I Don’t

“I Don’t” from Goldendate [Washington] Sentinel, Oct. 24 1918
My parents told me not to smoke—
I don’t;
Nor listen to a naughty joke—
I don’t.
They made it plain I must not wink
At pretty girls, or even think
About intoxicating drink—
I don’t.

To dance and flirt is very wrong—
I don’t.
Wild youths chase women, wine and song—
I don’t.
I kiss no girls, not even one—
I do not know how it is done—
You wouldn’t think I had much fun—

Author Unknown

From “I Don’t,” Goldendale [Washington] Sentinel, October 24, 1918, page 1. (Cited here.)


Snake Courtesy Gospel Media Library
I remember the
bright, sullen days,
when, familiar as blood,
he slipped effortlessly
through razor thin
blades of deceit.

They warned us,
young keepers
of the garden, but
as you might remember,
we refused their
preternatural gambit.

By summoning hiss
he conjured fears and
hot, sulfuric tears,
turning our
pyre of passion into
a smoldering disaster.

Then feigning injury
and taking sudden,
terrified leave,
the slithering seraph
fled beyond,
without us.

Until we meet again,
may searing
eternal light
chase you far,
far away.

Michael James Fitzgerald

Late Summer Blues

Empty baseball diamondWell, I woke up this morning
about a quarter past yawn,
when I crawled outta bed
it was way before dawn.

Oh, I got them blues, yeah,
them late summer blues.
Let me tell you all about ’em,
the late summer blues.

I drove down to the store
and couldn’t believe my eyes.
From wall to wall there’s nuthin’
but back-to-school supplies.

Oh, I got them blues, yeah,
them late summer blues.
Let me tell you all about it,
my late summer blues.

No more picnics or parades,
we’re done with county fairs,
no more campfires or s’mores
or front porch rockin’ chairs.

Oh, do you got them blues,
them late summer blues?
I want to cry all about it,
them late summer blues.

All ya see is yellow buses
and geese flying south,
if someone says Halloween
gonna punch ’em in the mouth.

Yeah, I got them blues,
Yeah, them late summer blues.
I think they’re here to stay,
The late summer blues.

Michael James Fitzgerald


Photo of a rainbow

The present is
no slave to
the past.
It is the past.
This moment
does not invent
the future.
It is the future.

Preparing for the future
brings the future
into this very moment.
Reparations for the past
invites the past
into this moment.

The past need not
remain a disappointment
nor the future
a terror
when we gracefully
welcome as dear friends
the future and past
into this

Michael James Fitzgerald