Narcissistic Tweets of a bloviating Sociopath

— Charles Albert

What can you say
to those who still approve of
the bloviating sociopath?

It won’t get through:
they’re protected from
the fake news
by a wall
of alternative facts

Don’t sharpen your claws on
their obtuseness.
Anyone who still believes
his narcissistic tweets
is past the reach of wit.

 

Your Obituary

— Charles Albert

If you haven’t already composed
one for yourself, mentally,
on the way to someone else’s funeral,
how does this one suit you?

“Passed into eternal rest three days ago,
beloved friend, mentor, sibling, teammate–
or whatever it was, exactly, you were trying for.
We feel the loss in our hearts.
You were a private person, forced into
a more public life than you wanted.
At least that’s what your
lack of style in clothes and haircut implied.

A person of unrealized potential
and missed opportunities–
and we won’t go into your annoying habits,
until the reception
at which, we should add, there will only be a cash bar,
in the spirit of some secret knowledge
of the cheapskate you really were.”

 

Christmas Eve

— Charles Albert

Surviving five long weeks of hype
that reached their pinnacle tonight,
and not just in the malls and shops,
but in the nerves of our three tots

who took so long to get to sleep,
we’ve spread the load beneath the tree.
The plate of cookies has been left,
a sooty footprint on the hearth.
It always feels so fleeting, lacking–
tomorrow’s flurry of unwrapping,
the chocolate binge, the first new quarrel,
the newness of each toy, that dwindles.

We sit beneath the winking lights,
in the transience of these nights,
and know, one day, we’ll be alone.
They’ll soon enough be gone and grown.

Like our own folks when we were small,
if we give any gift at all,
it’s some dim memory of this time:
something magic. And sublime.

Consume, Consume

— Charles Albert

(Apologies to Frost)

The watch that came (the Teuer Hag)
is stunning with a Pravda bag
and why not in a brand-new Jag?

Or, if you must, buy Coach and Ford
so long as you will heed the word:
the market is a two-edged sword.

When money idles in the bank
the GDP will surely tank;–
you’ll only have yourself to thank,

your I.R.A. not worth a damn–
a pyramid, a Madoff scam–
unless you spend for Uncle Sam!

So be the smartest in the room
and stimulate a mini boom
with pricey bling. Consume, consume!