Bartholomew Barker, Poet

If you haven’t voted yet, it’s time to do so. I’ll be heading to my polling place during my lunch break. You can read all about it at Oddball Magazine. They just published Blue Magick. Head over there and cast your social media spells.

Trickle Down

My boss’s boss lives a few floors above.
He’s a nice enough guy, we can talk sports
but he’s used to sitting in the skybox
while I’m in the cheap seats.

His boss lives in the penthouse
with an express elevator
to a private multicar garage
but I can tell when he’s home

because there’s a leak in his toilet
he won’t fix since he isn’t bothered
but the mess gets bigger the further it flows,
raining upon the poor and middle class alike.

There’s only one thing trickling down,
dear reader, and it ain’t money.

(Two weeks until Election Day. Vote early, if you can.)

To My Fellow White Men

We’re great, that’s undeniable,
we put ourselves on the moon,
kicked Hitler’s Nazi ass
and ran the English out of America.

But all those fine accomplishments
with flags and parades
were achieved by our grandfathers
and their grandfathers before them,
all the way back to Adam.

They built the pedestals
upon which we stand
but that’s not the American Way.
We should be building our own,
not clinging to Daddy.

And pissing on those still working
in the pits we dug for them is just lame.
We’re real men, not victims,
we don’t need to tear down
others to feel taller.

(Three weeks to Election Day!)

Once Upon A Time

A man could raise a family,
pay off a mortgage
and take a nice vacation
every year on a single salary.

That’s where I was raised,
that quaint country called America.
It wasn’t perfect, just ask the blacks,
homosexuals and secretaries,

but at least the rich paid more in taxes
than the poor and, while politicians
disagreed, we didn’t doubt their motives,
most of the time, only their methods.

But that was before democracy died
and truth was lost in the big money tide.

(Four weeks until Election Day.)