Heaven or Hell by Joseph Farley

God created drunk weekends foreshadowing eternity.

The wolves of wall street by Joseph Farley

The wolves wait in silence
For our tears to end.
“Stiff upper lip,” they whisper,
As we lament our wounds
And the memory of being beaten
And abandoned in the drainage ditch
On the side of the road.
“What is gone is gone,”
they remind us,
“The new way of business
while not as kind
is more efficient and practical.”
Their fangs are so kind
As they reassure us
Of the deepening night.
And what will come with it.

With A Raised Fist by Joseph Farley

My will cannot be broken,
at least not any more than it already is.
I have the strength of grape soda,
and nearly twice the fizz.
I shall rot your teeth and stain your clothing,
but I shall never yield.
I shall remain forever angry
and yelling at the moon.

the sure thing by Joseph Farley

the sure thing is
to throw down the pen,
toss away the legal pad
and pick up a book
by a poet
you know and admire,
one who has already
fought and died
in battle with words,
or lives on,
a wounded veteran,
if not proud,
accepting of his scars.

Getting Ahead by Joseph Farley

The ability of a person
To get on his knees
Or better on all fours
to deliver so many votes
Or dollars
To a political campaign
Should not be
The overriding factor
In getting
A political appointment
If the pimp candidate
Is elected.

How much easier it would be
To be a farmer shoveling dung
Than to be fated to wait upon
The beck and whim
Of a political whore
Appointed to office.