Concerto for blunt instrument

An irregular heartbeat from d.o. to you. Not like a daily kos, more like a sometime sloth. Fast relief from the symptoms of blogarrhea and predicated on the understanding that the world is not a stage for our actions, rather it is a living organism upon which we depend for our existence.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

The Mad King

The Mad King
will have us sing
his remove and
everything he
had done under the Sun.
The Mad King
caused such pain
and laughter feign
his sorry reign
did not remain
enough to gain
any real place in history
in herstory or
anywhere really
except tales told around
campfires burning late
into the night.
Remember The Mad King?
that fucking nasty thing
and those who gave him space
that crazy mad race
over the cliff
no more, at last
into your face.
Remember The Mad King?
What a sad disgrace.

Sunday, February 19, 2017


we prefer a lower case
not lording it over the rest
of us, the land and dwellers
who’ve no use for fancy dress
or the rest, the useless mess
the grand gestures cloaked
in lies and edicts from owners
of too much or too little regard
for others and the water, these
trees always green, always
filtering harsh light and the
fight for a fair day where no
taxing trials will undo us or
the rest of it, the ways we go
without your disregard,
be warned. 

                         - d.o.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

All The President’s Lies


“Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.”   - John Adams

Mirrors turn you left to right when
the morning finds you wishing, when
the news is not in keeping with
the picture you have fixed firmly
to the surface, the false wall in the hall
the gold plated plaque in the back
of every idea that occurs to you
the news that argues with you too
is not true to you, out of your order
little dirty people cluttering up your
lobby dressed poorly and sorely in
need of punishment, replacement
a few words will do from you to
put them in their place, out of
your race, your face in the mirror
not quite right but certainly grand
and terribly in charge, you think.

Thursday, January 26, 2017

The Cabinet

This cabinet, it's come unhinged
it's come off the wall and
all it contains is spoiled
soiled and without usefulness
each and every remedy's
expired, dated as bloodletting
as wolfbane by windows or the
broken mirror we can
not see them in, the
contents being not content
with their directions for
use, the warnings are clear:
keep out of reach of children
children who will have to clean
up after them, after the doctor
wakes them and sends them
out into the troubled world
the bizarre, the flashing lights
and carnival screams. Close the
door, bar the door, place your
body against the door, and
the doctor? Put him away
as well.

                        - d.o. 1/27/17

Monday, January 23, 2017


Is your Big Government
bad as Big Oil or a 
big boy or big bully
pushing you into the locker
dark and confining where
all your whining echos back
bigly as your classmates 
pass by outside chattering
loudly about mindless text
or something red, white and
blue coming to you from
our sponsors or big orange
monsters bloviating bullshit
as brotherhood dwindles and
sisters are sequestered, confined
yet again by gold plated sin.
Big Oil trumps Big Government
or it is, big boys barely cognizant as
big pictures fall from the wall
you're still in the hall, in the
locker as the Doctor jiggles the
latch. Got a match?
Let's light this thing up
it's big and corrupt
break open the lockers
take out the stoppers
and get all abrupt, it's
what we do out here
we overcome fear.
             - d.o.  January 20, 2017

Monday, January 02, 2017

The New New Year Fear


Recall the Puritan progeny,
the god-blessed money tree?
Now all pretense of righteousness
gone up in smoke, emissions for
The Machine of very bad dreams.

The new calendar of your devices
says 2017, the scene is not serene
it's mean and it seems the angry fist
is shaking in your face otherwise, the
dark motorcade still passing bodies slumped
in even more doorways, under more
crumbling bridges, babies still in trash cans,
unnatural disasters mounting the screens
and he who would be king, gold plated,
phoney as a three dollar bill, fake and
on the take, holding court with the worst and
 your best interests in contempt, by the neck,
staked decks and a knockoff disaster sequel,
bloodful, dreadful, and yes, deplorable
spills off the screen into your scream.

Still the homeland shelters wait
only for the great and fate, but
we know where the hiding is,
we live out here after all
and for now.........we wait.

                             - d.o.  1/1/17

Saturday, November 14, 2015



We are not supposed
to take our lives
Right to Die
called suicide
but no problem
when the drilling starts
burning water, toxic air,
methane rising
and broken hearts.
It's for the Common Good
jobs and savings
regardless of your ravings
and, of course,
the doctor's call:
Your days are numbered.
No jobs and then......
that's all.