Stone Soup came back last night. I was still tired from my recent traveling, so there was little fanfare or even announcement, but we still had a good audience. I'm grateful.
My piece is a little lighter than usual (for me anyway). Blame Chris Fitzgerald's historical/pop cultural references. I just went with it.
I've been monitoring various fake news/conspiracy sites, as can be seen by my ongoing work. By sheer coincidence, after I jotted down my notes for this week's poem, Nancy Messom, a regular who has heard my recent work, gave me this:
Something was in the air last night, that's for sure. Thanks for reading.
Conspiracy Theory
Marlon Brando, in an attempt
to method act his way
to another Oscar, coal mined
for a month, enough to get
black lung disease. He died
next to Fred Phelps, who went
undercover as his idea
of a gay man, took a road trip
offering disease to anyone
who was up for it.
With no takers, he was left
bed ridden with a broken heart,
trying to make Brando laugh
with outbursts like,
I must be PMSing again honey,
not getting that it didn't mesh
with his failed cover.
In the next room was Abraham
Lincoln, kept on life support
until he could be replaced
by another Republican president
with relatively few problems.
And yes, this was after Reagan
passed away in the eighties,
ahead of his body, which would
take a following flight decades later.
They were all being looked after
by Trump, who, like his name,
has the power to be in all places
at all times. He kept them all
on suicide watch, does the same
for the world as president,
but an unofficial source
says it's really for him.
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| Jack Powers used to write poems on electric bills. In tribute, I wrote this on an old bank statement. |
Special thanks to Chris Fitzgerald, David Miller, Jan Rowe, Krystal, Bil Lewis, Erik Nelson, Nancy Messom, Vincente Brothers, Julia Vogel and James Van Looy.
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