Steps

Steps

What a funny (strange) word,
Looking at it, wondering this morning what my nighttime A-Ha moments were,
Writing my new post in my sleep,
sometimes that is a better place for it.

12 steps, 39 steps, 13 steps,
How many steps to kill a killer?

I read Kathy's post  on Window over the Kitchen sink
and I felt more kinship with her post than the cheers and glee,
Diane sawyer apologetically interrupting Dancing w/the stars
while showing a blood spilled photo, what's goin' down at Asama's.
If I misspell, I am keeping down the search engine activity.
This does not fill me with happiness,
seeing the blood spot, no dead body to look at,
am I becoming a death-er?
I will never admit it if I am.
Somethings we must keep to ourselves.

Then, PL, said clearly, Americans never forget.
He sentenced a man to death, saying that man was bad enough.
Still, my ambivalence strong.
Was there any other way?

And I remember my fight, how the town has ignored me, then said,
you can never change this law, this unconstitutional law,
and that you must be punished for not having enough money to pay your
outrageous taxes that you cannot change,
and no one from the governor on down cares that
these taxes are killing us, driving out the little people.

What are the steps to free myself from this fight?
PL told me I will never forget.
The lawyers said you cannot fight city hall,
The town says, let's celebrate our happy town,
The tax man lurks, and gets fat on an unconstitutional law.

I see no steps.
Where did that witty post go in the night?