Monday, December 8, 2014

Why Grandma Shot the Preacher-Man

I wrote this poem several years ago to counter the so-called religious healers.  One would think their scams would fade away in light of our increased scientific knowledge.  But that is not the case, they are still out there, on radio and TV, making their pleas for money and promising they can heal just about anyone of anything.

They can't.  They are crooks, charlatans, scam artists!

Grandma is a pistol-packin'
Mama of a type
She doesn't like phony folks
Despises all their hype.
Mealy-mouthed, shifty-eyed
Characters she spurns
She's been down that road before and
She's been badly burned.

It started on a cloudless day
She met herself a man
He was tall and neatly dressed
Said his name was Sam.
He took Grandma dancing
Almost ev'ry night
She concluded way too soon
That he was Mr. Right.

But love hit Grandma big time
When Sam learned Grandma's secret
See, Grandma had a wooden leg
She hid with maxi skirts.
Now Sam, he said he didn't mind
Told her she was fine
She hugged him with her bony frame
Several hundred times.

Alas, alack, Grandma's back
Gave out one crazy night
She screamed and cried and poor ol' Sam
Damn near died of fright!
Ol' Doc Watson said she'd prob'ly
Never walk again
Without a cane or lots of help
From someone name of Sam.

Solicitous and very sweet
Sam told Grandma 'bout his friend
A preacher-man, blessed by God
Why he could cast out sin.
And more than that, he could heal
Broken backs and bones
'Course it wasn't cheap, you know
He'd help Grandma get a loan.

"Come on," said Sam, "let's hear the man
"His tent's just out of town
"Bring your checkbook just in case
"He's got your healing' down."
Ol' Grandma was a little skeered
But hurt, she went along
In fact, she ended up on stage
Before the final song.

The preacher-man grabbed her head
With great big woolly paws
He saw the devil in her eyes
Said that was sure the cause
Then he bent and whispered soft
Hands tight around her neck
"I can make you well again
"Just write a little check."

Grandma barely breathing now
Cried rasply, "I...yi...yi!"
The preacher-man yelled "Hallelujah!"
A glint in gleaming eyes.
But Grandma learned very fast
The whole thing was a farce
'Cause when the preacher-man cried "Heal!"
She fell upon her arse!

The jury ruled it self-defense
Said any fool could see
The preacher-man and Sam were bad
And it was meant to be.
Grandma caught and shot them both
When they was slipping out of town
And if they try that scam again
They'll do it sitting down!

© 2014 and 2006 by Lowell A. Anderson (Ansohn).  All Rights Reserved.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Anesthetic Anesthesia

[This is for Heather]

Anesthetic Anesthesia

A friend of mine
Cannot spell
She's been confused
By a spell
Of amnesia.

It's really quite

I, sad to say,
Cannot spell
When someone asked
Where does that
Leave ya?

I said

[Copyright © 2014 and 2006 by Lowell A. Anderson]

Monday, April 28, 2014

The Candidate - Flashback to 2012

I was not born with 
A silver spoon
He said
Eyes glinting
As a creeping 
Smile slid
Across his political

We lived in a 
Basement apartment
Like regular folks
She said
Stepping out of a
60s sitcom
All fluffy and 
Full of lace
As is right
For a woman 
Who knows
Her place.

They said
We had to live
On returns from
It was hard
We even got
Regular haircuts
And ate at McDonalds'
Unless daddy and mommy
Took us out
Or gave us money
For the rent.

So, we know all about
You poor folks
Struggling to
Pay the bills
And feed the kids
With college ahead
We suggest you
Get money from 
Your folks and
Live in a tent.

And when you 
Get old
Become a Mormon
Mormons take care
Of one another
By piling up money
And stowing it
Away for a 
Rainy day
And Mormons 
Don't need 
No government.

Copyright © 2014 by Jacob Avram/Lowell A. Anderson
All rights reserved