Pat Dollard

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Oh! THAT’s what he meant by “Hope” and “Change” …

Hope for change! My bad!

Can you tell which one(s) are Republicans?

Sitting on the park bench –
eyeing little girls with bad intent.

Snot is running down his nose –
greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Aqualung

Drying in the cold sun –
Watching as the frilly panties run.

Aqualung
Feeling like a dead duck –
spitting out pieces of his broken luck.
Whoa, aqualung

Sun streaking cold –
an old man wandering lonely.
Taking time
the only way he knows.

Leg hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end –
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet.

Feeling alone –
the army’s up the road
salvation a la mode and
a cup of tea.

Aqualung my friend –
don’t you start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it’s only me.

Do you still remember
The December’s foggy freeze –
when the ice that
clings on to your beard was
screaming agony.

And you snatch your rattling last breaths
with deep-sea-diver sounds,
and the flowers bloom like
madness in the spring.