A Cardinal for Our Times

Flatulently wondering at his own eminence,

Painfully straddling the doctrinal fence,

Smirking, he blurts weak platitudes and lies.

Choked by his gas, the faith of millions dies.

To an abortionist: A Sonnet

I was very angry when I wrote this. I am, still. I am aware that the last line lacks charity. So do I where the abortion trade is concerned.

Caveat Lector!

Mangler of innocent limbs, crusher of skulls,
Vacuuming babies' brains, selling flesh, cells
From your tiny victims to pharmaceuticals,
Your hand, trained to save life, from women pulls

Daily the harmless, helpless, breathless child.
What? Do you flaunt compassion as you trade?
Foul Cromwell, Mengele, Medea all are made
As apprentices by your massacre. Benign, mild,

Smile Stopes, Steele, urbane harbingers of your slaughter
Pleading the same frigid compassion, mad
With ideals void of love. Homes, never made glad
By childish innocence, devoid of holy laughter, 
Will be your monument. You chose Herod's role;
So may Hell's maggots munch your undying soul.