LUNCH MONOLOGUE

by Harold Oberman

The A-1 China Super Buffet lacks knives
And we are no longer the leader of the free world.
I’m not sure what disturbs me more.
I imagine an incident at the buffet,
A butter knife attack long ago,
And the owners swearing off the utensil,
Or a loutish mule at the G-7 Summit
Bucking in invective, stamping his wingtips,
Flaring his nose, and bolting for Singapore.
Certainly, the butter knife attack I made up—
It’s probably a cultural thing, allowing forks
Instead of chopsticks is as far as they’ll bend—
But the leader of the former leader
Of the free world is somehow real
And we can’t take his knives away, not yet,
And he’ll be at the feed trough braying for his steak
Well-done, gums exposed, totally uninformed
That mules usually eat hay.

Harold Oberman is a lawyer and poet working and writing in Charleston, S.C.  Most Mondays he can be found at the A-1 China Super Buffet.

OPTIONS TO CONSIDER AFTER A TRUMP VICTORY

by David James

CREDIT: MATT / THE TELEGRAPH 

You can stumble
into your cave of despair and blame

half the electorate for their blind
ignorance; you can stick your head
in the sand and try to hide the shame

you feel for your country; you can live behind
four walls of silence and let the world implode

on itself.  Or you can gather your belongings
and move to Croatia or Singapore.
But it won’t change a thing. On the long road

to heaven, you’ll find lepers and hypocrites, almost anything
floating between paradise and hell.

The fact is, no election could ever save us.
No truth can be hidden for long.
No amount of rain can fill the old well

if the well’s dry as a bone. To live with disgust
is to admit defeat. To admit defeat is to lose

all hope. And to lose all hope it to give in
to darkness. Sorry, I can’t let that happen. I’ll stand here
in the light, work hard, and wait for the good news.

David James' third book My Torn Dance Card was a finalist in the 2016 Next Generation Indie book award. More than thirty of his one-act plays have been produced. He teaches at Oakland Community College.

SALLY SELLS WHAT SHE SELLS OFFSHORE

by Paul Smith






Sally sold seashells by the seashore
Now Sally sells tax shelters offshore
To shills
From Iceland to Russia to Singapore
To anyone who wants to get their foot
Out the door
Of wherever they are
Into an Octopus’s Garden
As snug and quiet as the ocean floor
Sally’s Pa’s from Panama
Sally’s Ma’s from Panama
Sally’s Pa and Ma from Panama
Showed Sally how she could
Dodge the law
And make an easy dollar
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Maritime bunco
Where the trade winds blow
But one unhappy sailor
Who was sore at Sally’s sharpies
Blew the whistle on her
I swear it’s true
Your Honor!
Now
Sally’s seeking shelter
She’s swimming helter-skelter
From the law of every country
With a seashore and a lawyer

Paul Smith lives near Chicago.  He writes fiction & poetry. He likes Hemingway, really likes Bukowski, the Rolling Stones, Beatles, Kinks and Slim Harpo. He can play James Jamerson's bass solo for 'Home Cookin' by Junior Walker & the Allstars.