Mary Toodle-Pip

Mary slammed her old phone down with a bang.
Her neatly-pressed gingham dress swirled and shook
As she whirled around, 'DANG! '
'The Mobile Home Ombudsman is not in, ' 'The schnook! '

'Always the same. They think they can ignore me? '
She laced her boots and jammed on her red hat.
Her thin, angular body quivered. 'We'll see.
I'm going to the state capitol. DRAT! '

The train rattled and whistled all the while.
It puffed and snorted, and so did Mary,
Angrily clutching her mobile home file.
'My tax pays his salary. Glory be! '

When she arrived, she plopped down in a taxi.
'I'm sorry lady, I'm waiting for my fare.'
' You just got a fare to the capitol! '
He started up when he saw her glare.

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poem by Mary Naylor
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Jonathan Nathan Go Do Your Homework

JONATHAN NATHAN GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK!

Little Jonathan Nathan looked at his mama.
“Juan wasn’t at school today.
His family are illegal immigrants. They’re being deported.”
“Good, they have no business being here.”

“He was looking through the fence at school,
And he was crying. Why was he sad? ”
“He’s being sent back to Mexico where he belongs.
You know he and his family are here illegally.”

“Are we here legally? ”
“Why Jonathan Nathan, of course we are! ”
And, I am a Daughter of the Revolution.
This country was built on such as we.”

“Were we here before anyone else? ”
“Well, no, there were some Indians and Mexicans.
But they don’t count. We count.”

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poem by Mary Naylor
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