Capitalistic Drain

Bloody Footprints Sink In Sand

Ancient Stories Guts And Glory─

Grand Plans ─ Holy Lands.

Power In The Holes

Moon Surely Knows.

Plenty Of Feet Dream Of Peace

But Angry Birds Want The Last Word.

Sharp And Coarse

In That─

Choices Chopping Voice.

Awareness Rides

In Flames.

On An Never-Ending

Burning Plain.

Circling

That

Capitalistic Drain.

H.T. Manogue

Cries For Rain

Blood’s On The Road.

Thoughts Explode

Like Bombs For Peace

And

Screaming Dead Geese.

Lessons Old─

Anger Blows

And

Death Makes Us Crow

History Tells Us So.

Stuck On Repeat ─

Mind Skips Lots Of Beats─

Contentment Woes

Battled Weary Toes

What’s To Gain

When Love

Cries For Rain?

H.T. Manogue

Shortsleeves.net

Grandad’s Rusty Mental Truck.

Top Of The Line

Ego’s

Ready And Primed.

Tickle That Pride

Cause─

Sanity Tells Lies.

So─

Step On The Gas

Watch That Ass.

Point Of Power

Is Any Hour─

Proof Sits In You.

Ignorance Has Instant Glue.

Aliens Times Two

Religion Gulps A Few.

Politics Has The Fess-Up Flu

When─

Fear Rides A Saucer

Looking For

That Perfect Cup

In─

Grandad’s Rusty Mental Truck.

Shortsleeves Dot Net

H.T. Manogue

Half-Grown

Loud And Useless

What’s The Plan?

Changing Piers─

With Dominant Worldly Peers?

Democracy Is Like A Fall

Caught In An Epic Brawl

Because─

Beliefs Tie Slippery Knots.

They Try To Give You

Something They’re Not.

Right?

You Know─

Get Down On Them Knees

Bow To Nothing With Fleas.

Ants Like To Tease

When─

Stumps Are Trees

With Brown Leaves.

Yep─

Honesty Looks For A Home.

And Deceit Loves Life

Half-Grown.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Runny Nose

Listen To The Sound Of Air

When Human Thoughts

Turn Bare.

Or─

While Shaving Mental Hairs.

Drop A Positive Pin

In That Brainy Whim

And Look Deep Within.

Go─

Un-Dress Ego’s Frum

Have Some Inner Fun.

Cause─

Beliefs Flow Through

That Bubbling Brook

Your Mind Took.

Looking For─

An Aurati Glow Head To Toe.

So Remember─

Truth Never Erodes

From A Vocal

Runny Nose.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

“Frying Pan Of Gold”

Tax And Duck

Cut The Foul-Mouth Rug

From The Sinking Bug.

Creative Destruction Land Of Dysfunction.

Anything Goes When Laws Explode.

Wankers Agree

Flakes On The Bench

Dig A Deep Kiss-Ass Trench.

Lots Of Fears

In Home-Made Weird.

Never Too Soon When Anger Blooms ─

And Violence Grooms With Tell-Tale Prunes─

Soaked In Gloom.

Right─

Those Hand-Made Brooms

And Silver Spoons,

In Rank Streets Under Dirty Sheets

Eat─ Then Blink.

Freedom Has A Funny Stink.

In Any Kitchen Sink.

Best Be Bold

In A

Frying Pan Of Gold.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

The Dues

Spread The News─

Emperor Loves

Those Wing-Tip Shoes.

They Sparkle In Gritty Times—

Leave Nothing Behind

But The Dirty Shine

Of An Eroding Mind.

Every Phony Verb

Is A Hard Ball Curve

That Gives

That Bruised Cat

A Lying-Brain Attack.

It’s Like─

Riding Anger Laps

In A Bloody Field

Of Red, White, And Blue─

With Num-Nut-Laced

Truths.

While Hatred

Enjoys

The Dues.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net