Back, long years ago, John Britain, welcomed me to
his home town,
This new friend was the most honest, Christian, race-
blind man I'd ever found:
 Family Doc, tither, spent "vacations" doing charity,
in practice, kept his own fees down,
Sang in his church choir, flew in Air Patrol for lost
boaters at sundown,
Served in Rotary, Scouts, charities, lately got elected to county school board.
The board faced deadlines--to obey those Civil RIghts
that red-necks so abhored,
Postponed, side-tracked, by the last Superintendent
and cronies on the last Board,
Who, clung to out-dated ways, insisting that the new
Law could be ignored.
Despite President Kennedy, his brother Bob, this bill
for rights had been stalled,
Until, LBJ, with Republican help, out-foxed a Democrat cabal.
Yet, die-hards, here and there, claimed integration
laws were still optional.
Action by John's board here, encountered a hate
quite irrational.
The new Board recruited, hired a young Black in
compliance with the new Laws passed:
Closed all-Black schools, then blended kids, for some,
it was too much, too fast.
Doc, the Super, the new Black official were all grimly
Back then, to get a Black school official clearly had
left some folks aghast.
All three got nocturnal threats of death, sometimes,
just heavy breathing.
Super's wife died, a suicide, upset by hate and the
unrest seething.
Doc, in charge, gaveled down rowdy crowds at the
next Board meeting,
Faced down those angry at Martin Luther King's dream alive, bequeathing.
Years later, when I came, Doc asked,"Please, come
out to Heaven's Acres, if you can,
See what you can do for my dear friend, a once-promising young Black man.
Before you came, the Board assigned him to an Acres
school he ran."
On our drive, he pieced the parts together, just what
had happened to this man.
I learned the paitent's state was a result of race-hate,
redneck feeling,
His appointment, a legal action, set backwoods, small
spiteful mind reeling.
Doc suspected an alleged racist scheme some locals
had been concealing:
A late night, roadside ambush, from which there'd be
no appealing.
Tipped off to an up-state meeting this educator would
be attending,
They amushed his car during night, and dealt out a
beating beyond my comprehending.
The Black man's wife, called John, when her husband's brief trip became unending.
John tracked the route, found him in an all-Black clinic
his state was heart-rending.
Now, at home, this once strong man, could not see any light, even when I'd amplify
The beam, and gently, directly to each globe my best
light apply.
His corneas were white, scarred like ones I'd seen
that had been splashed with lye,
Found low pressures, likely due to old, total retinal
detachments in each eye.
I palpated his once-handsome face, felt his crushed
cheekbones' eminence,
Flat, crooked nose, each a testament to his horrible
That left him battered, almost toothless.  No treatment
here, for his blind dependence,
A martyr's face, just one stark, sad record of hate,
vengeance and intransigence.


A young Muslim couple both left home,
Leaving betrothed and kin alone,
To wed, in Karachi's coastal zone.
Her Um called, "Please don't roam!"
Ukht, then added, "You're forgiven,
Found eloping's not forbidden."
But, their men lied,"Honor" driven,
Bided time, vowed no mercy given.
Once couple came back to Multown,
Ab, uncles tore off her wedding gown,
Then, bride's sweet flesh in life wire bound.
Death came with screams, crackling sound.

(Um=mother, Ukht=sister, Ab=father)

           THE SMART GIRL

Intelligent, in Kabul was raised,
Her first teacher there set ablaze.
But, her family's courage was unfazed,
Girl's private tutor then arranged.
She learned math, science, English, too,
Aimed for college where girls were few,
Then, an M.D. degree pursue.
Ambitious girl, just had no clue.
Now, in darkness, the smart girl cries.
Two Taliban, so wicked, and so sly,
Learned of her dream. Then, biking by,
Squirted acid into each eye.


Her parents gave her to a local man,
Arranged marriage in Afghanistan.
But, when blows and rapes, after rites began,
BiBi got no help, so, one night, she ran
Through cold, dark, rocky hills, she fled, sweat soaked.
No bed, nor food could the poor girl evoke,
All feared her angry husband they'd provoke,
Where faith lets only men, their vows revoke.
"Honor" at stake, he was quite bellicose,
Tracked her down, beat her, sliced off her nose,
Cut off each ear as bloody fountains rose,
His perverted manly honor was imposed.


She was an angel from above, a daughter any
man would love, Her name, in Arabic, was "Dove."
Sweet Dove blossomed more, a cherub most Dads protect, adore.  No hint then, what the future had in store.
Older sister, was once like her, now quiet, from
home never stirred, Dove heard Ab boasting,
"Now Ukht is pure."
After Ab took Ukht, Dove construed, on a drive
when time came due, there something happened it was true.
Since, Ukht was silent, moist-eyed,glum, quit
playing games, no longer fun, No longer was the cheeful one.
Dove puzzled, but, she feared to ask..Sister's
face, a dreary, pale mask, Dragging through
each daily taskl
Left alone, Dove's mind would roam.  Age 8
felt empty, bored with home, those nightly poems from a leather tome.
Nine, she begged Ab,"Send me to school, or
you teach reading, I'm no fool." But, Ab turned grim, "That is not our rule!"
Instead, he whispered to his wives.  Next day,
Ab took Dove on a drive, said, "Dove, honor me, give me pride."
At the place, women took her hands, in a courtyard stretched her on hot sands, Spread
her legs wide with leather bands.
Dove felt strange prying touch, then screamed in terror, "It hurts so much!"  Felt cutting, then a
final crunch.
Struggled, then felt something painted, and in
shock, she blacked out, fainted. Awoke so sore,
her soul tainted.
On ride home, rags stuffed twixt smooth young thighs, crimson seeping, blurred, wet, red eyes,
At last, understood poor Ukht's sighs.
To sick bed, wives, aunts, sister came, all hugged, and cried, now all the same, Each one
"cut" to prevent family shame.


A brave and vocal girl, just fourteen years old,
Was judged by dour Mullahs, too obscene and bold.
For her blogs filled with vile truths that she told,
What those crazies, around the world planned to unfold.
In her own Swat valley, a part of Pakistan,
She saw savage nature of the Taliban,
Whippings, beheadings, other acts barbarian,
By those finding misogyny in their Koran.
Was a mere girl, so dangerous, and obscene?
She wants girls' schools to be a right, routine!
Says female jobs, careers are not too
Wise, young Malala, whose own life was pristine.
Fatwah'd, shot by thugs, who like their brides


In Pakistan's Karachi and Peshawar,
So torn by hate, long sadistic Jihad war,
Crazed Taliban view vaccines as Satan's spore,
In some mosques, giving kid their shots caused
huge uproars,
And Fatwahs given to squads of killers there.
Against unarmed doctors, aides was hardly fair.
Young girls had come, hoping to end Polio's despair,
Instead, met death. Cordite, blood clots in their hair.
Disease, poverty beset this cursed region,
No school, no careers for women, girl-bride coition,
Shariah enslaves, stamps out most ambition,
Five times a day, Mullah's endless repetition.
Mahida, one of many girl workers slain,
Still, a lovely maid, with bullets in her brain,
In news photo, held by her mother deep in pain,
Her killers, by their view of religion made insane.

               jULY 4TH JIHAD 20??

Abdul walked in wonder through the Apex Mall,
Aptly named, the newest, biggest one of all.
He went to center target, a confection stall,
Sat down, with his backpack to wait his Mullah's call.
Bright colors, shops, sights, food smells,soft music's sound,
Cute girls in tight shorts, thin shirts wandering around.
All sorts of goods, food, clothing, ittems could be found.
This day of July, a date throught the globe reknowned.
Um and Ab, back home, will justly be so proud,
And well compensated, their cleric vowed,
Once he and fellow Holy Warriors allowed,
Jihad's painful, deadly, atomic thundercloud.
Abdul eyed nearby pubescent girsl.  With certainty,
He'd soon select some for his own sweet seventy.
Tonight, his face, in lush, blond, fragrant curls would be,
In revelry, with his gift virgins for Eternity.
Now, aroused, he clicked the bomb's trigger to
Said his last prayer to the one true Prophet,
Heard chimes from the cell phone sewed in his
shirt pocket...
Bright flames, white clouds billowed high, as the land, for miles, rocked.
Foolish apologists had crowed, "No danger here,"
Ignored wars, attacks, verses, fatwahs all so clear.
Last order to the faithful,"Slaughter, inflict pain
and fear,
Make this world a Caliphate, or one smoking


He'd fled. Left his taxi in mid-town,
Its motor running, key still in the lock,
On the back seat, two young women down,
While the cabby hid out at city dock.
Police found the girls, both head-shot dead,
One cell phone with 911 still on,
Dispatch staff heard shots, screams of dread.
First cop on grim scene, yelled,"Shooter's gone."
Gore covered angelic faces.
Later, school said both girls were good students,
Asked, just who'd slaughter sibling graces,
Each widely known as proper, prudent?
Proud Imam gave the shooter a Holy Book,
Kissed him, hid him in a produce truck.
Cousins brought some food,cash which he took.
All prayed, he'd soon be far at sea, with luck.
Now, far from his adopted nation,
He's a big hero, widely lauded,
For slaughter of his own best creations.
Smugly, smiles when the most devout applaud.
"Honor killing," the cops determined,
From the last sister screams, "Please, father, no!"
Their great sin, dated non-Muslim men,
One more horror, where fanatics go.


  Lucky 'Frisco, warned of local gangs in time,
(Flash mobs, beatings) closed phone service
on the subway line.
But, in London, leaders lacked clues of any kind
Had 4 day riots, Hell, by mainly White delinquent swine,
Fruits of failed progressive, progressive programs,
Organized on line, using subway diagrams,
Then, massed, for looting, beatings with
"Protest!" as their sham.
Masked, hoodied hoodlums stole, set fires, and
A Dad saw his nice daughter, on TV, throw
bricks at a loaded tram,
Join masked thugs break shop doors with a
battering ram,
Shove into garbage bags, all the loot that they
could cram.
Spoiled brats did the same, more towns, even
In Socialist England, one can be on the dole for
Leave first job, then endless benefits make
idlers rife.
Or, go to school for decades, avoid work, worry
Have a dozen babies, yet never be a wife.
Flash mobs gave Milwaukee two months with
no racial peace,
In Philly, our nation's founding mantel piece,
White tourists were run down, beaten without
Despite mixed Council, Black Mayor and Black
led police.
One weekend at state fair, in upper central state,
White families were assaulted by Black gangs
yelling hate,
Flash mobs, whose own racial hatred fails to
Who forgot our Declaration, and the God that
did create.
Coded words fly across the seas on the internet,
Orders to cells from distant extremist cabinet,
Plan the next explosions, making sure bombs are all set,
To make real, their cruelest Jihaddist epithet.
She strained, pulled, but stayed tied, nude and
spread out supine,
Got chafed ankles, wrists, not her struggle's
only sign.
Bemoaned tangling with this devil on her own
social line.
Mom had told her, "So much time on the net
is asinine!"
Girl knew his email, handsome face and astrologic sign,
To meet him just for ice cream had seemed so
Knew he'd have to kill her, to that she was now
Crusty, abused, she would soon die, that;s the
bottom line.
Poor boy, only twelve, but the reckless, clever
Was warned of predators, but paid Dad no mind.
Now, gagged, tied up on a filthy couch, bleeding from behind.
Both guys showed up again, to prod and grunt
and grind.

                           AND FUTURES

Psychologists supported gay parenting for thirty years or so, But only studied kids then living in such homes,
told the world, "We know,
These kids are normal, unaffected, happy--that's what our research shows, Found no real problems, no increase from normal homosexual ratios."
But, two, new, hard studies based on solid statistical
foundations, Examined adults who were raised in 
same sex parent situations,
Documented the aftermath, not ignorant, little kid's interpretations.  Of course, this was all ignored by media, but , still raised Gay Alliance consternations.
Three thousand adults returned forms, of 15,000 randomly sent out.  Dr. Regnerus found 175 grew up
with Lesbians before moving out, Seventy-five adults
had only male-male parenting, on this had no doubt.
The rest, from man-woman homes which favored
only heterosexual cookouts.
Only two percent from male-male homes had both
parents at least three years, and just 23% from
Lesbian homes had intact homes that long adhered.
Was obvious, Gay parents don't provide kids for a long stable atmosphere...In contrast to heterosexual homes that are recorded as being muuch more lasting and more sincere.
More shocking, were memories of childhood sexual abuse:  Just two percent for those from normal homes,while 23% from homosexual homes recalled abuse....as high as 53% for girls..By a parent, parent friends, or baby sitters that had been used.
That's  ten times, at least, odds of underage, sexual assaults produced.
Adults raised by Gay couples, were four times as likely to be on welfare, Four times more likely to be unemployed, at the time of the questionaire.
Four times more likely, had  allowed sex against their will, and/or to conduct affairs, Four times more likely to have had sexual confusion, and/or periods of despair.
Jean Marc, a Gay males spokesman who lives in Paris, France, says he was raised by two Lesbians and influenced by several "Aunts."
Now he argues against Gay parenting, labels it a
selfish act,  pure ignorance, While young, felt "Like I'd had an amputation," knew of sexual dissonance.
Another Frenchman Xavier Bongibault, a vocal Gay
and an atheist, says marriage was designed to protect kids, not help Gay love affairs persist, That the poor
kids need, deserve Male-Female parenting, not two
Peter-Pan egoists....There's so much more to parenting, than just being an outed hedonist.
Dr. Loren Marks' published work agrees with what
Dr. M. Regnerus study had deduced: Earlier, loosely done studies, ignored adult outcomes, had failed totally to compare, Ignored adult-life ills, ennui, life
choices, problems, the results was neither scientific
nor fair...Just false-hope opinions, weak technique, and quite academically impaired.
   Reference:  Journal of Social Science Research,
Vol 41, Issue 4, July 2012.."Study of Adult Children From Same-sex Parents," M. Regnerus, and "Same-Sex Parenting And Children's Outcomes," L.Marks.

                        ARKANSAS, 1919             
 It was 1919, in rugged, red-dirt eastern Arkansas,
Along the Hoop Spur rail line, just north from Elaine,
Poor Black, tenant farmers was all passengers saw,
In hot sun, with burlap sacks, a sweating Human chain.
The Fourteenth Amendment was passed in 1868,
Signed by North and South, (John Bingham's Bill),
Said that a state could no longer discriminate,
Strip anyone, due to heredity, of their rights,or  free will.
The President was charged to enforce this new BIll of 
Hereby, for all, everywhere, should a state fail to fit,
Show prejudice, or commit bad deeds, the White Housemust all wrongs aright,
Waste not that spilled precious blood, from both sides,
that had led to it.
During 1870, the Fifteenth Amendment was passed,
Guaranteed ballot box access to all regardless of race,
The Civil RIghts bill of 1875 declared all men to be one class,
  Allowed free, safe access to public places, to wearers of any color face.

Eloquent Frederick Douglas, was so elated by it all,
He spoke of the color-blind paradise, now, to all availed.
But, the Klan, and most Whites, they saw only an
As Wilson's White House segregated the IRS and US
Harvard's racist Dean, in a speech, said, "There's nothing wrong,"
As the Southern Democrats schemed, then acted and undermined it all,
And scientists explained, openly, just why, Blacks were so much less cerebral.
Reconstruction Blacks were left poor, out there on
their own,
Bought seeds, goods, paid rent, fed and clothed their
families and selves.
So, former slavers, now landlords, found the era's
expenses now very low,
Bought Blacks' crops cheap, sold high for great profits
in the Sun Belt.
Meanwhile, the world cotton market values still higher 
Thoughtful Black farmers met three times at their
Hoop Spur Church,
Formed a new Lodge-Union, and new co-op cotton
price proposed.
As White, armed thugs were creeping through the
Weeping Birch.

The peaceful Lodge meeting was shattered by the sound of guns,
Sun-dried Church planks splintered.  A Black or two
then fired back,
But, most, unarmed, to nearby swamps and  woods went on the run.
Governor Brough, next day, gave orders to his State Troopers to attack.
Out-gunned, out-manned, the regions Blacks were
hunted down,
Whole families shot, beaten, burned, lynched or captured over several days.
State's machine-gun squads wanted the Lodge's
poor leaders found,
Prowling the woods, troops discoverd mass lynchings
on their forays.
Hundreds died, some were recent World War I heroes,
Who, now home, simply wanted a fair price for their cotton crop.
For two, long weeks, still more gun-smoke-burnt-flesh
stench arose,
Around that poor, destroyed Hoop Spur Church whistle stop.
Lodge-Union motto, listing duites, faith, privileges and
civil rights,
Now, scant comfort to the Blacks, now some eight hundred jailed..
The "Man" in Little Rock, had crushed Black souls with all of his state's might.
Black victims prayed for Wilson's prompt presidential rescue, sadly, to no avail.

Seventy-five Lodge members, well, they got only prison terms,
Their twelve leaders, the electric chair, from grim,
determined White juries.
Most all charges, later on, dismissed as the lies, tortures were confirmed,
Prooving the Federal Investigators' own worst-case  worries.
The civil, peaceful, correctly founded poor Black
Its aspirations,  had never really been a threat to the
peace or Whites.
It had simply followed the latest laws and the U.S.
But, the state of Arkansas, snuffed out lives,
Civil Rights and, dear Miss Liberty's own lights.


 Had called him, the night before my Dad died,
  Five days after prostate surgery, he'd survived.
"I go home tomorrow," said my wise old man,
 Whose credo was, "Always do the best you can."    
"Did doctor find any problems, or cancer? I asked.
  "None," he said, "Healing up is now my sole task,
His nurse came, told me what home chores to do,
 'Breathe deep twice, move all limbs each hour or two'
I have no pain, feel OK, no problems that I see,
 But, like I've told you kids, life's  dead-end street,
No one goes back, we can only forge ahead,
 Then, somewhere on the way, we all end up dead."
I promised, we planned to visit Cleveland soon,
 That I'd call him sometime tomorrow afternoon.
"You're tough, Dad, odds are you'll recover well,
 Soon be back at Mass, and ring St.Mary's bell."
Dad was a great choir master, known historian,
 A good friend, teacher, cantor, family man,
Skilled machinist, a church school princiipal,
 And, well known midwestern diocese pedagogical.
In Czechoslovakia, where he'd been raised,
 Cruel Nazis, avid greedy Reds left Dad amazed.
He saw riots, Jews all beaten, unrest, so left family soil,
And quite soon, another war began to boil.
Long ago, Dad foretold our country's future woes,
 "Elect Socialists, and you'll find, down hill it all goes!"
I, a college kid, laughed,"Dad, that's hard to believe,"
Now, of both and my country, I'm bereaved.


A political celebrity was gunned down,
Supporters shot, hurt or killed who'd gathered round.
Crazy shooter, looney,bald,scary, an evil clown,
Heard him laugh, as his last gunshots echoed down.
He,well known, had concerned teachers several years
Made comments, driven coed classmates to tears.
Campus cops had notified county law, they feared,
The future, sent flyers out on dude aptly called weird.
He bought a gun, filled out home town registration,
Cleared by Feds, as he had no outside reputation.
But, local law ignored flyer, and gun-buy scrutation,
The facts do give off strong, negligence vibration.
Post shooting, came the sheriff's proclamation...
Mainly, covering his ass with lots of vituperation:
Blamed Mrs. Palin, spewed Tea Party vitriolation,
And Talk Radio, to my amazed consternation.
This dunce paid no mind to radio, talk of politics,
Obsession with his target, was how he got his fix,
Upsetting classes where he had to speak and mix.
It was  resentful killing that had his mind transfixed.
A crazy, with photo-flyer to teachers' desk afixed,
Not spurred by speeches nor even geopolitics.
His Dad, that day, thought son was up to dirty tricks.
Looking back, where do you, think blame be fixed?


 He saw, in a resentful, surly,roaming, hoodied kid,
 Much, as a teen, things which, he, himself once did:
Skip class, hang where truants, bikers, losers hid,
Disliked students, who, in class, guys like him outdid.
Whining, resentful,drank, smoked what the law forbid,
With a hating, social-justice poet who'd hit the skids,
Learned it was time to pay back bad shit, pro-quid,
Stir up race-hate, blow off that damn melting pot's lid!
Half-white, taught, that side, to get by, must underbid,
Go out, spread the word, in banger jacket of black kid.
Old feelings rose, he said, "That kid might be my son,"
Not, "calm down, get the facts," once more, he jumped the gun.
"White-shoots-Black's not right!" ( Ignored home town where much more shootings done),
Like with those "dumb", D.C. Cops, once more he became a knee-jerk automaton.
Causing more unrest with his race-hate lexicon.
Learned the dead teen, tossed from school, was no
student paragon,
Alleged fight promoter, school yard loafer who felt put
The watchman, (half-Inca, part Spanish) turned out,
had been beaten on,
Squashed nose, bruised,cut, shirt-back stained with
grass he'd been slammed upon,
Images of his injuries blurred by skillful alteration.
While media showed the deceased as much younger,
smaller, smiling, sadly gone.
Hate mongers still provoke the crowds.  Most of us just want to get back to Justice with her blindfold on.


It's not P.C. to deem risky, amoral, abnormal things adverse,
Nor people, no matter how bizarre, criminal or perverse.
Don't opine their art, actions, young minds in deep
filth do immerse,
Change them into fools, who mainly, in four letter words converse.
To destroy what's moral, wise seems liberal commerce,
Unleash wild dogs of lust, greed, and hate, hard-won
civil sanity reverse.
What's harmful, corruptive P.C. puppets now openly
Dissolving social fabric, beliefs with choices now called "diverse."
On life's stage, eerie views, sick appetites, even feces openly dispersed,
Spread disease, addiction, derelictions like some
horrid curse.
In drugs, drink, discharge, folly desciples gleefully
Yes, there is so much to lose in this free-will-gifted
P.C. deems "Merry Christmas," church-yard manger
scenes offenseive or perverse,
  Yet, wants grade school diverse sex practice classes, by law, dispersed.
"No Friday fish lunch, but do recall, Muslims believe
that pork is cursed."
Ban Bibles, but in schools  prayer rugs, O.K., P.C. is not adverse.
In Psychiatry's Grey Book, deviations are erased or
Hundred years of medical axioms tossed overboard,
Will  the coming generations be better off, or worse?
Witless freedom is chaos.  Base urges' consequences
waste the public purse.
Man's the only moral creature in this enormous
But, with P.C. blinders on, good-bad, worthy-worthless are inversed.
A smart man told, "Love the sinner, at least hate his
sins and vices worse.
One tough task, when fools, their harmful doings
can't or won't reverse.
East Coast "Ethics" Chairman taught his class, that
bestiality's not perverse,
If the dumb beast chosen to cross-species sex is not
P.C. asks death sentences for killers, terrorists be
Yet, defends flawed law that makes pre-born vivisection a subsidized commerce.

              A  FATHER'S LOST SON 

      Dear one, I saw you in a scene,
          Small, bare, swimming, as in a stream.
      How could that really be?  I mean,
            We never met before that strangedream.
      Was warm, clear liquid soothing you?
          Wondered where were you paddling to?
     Bright skin so pale, your veins were blue,
          Without a trace of hair on you.
     Weird, but familiar scene it was...
           Proved later on my screen, because,
    Googling abortion related laws,
         One early photo made me pause.
     It was a thumb-sized drop, held aloft,
           You, thrashing in that sac's clear broth,
     Yellow fingers clad in latex cloth,
          That's when, in my dream, you signed off.
    I've read, so I know what happened,
           How your life met such an early end,
     In a blood and amniotic fluid blend,
         One sick act that Nero'd comprehend.
     Psalms say: God knew you, my lost son,
         Before from her warm womb withdrawn.
     We missed Birthing Cherubs' carillon,
         Still, we met in dreamy misty noumenon.   


 Yes, judge, I'm here today to plead for equal rights, under Roe V. Wade.
 Right now, men have no rights nor choices regarding babies made.
 I'm here for truth, not a circus, nor your female sensitivities to abrade,
 Nor the role of good fatherhood, slight, be-little or degrade.
 My petition in your desk docket, is not some misogynistic tirade:
 It asks, why one party can decide to gestate, or not, 
when both parties did get laid?
  Why only women can refuse to accept parental burdens, and, in in doing so, evade,
 Eighteen expensive, emotional years chained up in a picket fence stockade?
 When two got pregnant, and the man desires to raise that baby that he made,
  But, she says, "No!" Then scrapes or sucks it out, his wishes hit the law's blockade.
   But, if she wants it, the poor guy has no say, That makes equal rights just a cruel charade,
  Consigns his child to medical waste, or worse, cut  into parts for the biologic trade.
  Why does Law think only the man's desires are so 
selfish, make only him a renegade?
  Does Law ever force her to carry, for a mere nine months, a baby she gladly made?
 Why does Law, conversely, punish the guy to two
harsh decades of payments made?
 Are not freedoms, "choices," for both sexes, in the
Founding Documents deeply inlaid?

The "fetus" is the unborn, from seven weeks until delivery,
After conception's done, and new life completes its
Late term abortion's done when the baby's head top
is all that one can see,
Before the head, face, shoulders, arms or legs are
out by delivery.
"Doctors" drill or snip a hole, suck out brains from the
poor, restrained, gagged baby.
So, a killing's done, before the fetus gets out, that's the technicality.
What comes out is just a pale, deceased, defective
fetus, legally,
With a frightful scheme once dreamt up for cases of
Panicked, pregnant girls are often alone at the time of
No witness there, in the bathroom stall, to help her out or to even see...
Some, not wanting motherhood, choke or smother the
gasping, new-born baby.
Such may result in prosecutorial charges for murder and inhumanity.
The girl, disgraced, abandoned, may even end up in
jail, no longer free.
Ironically, no one ever thinks to pay her an obstetrical fee.
So, how, can these young girls avoid ostracism, and
 a fat lawyer fee?
Here, girls, is your recipe to end that little life with no
guilt, nor anxiety:
It's a way so simple, it could even be done by a well trained chimpanzee.
Cut off the head's convexity, then scoop out its brains
as it reaches vaginal apogee.
No doctor, no O.B., just a blade or scissors and a 
 modicum of digital dexterity.
The only police charge could be, "Judge, she did her own abortion, without a  medical degree!"
After all, today, there's no baby killed, unless it  has exited the vulvar anatomy.
What you can do is legally O.K., although, to some,
may seem a cruel depravity,
It's just what some doctors do, allowed to, by the  High Court's legalistic buffoonery.


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