On slander, libel, and other lesser sins of the tongue.

Adrenaline taints the flavor of deer--
you can taste the animal's fear in the meat
if it ran too long, if it panicked.

"If it bleeds, we can kill it,"
sayeth the wise Governor of Cal-ee-for-nee-ya
in one of his best roles to date
but no one ever mentions
that they test jet engines
by throwing chickens through the turbines
to make sure they won't explode
if they encounter a flock of geese.
No, not if;
when.

Lion tamers and matadors
don't lose it gradually
like the rest of us suckers.
When they fail they die
and labor is induced somewhere
to spew the next phenomenon.

Meanwhile in the nosebleed seats
it's baseball bats vs. machetes
in a gang battle royale
with us taxpayers funding
the casts, slings, and reattached limbs
of the aftermath yet again

so Brother, you're just as nuts
as those who write prayers
on twenty-dollar bills
trying to save my soul.