Toronto: In Which I Approach Again My Spiritual Home

Toronto! Soon I'll see the CN Tow'r
From out the tiny window of a plane,
Get lost in Pearson, bus ride through rush hour,
Then rumble 'neath your streets. A subway train,
Then stroll up King Street. Fox & Fiddle, you
Had best be ready with some Guinness, then
I'll prowl again your secret paths, sneak through
Your empty spaces with my dearest friend.
Your parks in spring I've never seen and I,
Unique among your visitors, shall feel
I'm going to warm up there -- snows still fly
And frost and ice still crust the ground, for real
In old Cheyenne. But soon I'll see the world
In just one city. Look! My toes have curled!

Sonnet Rant: My Problem with Epic Fantasy

Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,
Uneasy is the ass that sits the throne.
This foolishness, in wisdom, we cast down;
Heredity and leadership unsewn
The one, now, from the other. This is just.
It's right that ev'rybody has a chance
To rise to where he will. So I distrust
This love of kings and nobles; the romance,
The glamor. We look backwards and we feel
A wholly false nostalgia -- and some seek
To drag us back to those dark days! It's real.
Who'd be our feudal lords again just speak
In clouded terms. Remember: kings are jerks.
Beneath each politician's smile one lurks.