Laurence Overmire   The Convention There was a convention Of hypocrites That convened in redundant Adulation But he was not invited The man of the Daring Deuce. They spouted their Aspersions Redeemed their Aspirations Towering mediocrity To dwarf the voice That shatters glass And mingles with The blood of Earth. No, he was not invited But conveniently Exposed To ridicule Behind his back They laughed. How clever their Indignity How infinite their Reach To touch the stars One need only Lower The sky.               Killer Groceries Mommy and Daddy take the little children Almost dutifully To the big-chain super-market Packed and stacked with fantastic poisons of every kind Chemicals, additives, waxes, fillers Potent adversaries to bodily function Carcinogenic criminals lurking in fine print Too difficult to see A glut of fat and cholesterol-laden Goodies with bad intentions Sweet-sappy-saccharine liars to Tempt, cajole, and seduce The unsuspecting, ill-informed Prey Tutored persistently With unrelenting glee by a money-grubbing color box That squats boldly in the living room, the den The kitchen, garage and even in The nursery Drilling its insistent silly-sweet jingles, ditties and nonsense rhymes into Dulled brains too tired to think Or question the motives of a friendly smiling face Who looks an awful lot like someone you know.     Snowbound He was snowed in The roads were closed He couldn't go to work The fire was blazing But the house was cold A woman and two kids Sat there staring Wondering Who the hell was this intruder? There was no mail, no paper The power was out And he left his briefcase in the car Buried under two feet of snow. In the corner, snarling Was that old dog Time Unleashed The mangy creature leaped Sank yellow fangs into the poor man's neck Dragged him up the stairs Into the bathroom And whirled him in front of the mirror The man, terrified, gasped in horror Surprised to see For the very first time Himself.