Stanley Cooper Poems

With his ostrich head down in the sand
His worldly view is less than bland
He’s sanded down with ostrich flair
So we assume he’s happy there
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What we learn empirically throughout our many years
It starts when we are youngsters, wet behind the ears
Those many things experienced that were so fondly tasted
Alas, we find with memory loss, much of it’s been wasted
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If I could write like Porter
Cole’s the guy I mean
Then my son and daughter
Would think my poems more keen
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If someone aberrational
Becomes too confrontational
While overly gregarious
He may be quite nefarious
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My darling mother had no clue
She never ever really knew
Why I always feigned a fever
Before our visits to Aunt Eva
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I don’t have a drink affliction
Never been cursed with a smoke addiction
But must confess to one worse by far
I can’t resist a chocolate bar
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The Economy
Wall Street Bank Failures
Home Foreclosures Price Of Gas
Recession Inflation
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Too many youngsters believe they can never belong
‘Cause some inept teacher assured them they’re always wrong
Brainwashed, they’ve been cast in the permanent role
Of the large square peg that can’t fit in the little round hole
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When some guy knows he’s oh so clever
Clever is what he’s never ever
He who thinks he’s never wrong
Has ignored reality far too long
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There are some, in this Presidential Campaign
Whom I won’t mention here by name
Their campaign methods deserve wide rejection
Appearing to be what they’re not, to win this election
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