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Have a New Year

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A poetic wish for 2009

May this new year that’s upon us be better than the last.

May it give us all some happiness and not fly on by so fast.

May it give us time to understand why we are what we is.

Why some still act like monkeys and others seem more like griz.

May the new year that’s ahead of us be nicer than the prophecies

that’re bein’ spawned primarily through administrative profitsies.

My wish is things’ll be all right, we’ll all be able to sleep at night

knowin’ fer certain this ain’t the final curtain on our social faculties.

Like Greece and Rome, the way they came undone through avarice and corruption,

we’ve been spendin’ our strength, breadth and length, with in-yer-face consumption.

Throw in the mix great congressional tricks and a heap of lawyers’ litigatin’s

to bleed us hicks using backside pricks and various other irritatin’s.

Sooner or later we’ll see the light in an unambiguous way.

I hope that waitin’ ‘til the eleventh hour ain’t too late to save the day.

Our potential is so much bigger than carrying on like this.

We’re a bright young nation with a great imagination and that I sorely miss.

May this new year be an awakening of our social consciousness

where we pull up our pants before we don’t have a chance to clean up this craziness

of overpaid buttholes makin’ big potholes in our economic streets

and the likes of thoughtful governors tryin’ to sell of senate seats.

I don’t know how to handle it, I’ve lost my sense of humor

by the prospects that my future lit just might get a whole lot gloomer.

Somewhere’s down inside my head, though reside some funny stories.

Of late instead it’s been buried in dread, worried the world’s ‘bout to replay the forties.

Well I don’t know, I’ll give it a go like a lawnmower that’s been sittin.’

Moons have gone by since I let one fly; too serious have I written.

I still have room to change my tune, I’m only halfway down the page.

Twenty-nine more lines, I’ll do just fine if I don’t think of some other outrage.

May the new year that just stepped in help keep us grinnin’ again and again

with unfailing cold engine starts, totally inaudible farts and happy wherever you’ve been.

May it also provide you a helping hand or a chance to pay one forwards

to some poor slob who’s lost his job because of some thoughtless turds.

There I go again, because my head knows where it’s been.

I’ve gotta cut loose, my mood’s in a noose, anger’s teeth are in my skin.

Release those jaws and knots from around my happy thoughts;

get flippant on paper about life in a vapor and tryin’ to connect all the dots.

Happy New Year to all who read this, may it provide you all that you miss.

If it’s a job that’s been lost or inadvertantly tossed, I hope that you get yer wish.

May our retirement funds be in order with sound investments inside our border

to preserve what we have while we learn to behave in this surprising new world order.

Some good news would be a treat, one we seldom have the pleasure to eat

‘cause they send it down river with yesterday’s dinner as it just can’t seem to compete.

Just phony hopes for us average dopes who’ve discovered some new world derangements.

By using new tropes, ifs, maybes and nopes, it’s entertainment by way of arraignment.

If you can’t refrain from pullin’ a blunder and becoming some shyster’s plunder;

at least let the weather be kind on you and yer hind when gravity pulls you asunder.

May you always have plenty to wear, no crosses too heavy to bear.

May the future that’s in us be not again’ us and happiness not be so rare.

No holes in the roads, a return of the toads and a long and mild summer

with friendly yeller-jackets, and healthy income brackets, whether native or newcomer.

Rainbows in paradise, no more head lice and the unconditional surrender

of all the bad guys to the Feds and the big buttheads who like to ride my rear fender!

Have a good’n!

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Author info

Scott Clawson Scott Clawson No, he's not the electrician, he's the OTHER Scott Clawson, who's a quality builder when he's not busy busting a gut while writing his humor column for the first issue of each month, or drawing his Acres n' Pains cartoons.

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