The HyperTexts

Richard A. Finburg

Richard A. Finburg is an attorney and writer based in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania.


The silent virus stalks our streets.
Should we err, we lose, it beats. 
     Do not dally, do not fiddle,
     Do not dither, do not twiddle.
Join the fight.  Avoid defeat.

To get to work, make economy tick,
And reopen schools in the cities and sticks,
     Masks are essential.
     Their use is prudential
To hinder the virus and render it nix.  

To best address the virus puzzle,
Wear a mask.  It’s not a muzzle.
Lift to guzzle.  Or just nuzzle.

Teachers, children, medics, Veterans,
First responders – all are threatened.
Don a mask and keep your distance.
That is how you bring assistance,
That is how our shared persistence
Saves your child, saves your mate,
Saves your parent, changes fate.

It’s a small thing to ask and easy task:
If you Love our Country, wear a mask.

Copyright ©Richard A. Finberg 2020.

The Charge of the Right Brigade

For half a year, half a year
Since Covid-19 struck,
Republican Senators ran amok.
Except for one with conscience clear,
    Into the belly of Covid
    The Senators stumbled.
        “Forward, the Right Brigade!”
Number 45 thundered.
Into the Valley of Death
    The 52 tumbled.

“Forward, the Right Brigade!”
Hollered the would-be King.
Were the 52 dismayed?
No, though all experts knew
    45 had blundered.
    Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
    Theirs but to repeat the lie,
Into the shadow of Death
    The 52 thundered.

    Corona to the right of them,
Corona right in front of them,
The People to the left of them
    Rallied and rumbled.
Stormed at with sighs and tears,
Mask-less, they hid their fears.
Coldly under 45’s spell,
    Into the bowels of Hell,
    Into the belly of Covid,
        The 52 bumbled.

Burning moral fiber bare,
Spurning truth to spew hot air,
Endangering all, without a care   
    While all the world wondered.
The People choked in tear-gas smoke.
Kurds abandoned. Allies stoked.
Russians cheered as 45 spoke,
   Children jailed, families broke,
    Elections turned asunder.

As Senators slid into Covid’s lair,
    45 stayed to the rear,
    Supposedly hobbled by bone spurs.
The People could only shake in fear
    When Senators stuck like burrs.
    To 45’s course, they did adhere.
He had no Plan – they did not care.
The People die, but why despair?
    “It is what it is,” said His Heiness,
    While all the world wondered.

Blundering, blabbering, blathering, bullying,
    Number 45 lies, and then –
    He lies and lies and lies again.
The People dying.  45 lying.
The People crying.  45 lying.
The People praying.  45 braying.
The People suffering.  45 playing golf.  
    Insatiably, brazenly, shamelessly,
    Despotically playing golf
    While The People suffer in pain.

“All the Doctors are amazed” He says,
“By what I know about Medicine.”
    (We are all amazed, dare I say?)

Says the mindless ‘Quiet genius’:
    “Covid will magically go away.”
    “Covid is like a cold”
    “99% of Covid patients have no problem.”
    “Children are virtually immune.”
    “We will soon have zero cases.”

Asks the dotard ‘Quiet genius’:
   Can’t we just inject a disinfectant?
   Or swig a bit of bleach?
   Or dine with hydroxychloroquine?
   What do you have to lose?

How many have suffered? How many have died
    From 45’s horrible lies?
How many People could have been saved
    If the Senators reined in the Knave?

Where are the 52 who feared to attend
Their own (now cancelled) Convention,
‘Cause even He could not cower or coax
The virus to believe itself a hoax?
So, nobody attended His Coronation
As King of the Corona-Nation.

Where are the 52 who would bend the knee to
    Donald the First,
King of Republicans and Rightful Heir of the Republic,
Supreme Commander of all Armed Services
    And Intelligence Agencies;
Trustee of Nuclear Weapons;
Chief of Depts. of State, War, Justice, IRS, etc.;
Surgeon General; Judge of Elections;
Chief Revisionist for the Smithsonian;
Master of the Universe; and
    Hand of Putin?

So, what will become of the 52
Who plunged into the Valley of Death?
   Theirs not to make reply,
   Theirs not to reason why,
   Theirs but to repeat the lie,
Theirs not to defend the Constitution
Against all enemies, foreign and domestic?

    O what silence they maintained!
When will their complicity be forgotten?
When will our memories be purged of them?
    All the world wonders.
Should you see these sorry souls, ask:
    “What have you done today
    To control the Pandemic and help the People?”

Should they not run away, ask:
    “What will you do tomorrow
    To control the Pandemic and help the People?”

    To honor the office, we sometimes write
    “The Honorable” before a Senator’s name.
It does not mean that they are right,
Or acted without blame or shame
    While our world crumbles.    
Nor does “The Honorable” mean or imply,
They may ignore a President’s lie,
And coldly let The People die,
    While all the world wonders.

History will not forget, the complicit enablers,
    ‘The Right Honorable 52.’

Copyright © Richard A. Finberg 2020

The HyperTexts