Archive for November, 2017

Birth of a Nation of Evil

November 25, 2017

Names of humans
haven’t enough ferocity
for attachment
to the increasing fury
of the world’s tropical storms
call them what you will
typhoon, hurricane, cyclone
Jose, Irene, Ophelia
a weak roll call
for a devastating wind-whipped deluge
works of art do better apply
For Whom the Bell Tolls
Dawn of the Dead
The Scream
especially suitable all
in the new USA
where victims get the blame
for being in the way
and survivors are urged
at governmental behest
to fuck off and die


Morontological Mystery

November 16, 2017

A black comedian
beloved by millions
turns out
he’s a rapist
it’s big news
lawsuits ensue

A Hollywood producer
who most of the nation
hadn’t heard of
until the accusations
turns out
he’s a rapist
it’s big news
lawsuits ensue

A real-estate mogul
reality TV show host
turns out
he’s a rapist
it’s big news
lawsuits die on the wind
that blows across the country
wafting him into the presidency
so he may rape us all
with absolute impunity
total legal immunity
and unprecedented (by a president) stupidity

Baseball Cap Tiara

November 13, 2017

Semiotics of poverty
worn by the wealthy
self-adorned signals
issued desperately to connect
in contempt to the underlings
plaid flannel for the garden
one-thousand-three-hundred-eighty dollars
even the dress-down
must be beyond
the peasant’s financial call
except the red ball caps
to be taken up
by one and all
in allegiance, in tribute, in salute
a less repellent sign
than the stiff arm raised high
the symbols of impoverishment
become indicators of shared hatred
and thus a billionaire
and the working poor
are united


November 9, 2017

I’m aware
This is not what I want
I want distractions
Alcohol, amusement
Any diversion
I want to be disaware
With my beer, my streaming tv
No longer can I suffer knowledge
Information, the steady stream
That over internet flows
Comes into my Pocket
Seeds of horror planted in my phone
To be emptied
Drained of news, of politics
The endless, relentless
Shovelling of shit
To what we’re subjected
Piled under, crippled in the face of it
And abandoned
Squawking infants, naked
Cries that beg for death
For release from the nonsense
Of lives
And then the question
Is it backwards
Drugs and entertainment
Outrage and political tweets
Which is the distraction
Which the main attraction
Are both each
Could one be the other
How fucked am I
When I’ve nowhere to hide

Bud Light

November 1, 2017

flapping flags on a line
small square banners dangle
like loin cloths on laundry day
each one a symbol of a caveman
unclothed and cold
wrinkled prick
withdrawing into his body
shamefully exposed
on the acreage (one point three two)
masculinity seen true
whether a bear, a viking
a redskin, a bill
packer, colt, steeler, jet or
an official beer sponsor
of the national football league
it’s all scant cover for disappointment