Bud Koenemund

(With apologies to Margaret Wise Brown)

Dedicated to those who would not look past their own wallet

In a great white house
There sits an orange man;
With an enemies list,
A Diet Coke, and bucket of chicken.

Oh, how he’ll brag, and spout, and lie –
A ManChild nothing short of bratty –
And set about doing the only job he has:
To destroy us from within for his Sugar Vladdy.

Goodbye NATO;
Goodbye Ukraine;
Goodbye Paris Climate Accord;
Welcome back acid rain.

Goodbye Supreme Court
And women’s rights, it seems;
So, too, LGBTQ protections;
Welcome Heritage Foundation’s religious wet dreams.

Goodbye to bodily autonomy;
Goodbye to abortion;
Goodbye to proper health care;
Welcome, once more, medical burden.

Goodbye to equal rights for People of Color;
Goodbye to those lost in mass deportations;
Goodbye to non-partisan government employees;
Welcome back those found guilty of insurrection.

Goodbye Social Security;
Goodbye Medicare;
Goodbye prescription drug caps,
And Obama’s Affordable Care.

Goodbye independent DoJ and FBI;
Goodbye Department of Education;
Goodbye school breakfast and lunch;
Welcome the dangers of deregulation.

Goodbye student debt relief;
Goodbye teaching history;
Goodbye to the truth,
And banned books they call “pornography.”

Goodbye to diversity;
Goodbye to voting rights;
Goodbye to clean energy;
Welcome to Mango Mussolini’s free speech blight.

Goodbye to overtime;
Hello to tariffs on every nation;
Goodbye to taxes for the rich;
While the middle class suffers inflation.

Goodbye Democracy;
You had a pretty good run;
Achieving so much good;
But, by ignorance, undone.

Just a Thought...

By Bud Koenemund

Here's a little lesson I taught at physical therapy yesterday. A few therapists and patients were discussing the woeful performance of the Pittsburgh Pirates. They lamented that the team never really gets better. Now, it's well known that the team owner doesn't spend a lot (in relative terms) of money on the team. So, I explained that if they really wanted the team to get better, they should stop watching them; stop buying their merchandise, and stop going to their games. The owner has shown that he will give you what you accept. If you accept a team that struggles -- year after year -- to remain in the middle of the standings, that's what the owner will give -- while still making money for himself.
I told them this also translates to shopping. Does it annoy you when you go to Walmart, and they only have one cashier on duty -- while having 10-20 "self-checkout" lanes open? You're in a hurry, so you ring up your items (sans any kind of employee discount for doing their job). All while being watched by one employee and multiple cameras to ensure you're not cheating them by not ringing up every item. Well, it's the same principle. If you show Walmart that you'll do their job for them, they'll give you what you'll accept. Why put more cashiers on duty if the people will do it themselves?
But, if -- and I know this would be an inconvenience for a day, or two -- if 27 shoppers lined up at the one manned cash register, and refused to use the self-checkout lane, it would force Walmart to open another lane. And, if it happened again the next day, Walmart might get the message.
Well, it's just a thought.

All Over Again

By Bud Koenemund

I think about you

every day. And, miss you

all over again.

Debt

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

  He started, sensing a presence behind him.
  “There aren’t many people who can sneak up on me,” he reflected.
  “I didn’t,” the form replied, quietly. “I’ve followed you for a long time; since your very beginning, in fact. And, waited patiently.”
  “I was a good man… once,” he whispered, as realization dawned. “After I was broken, it just became too painful to care.”
  “Life is often that way,” the figure offered. “But, I am not here to judge; only to collect the debt each man must pay.”
  Examining his own body on the ground, he nodded; then turned to follow.

The Inevitability of Things

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

Inspired by Christina Alvarado

  He’s always there. Always following. Steadily gaining ground. Inexorably closing in.
  Too often, he’s forgotten in the rush of life – until he visits someone close, and we’re reminded of the inevitability of things.
  He arrives without joy or malice. He makes no bargains for more time. He expects acceptance, though he is never surprised when people attempt escape.
  I turn quickly, trying to catch a glimpse. He is standing in the shadows. Not hiding – that’s not his way. Moonlight glints off the blade of his scythe.
  “Memento mori,” he whispers.
  I give a knowing nod, and turn to walk on.

The Devil and the Darkness

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For M.

  Michelle had a boyfriend she loved. But – from time to time – she needed to see Brian. He wasn’t a friend with benefits… not exactly. Brian was, she thought, the Devil. Somehow, he knew her darkest desires. Often, she felt shame at the disgusting things he made her do – acts she would never reveal to another living soul. Then, she’d admit to herself that he never forced her to do anything, and that she enjoyed the way he made her cum over and over. She’d feel the warm tingle between her legs and pick up her phone to call him again.

Heaven and Hell

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For Lindsay.

  “My boyfriend is in the other room,” she rasped, as his right hand slipped under her skirt and up between her legs.
  “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered.
  The fingers of his left hand entangled in her hair. He tugged, tilting her head back; exposing her neck to his lips.
  “Tell me to stop,” he mumbled, his mouth barely leaving her flesh, “and I will.”
  “You’re going to send me to hell,” she objected; already fighting for breath.
  In the darkness, his lips curved into a wicked grin.
  “Maybe,” he allowed. “But, I’ll take you to heaven first.”

Fuck Cancer!

Dear Santa;

  I know it's a bit late in the game (it being less than a week before Christmas and all), but I'd like to change my wish list. I asked for a handful of things that are sort of silly. But, what I really want -- NEED -- is a cure for cancer.

  Not for myself, of course. I don't have the medical need. And, I'd never be able to figure out all that medical/science-y stuff. (Damn it, Jim; I'm a sonneteer, not a doctor.)

  But, if you could drop it off to someone at Sloan Kettering in New York City, I'd really appreciate it.

  PS: This would square us for that whole never giving me a BB gun thing.

Mute

By Bud Koenemund

For Tahni

Thoughts of you persist;
Impure desires o’erwhelm,
yet I remain mute.

Retreat

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For "Her."

  His eyes were drawn to her instantly. Like a firefly in the dark, she was a brilliant flash in the gloom. Catching sight of him, she waved. Memories flooded his brain: how he'd craved her like a drug; the indescribable pain of her leaving; how he'd desperately clung to shreds of sanity while hoping she'd come back, and how she did – more times than he'd admit – only to abandon him once he'd surrendered again. In that moment, his heart realized – finally, reluctantly, accepting – loving her would always end that way. He managed a weary smile, then turned to walk away.