CONFESSIONS OF A MAD POET by Gerald Bosacker

By Gerald Bosacker

The wry and eccentric poetry of an historic poet, alive nowa days, annotated together with his twisted state of mind.

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Logic tells me otherwise, but greedy politicians and self anointed spokesmen for a vengeful God, have convinced all young men of the glory of death in battle. Not content with their young male pawns, now young women, too, can die for the motherland, fatherland, their God or a grateful Nation. Shame on them. WOMEN’S RIGHTS Now bold women can go to war. Which now means that you too can die. 43 just like each other soldier guy. is that what you have struggled for? CREATING CREATOR Be it never said, Religion is dead if someone believes.

Grits are not nutritionally blessed, they certainly don’t aesthetic appeal and they lack taste, good or bad. Why are they such an important part of otherwise delicious and nutritious, Southern cooking? I repeat, Don’t serve me grits! THE IDEAL PET A houseplant is a relaxed pet, they don=t make noise and never poop. Just give them sun and keep them wet, since they won=t ask, instead they droop and if they die when you forget, just hide their bodies in your soup. 59 DYING LEAVES... dancing in the wind, halt and rest in patchwork piles.

Your song, like hens, you clucked, to meek evade, the chopping block. BEHIND THESE WORDS: In all chicken coops of the world, crowing roosters die first, which is exactly opposite of what happens in the human world. The instigators of most conflicts are usually on the sidelines, safely watching those in combat. This seems grossly unfair. The heroes are often the protagonists dead, while the instigators pick up all the chips fought over. The combatants are all victims, not having cause to die, or a real prize to win.

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