Wednesday, November 7, 2007


Here’s to the men and women writers
Who, fighting for the Writers Guild,
Are up against the network blighters
Whose coffers they have always filled.
They are the ones who, contemplative,
Are first and foremost most creative.
As Leno said with piercing dread,
“Without these guys I’m really dead.”
An actor might give language meaning
And take you off to make believe;
But with no writers to conceive
Which way a character is leaning
The actor’s in an awful bind
Till s/he’s told to shit or go blind.
The networks certainly’ve been able
To make it seem the writers block
Talks at the very conference table
Where they’d be willing, round-the-clock,
To suffer through negotiations
About their shows’ reincarnations,
As if it were an act of God’s
That TV shows play on ipods.
They claim they’ll study on-line streaming
But it will take them many years.
No doubt they’re led by financiers
Who all the while are really scheming
To transfer what plays on TVs
And not pay writers writing fees.
So here’s a thought in solidarity:
We’ll stand with you; go toe-to-toe
Against the networks’ insincerity
Until you get your quid pro quo.
As other workers, it’s our duty
To help you out; and not get snooty
About how much a writer earns
(When working). They’ve our same concerns-
To make ends meet the cost of living;
To see their kids hit long line drives;
To pay their bills; ex-husbands, wives.
If you’ll hang tough be unforgiving
We’ll stand with you. What I don’t get.
Who wrote your signs? Monks in Tibet!
Why shouldn’t you display your writing
While walking on your picket lines
With signs that show whom you’re indicting
That makes folks want to snap their spines,
At hearing their piss-poor excuses?
But make a joke of all their ruses.
One-liners on a public street
Will make the networks feel the heat
As folks dissolve in gales of laughter.
And will because they can ID
With others who want do re mi
For what they do now not years after.
So make your bosses laughingstocks
And turn your streets to writers’ blocks.

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