I think of my enemies like a toothache, bothersome yes, but sometimes they can be inspirational like a sharp stick in the eye or a joke that makes me rock and roll with laughter. Poetry is my medicine. Monday Poetry can be the stick or the joke. All depends.

*

If I were a tombstone,

I’d stand erect

atop your grave.

I’d mark your death

and bear your name,

chiseled deep

across my chest.

I’d wear your epitaph

like a black tattoo.

If I were a tombstone

my face would gleam

in a beam of sunlight.

I’d look at you

and feel nothing but stone.

*

If I were an onion

I’d get in your face.

I’d burn your heart

and spit in your eye.

If I were an onion,

I’d make you cry.

*

If I were a democrat

I ‘d be on drugs

like Abilify, Zyprexa

or Clozapine. I’d

promote schizoprenia.

I’d get in line

to get my jabs,

flu and otherwise.

I’d drink martinis

like Nancy Pelosi

and act real dumb

like AOC. If I were a democrat

I’d need Google

to inform me

of my gender.

I’d hail Zelensky

and honor the misled

like Alex Pretti,

Tyler Robinson

and Renee Nicole.

If I were a democrat

I’d be a puppet

for a protest.