An Ode to 2022

I was asked to bring a poem to a New Year's Eve dinner party. So I wrote one

Can a year end in hope after such loss?

‘Twas not only markets in toilets tossed

A woman’s right to choose denied in June

By six in black howling a rightwing tune.

The price of goods rose up, beyond reason.

The Jay Powell response? Econ treason.

As rates soared high, stocks and bonds did tank.

Future greeters, you’ll have Walmart to thank.

Amid great fears of democracy o’erturning

Emptied our purses to fight midterm churning.

Warnock, Cortez, Kelly, Fetterman won.

Alas, Pelosi’s last hurrah undone

By New York’s inexplicable losses

Including one to a man named Santos

Whose lies are like he who shall not be named

Their resumes shriek they cannot be shamed.

Speaking of shame, how about Elon Musk?

Paid forty four large for a total bust.

Though he now controls what’s said on Twitter

He’s made most users extremely bitter.

When it comes to evil in politics

No one can match Abbott and DeSantis.

Sent desp’rate migrants to distant cities

Revealing two states without pity.

After two years of investigation

The House Committee’s recommendation

Now goes to Merrick Garland’s D. O. J.

Will indictments ever see the light of day?

Speaking of folks living in infamy

The media refuses to ignore Ye.

I don’t want to know, if I had my druthers,

That Hitler and Kanye are now soul brothers.

I’ll say just one thing ‘bout my subject health.

In a nation that’s number one in wealth,

Covid this year claimed its one millionth life

Proving once more the cost of social strife.

No masks, a third of the nation unvaxed,

No cash for PPE, the rich untaxed.

Hundreds of deaths daily, Fauci opined,

Greater than guns, drugs and car deaths combined.

Perhaps it’s because most were old and gray

That rightwing goofballs had so much to say.

A hoax, the shot harms, take Ivermectin.

From the Fox-led, what were you expectin’?

The left, meanwhile, is ruled by speech police

Making old ones want to pack a valise

And head for warmer climes for longer stays

To ponder whether we’re he’s, she’s or they’s.

But enough of the past. What of the future?

Will Twenty Twenty Three bring us succor?

D.C. events are beyond our control

So let’s make happiness and joy our goal.

Spend more time with loved ones and friends, of course,

And more of the things that are pleasure’s source.

For us, ‘tis theater, the plays much ado  

Tough to beat this year, we saw twenty-two.

As for personal goals, I have but one

Comes from my thrice-weekly walks in the sun.

Shot seventy three, Jackson Park the stage

May this be the year when I shoot my age.

I wish all my readers a very happy new year, and send my sincerest condolences to all the Michigan fans in my family.