HIGH SOCIETY

                    One, two, three; one, two, three,
                        Turn round the floor
                    Forward and backward
                        With one you adore.

                    It’s Saturday dancing school
                       Where you shall meet
                    Someone whose status
                       Is of the elite.

                   Here’s where you’ll polish
                     Your manners and moves
                   Learning to travel
                      In upper-class grooves.

                   Waltz with Matilda
                      Or Deborah Jane;
                   Fox trot with Sally
                      Then slow dance Elaine.

                   But remember to stay
                       On the right side of town—
                   Don’t cross over the tracks
                       Lest your parents should frown.

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PUNCTILLIOUS

 Your grammar and your punctuation should,
 Along with spelling, syntax, usage, too,
 Be more than passable—be very good
 Before you graduate and then pursue
 Some suitable career or further schooling
 Because, though high school should have done that
     for you,
 It’s college where you get your last re-tooling,
 And if you don’t, employers will ignore you.
 Therefore, be thankful that I’m so demanding
 And labor to find out your every error:
 I want to help you reach the highest standing
 And face your tasks with confidence, not terror.
      If for no other reason, then, decide
      To master all these skills because of pride.

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PLAIN JANE

            There once was a girl we called “Jane”
            Because she was wretchedly plain.
                      Then to our surprise
                      She won Nobel’s Prize—
            It turned out she’d a beautiful brain.

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JUDGMENT DAY

   There’ll come a time when you can comprehend
   How precious is this only life of ours,
   When you're no longer able to pretend
   That you'll retain and relish all your powers,

   For swift or slow, your destined end will come
   To undermine your optimistic dreams
   And urge you to enumerate the sum
   Of goodness in your mortal deeds and schemes.

   Prepare now for what late or soon befalls
   All mortal beings and avoid dismay
   While rendering your account when Peter calls,
   And justify yourself on Judgment Day.

        Or if that story does not now ring true,
        There’s still yourself who’ll be the judge of you.

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CAREFUL

                    How curious that a caretaker
                        Turns out to be the same
                    As someone who’s a caregiver
                        Though opposite in name.

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BEYOND DARWIN

    Since Darwin at the least, or long before,
    Survival of the fittest seemed the way
    That Nature led inevitably to war:
    Conflict and competition ruled the day.

    And thus implicitly we’re taught to beat
    Out rivals in our struggle to the top
    Because we’re either eaten or we eat,
    No other way: this carnage cannot stop.

    Or is there a humane alternative,
    A further step on evolution’s path
    By which to live and also to let live,
    A way of peace and concord, not of wrath?

         Cooperation is the road less taken,
         That way by which the sane and wise awaken.

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AVAUNT!

          Inside my head a song I’ve listened to
          Too many times keeps playing on and on—
          It’s now become a meme I can’t undo,
          A new Beguine begun that won’t begone.







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