The Laureate-War

War has changed, and yet, has not...

no longer a game of chess to plot.

Now faced with a world of moves to weigh

keep arms in close, riposte...then swat.

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The Laureate-Pachyderms and Donkeys

I’m no longer Red or Blue,

but Independent through and through.

No longer will I money send

to those who do but half-truths spew.

(and fill my days with naught but pooh.)

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The Laureate-Tucson Drought...it's not just water.

I’ve lived in Tucson twenty years,

and all that time home marketeers

hold in contempt the drought...

while pols just sit there on their rears.

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The Laureate-The Recess

Now you can leave, return to home...

no longer stay in pleasure’s dome.

Yet, bills you passed are awful...

and leave us not but offal.

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The Laureate-Ig Nobel Prize

An award for nasal pork

should be sent to the Hill.

For pols alone would funds uncork

for tests that matter nil.

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The Laureate-Scotland's Vote

For centuries the Scots have fought

the Brits to claim autonomy.

With chance now nigh, there’s some that cry

such act would stress the harmony.

Their quandary should be clear,

a vote can end their misery...

or passions, once so dear,

just fade away in history.

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The Laureate-The Decision

Our top court said, buyers beware,

their caveat emptor warns that you prepare.

For pols can sell with lies from hell...

and oft their wares just taint the air.

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