Ted Sheridan Poems

Who threw me this fuc*ing football?
Expecting me to kick the sh*t out of it and then run
Where are those drunken buggers?
That placed a series of bets on me
...

I witnessed first hand…
The look he had in his failing eyes as life slipped away without a sound
Acknowledging that death had not only knocked twice but also rang the bell
My ears concentrating on the sounds of war not death
...

Sitting at the kitchen table early this morning
He couldn’t remember when he first felt like he wanted to die
The thought of death had crept into his thoughts over the past few years
And like a hungry cockroach hiding under his fridge
...

A first and then a second dollop of warm and delightful
spiced rum, swallowed from a shot glass and poured
down the chute, with only a modicum of inspiration
as a chaser; provided him the counterfeit courage
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The Obama Nation
Pink T Shirt wearing, Metro Sexual, Vegan eating,
P.E.T.A. blood soaked fur coat marked with an H
for homeless, Pornography minded,
...

With the costly stain of blood on my mercenary soul
I prayed for God to release me from our contract.
I no longer wished to participate in the death of a people
who were too ignorant to comprehend past discrepancies
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We are the thinking man
We have learned our right shoe
from that of our left; the jacket
buttons in front with the label in back.
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It's Saturday Night Live.....

I mean come on. It’s Chicago’s South side.
Admittedly, there is no evidence of that,
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Dreamland was about to become very nightmarish
In as much as the car in which we all were riding
Exceeded the careful demands of a sharp and winding curve
Thereby breaching the protective guardrail and plunging off the cliff
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Hamartia is an umbrella
It covers the head of the snake
A snake that bites the hand that feeds it
A snake by any name
...