There Shouldn't be a Law

What were law enforcers thinking

When they bought the watchman’s story?
Wasn’t something in it stinking?
Slender unarmed kid his quarry,
Shot to death with paid-for victuals,
Taking Dad, iced tea and Skittles?

Beyond the Limit

A car’s backfire gives me pause

While trying hard to catch my breath,
Though in a trice I know the cause
Should not instill a fear of death.
Not so for those in combat posts
Who’ve heard the sound turn friends to ghosts.

Six Million Counterarguments

Holier than any of us,
Rick Santorum, on the surface,
Stumps the states as if he wants to
Swell his Bible base to Jews who
Share an ideology that’s
Doomed to make Obama’s ersatz.

A Knick in Armor

He’s not a new phenomenon.

Old-fashioned, I would sooner say.
It’s teamwork he depends upon,
First thing, he looks to make a play,
Though drives and scores if left alone
Or swishes from the three-point zone.

Didn't She Almost Have it All

Although a medicine’s prescribed,
And not a drug dealt on the street,
It could be less safe if imbibed
By patients who their health mistreat
By taking it with alcohol,
Indifferent to what might befall.

Closing the Book on Camelot

The first time old enough to vote
I proudly checked off JFK,
Perhaps for his torpedo boat,
Though hero worship soon gave way
To awe for sending men in space
And slowing down the weapons race.