Ah, are you digging on my grave,
My loved one -- planting rue?
I think my week of posting poetry in lieu of tongue lashings is finally coming to an end. I am reminded of my favorite joke:
What goes HA HA PLOP?
So, should I continue to post poetry that sustains me when I'm darkest or should I get out the scythe and sharpen my tongue?
Should I laugh my head off at the creeps in the Senate and the constituents they represent who wouldn't vote for the barest minimum in gun control laws, or should I sharpen my tongue and cry out against those who believe they have the right to protect their "liberty" and themselves from -- wait, exactly what? -- with a big ass gun, a collection of guns that they picked up at the local gun show in their godforsaken prairie town. I don't know about you, but I live in the second biggest city in the country, and I'm not particularly afraid. I don't foresee a need to protect my children with a big-ass gun from either a criminal or the government.
Should I laugh my head off at the fact that it'd be easier for me to go buy a big-ass gun and ammunition to protect me and mine from the government than it would be for me to purchase an affordable medication for my daughter with my private health insurance policy?
I just typed a comment on another blog about my own head this week, so heavy with the vile stuff that's happened, that I imagine it falling soundly off and not even bouncing.
Reader, is your head heavy and your tongue sharp?
***A man laughing his head off.