Acolyte

The Acolyte

 
Incredibly, Shea has his acolytes.
Amongst these is the twerp Scott Eric Alt.
With all his soul, he labors to exalt
Obese Mark Shea to superhuman heights.
This altitude, according to Alt’s lights,
Is right and proper. Shea is free from fault.
If you presume to question, Alt shouts: “Halt!
Moist dreams of Shea’s perfection fill my nights!”
With all his soul, I said – and that is true.
But Alt’s applying all his strength as well.
Given Shea’s idol status, Alt can do
No less: he’s under Shea’s Svengali spell.
To budge Shea’s weight, though, Alt would need a crew
Of heroes – so his master sinks to Hell.

 
–Tom Riley

Mind-Body Problem

The Mind-Body Problem

 

Yes, your headache
has ceased, but now your
stomach is rebelling.

 

–Tom Riley

Wilde Thing

Wilde Thing

 
As sacrifice to deep hypocrisy,
You revealed features no one wished to view.
With wit the witless never dare agree.
As sacrifice to deep hypocrisy,
You granted imbeciles no victory
At last. Today we’re all regarding you
As sacrifice to deep hypocrisy.
You revealed features no one wished to view.

 
–Tom Riley

 

Basement Encounter with a Middle Finger

Basement Encounter with a Middle Finger

 
“Mommy! Joe’s feeling hot! Wants to fuck!”
Dr. Jill hears the doddering cuck—
But she knows that his tool
Is rag-limp as a rule.
So she offers her finger to suck.

 
–Tom Riley

 

(If you enjoyed this gentle and affectionate satirical piece about Bad Touch Biden, you’ll love The Ghost of Biden’s Brain!)

Happy Prince

Happy Prince

 

The furnace couldn’t melt your leaden heart.
You found salvation in destruction, right?
I knew you’d go to Heaven from the start

Of the tale that was charged with high, wild art.
Behind the darkness, Prince, there must be light.
The furnace couldn’t melt your leaden heart.

Avian loyalty proved swift, not smart.
God looks down safely from his scatheless height.
I knew you’d go to Heaven from the start.

Following your demise, you played a part
In which your immobility took flight.
The furnace couldn’t melt your leaden heart.

Who whipped the horse misplaced behind the cart?
Who prayed for day and cursed the blessed night?
I knew you’d go to Heaven from the start.

I longed for no surprise where swallows dart
And statues understand our human plight.
The furnace couldn’t melt your leaden heart.
I knew you’d go to Heaven from the start.

 

–Tom Riley

 

 

(Illustration by Walter Crane.)

Fitting In

Fitting In

 
“I told you, I told you, I told you
I was one of those.”

 

–Leonard Cohen

 
White, from a
box, my mask’s even plainer
than my face.

 
–Tom Riley

Philosophically Speaking

Philosophically Speaking

 
Philosophically speaking, it’s vain,
All this strife of my heart and my brain.
I should wish to be still
And of unattached will.
I should simply ignore all this pain.

 
–Tom Riley

Love Justice

Love Justice

 
Mercy’s in style, but I love justice better.
Rain down your indignation on us all,
O Lord! We’re every one of us your debtor.
Mercy’s in style – but I love justice better.
The proper spirit does enforce the letter.
Lightning is beautiful, though it appall.
Mercy’s in style, but I love justice better.
Rain down your indignation on us all!

 
–Tom Riley

Optimists

Optimists

 
“Don’t worry: things
always get better!” they’ll repeat
even in Hell.

 
–Tom Riley

Dubious Procedure

Dubious Procedure

 
When in doubt, I write verses. Indeed,
I write verses that no one will read.
Earth’s foundations may shake
As this gesture I make.
This I know. Nonetheless, I proceed.

 
–Tom Riley