Thursday, September 29, 2011

RICK PERRY, GOD, AND THE AMERICAN VOTER

When God looked down and saw Rick Perry
Was preaching in His name He said,
“That man is totally gooseberry
For no one knows what’s in my head.
Not even Me.”  And calling Jesus
Said, “Tell that man he will displease us
If he presumes to speak for God.”
So Jesus vanished in a nod.
And when returning, he reported.
He said all Perry did was laugh.
This pissed off God.  He said, “This gaffe
Will cost him dearly.  Make him sordid.”
No sooner said than it was done.
But even so Rick Perry won.

AN MFA IN SCREEN WRITING, A RECOMMENDATION

1
A college started its Extension
In writing, granting MFAs;
But wasn’t getting much attention
Since other schools were, nowadays,
So busy granting their diplomas.
“You’d think we’re selling carcinomas,
For all the business that we get,”
A writing teacher said.  “It’s debt
And interest that the banks are charging,”
Another said.  The Dean, fed up,
While drinking from his coffee cup,
Said, “We’ll begin then by enlarging
Our writing program.  What’s forsworn?” 
All looked confused.  “Why . . . writing porn.”
2
“But, Dean, we are a Christian college!”
“Exactly.  People of the Book.
The Bible’s full of carnal knowledge.”
And so the panel took a look.
And when they finished, they detected
The Bible stories they’d inspected,
Although it’s true they were complex,
Were all conspicuous for sex.
At this they settled in to thinking,
When one, the writing teacher, said,
“But porn’s just fucking, giving head.”
“Then what we need is interlinking
What happened with what’s apropos:
That most were scourged with a stone’s throw.”
3
Their writing program proved successful,           
Once it got passed the school’s trustees;
Who thought at first it might be stressful
To those believing porn was sleaze.
But when convinced that Bible stories
Displayed their God in all His glories,
They offered prizes for the script
That showed their God as all unzipped.
In truth was plot and conversation,
And characters that were hard-core
That stopped a porno from a bore.
From then, screen writer’s education
Began by subbing porn’s brute force
With what excited intercourse.


THE CULT OF THE AMERICAN ASSHOLE, A LIST

1
The CEOs of corporations;
The bankers who’ve sucked people dry;
The politicians of all nations
Who promise peace then shout “banzai;”
The mega-church broadcasting preachers
Who rail at numb nuts in their bleachers
And claim the Bible is a book
Shows Darwin needs another look;
The president whose one ambition
Is rendering health care for all
And sends us home with Tylenol,
And says it’s just an intermission;
Reporters from the mainstream pressed
To write what publishers want stressed;
2
The companies who pump pollution
Into our water and our air,
Then just before their prosecution
Endow a “scientific” chair
That proves these claims impossibilities,
Just theories not infallibilities;
And so a court finds it’s their right
To drill and pump to their delight.
More deaths, they say, are caused by swilling
The spirits that make people drink;
Or suicides from Facebook’s ink
Than have been caused by oil drilling.
Therefore, drill on we won’t abide
What’s far from proven cut and dried;
3
The patriots who hang Old Glory
Outside their trailers make me gag . . .
These good ole boys don’t know the story
Why other people burn their rag:
So why not start with Indian killing
That movies made so awfully thrilling;
What slavers did so long ago;
And, recently, the South’s Jim Crow;
And worse, illegal immigration:
In which they think they’ll lose their jobs
(It’s foisted on them by nabobs)
And stop this country’s jubilation
At being white.  Well that’s not bad
Since race has driven us quite mad.


(TOO LONG TO BE CONTINUED)

WHAT DOES POETRY DO?


I wish that I could write like Horace;
But is America like Rome?
Both sets of leaders’ heads are porous.
It may be leadership syndrome
That sets in when a politician
Has risen to a high position:
They all forget what they were taught
In civics so they’re easy bought.
So politicians are generic.
But what of poets?  Are they too?
Indeed.  The difference is milieu.
The Romans, closer to barbaric
Ways of life, put them to death.  Here?
You could be talking to your mirror.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

ADVICE TO COMMUNISTS *


It follows from our exploitation,
No matter gender, race, or creed,
That working people have no nation
So are best placed at routing GREED.
Like capital we’re international;
Unlike it though we can be rational.
If we can put class in first place
We will arise a human race.
But only after revolutions
Have turned the world all upside down
And capital has lost its crown,
Will workers’ co-ops’ contributions
Make any sense; but then you’ll see
What turns an “I” into a “We.”

* This “poem” argues that, as Marx argued, despite all differences working people, the world over, have ONE BIG THING in common: their exploitation.  It does not mean that we are not divided by a host of differences.  But unless communists bring this ONE BIG THING to the forefront we will never have a basis for overcoming these differences. This is the special task assigned to communists.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

THE AMERICAN WAY

A cleaning crew began its sweeping
When others in the office left;
A cleaner heard a cell phone beeping,
Had slipped into a couch’s cleft.
She groped it out and thought to answer;
But didn’t since she thought she’d chance her
Job and then what would she do so
She walked away and let it go.
When, later on, it still was ringing,
She answered it and someone said,
“Your stock will rise tomorrow, Ed.”
And then hung up.  She started singing.
Had thought to phone the SEC’s
Hot line.  Thought, “No. Kids' college fees.”

Monday, September 26, 2011

ECONOMIC JUSTICE (FOR A NEW LABOR MOVEMENT)

I stand for economic justice
But not the Democratic way;
For, like Obama, they will bust us,
Then laugh and say it’s A-OK.
So let’s get down to class tectonics
Of justice in our economics:
Where workers can appropriate
The profits bosses cumulate.
This follows from our exploitation.                   
(Which means that bosses really steal
What is produced by commonweal.)
And so there’s no equivocation
We’ll have to take it with a fight
So: WORKERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE!

Saturday, September 24, 2011

ECONOMICS VS. ECONOMISM (FOR OCCUPIED WALL STREET)

Since capital is parasitical
On everything its workers built,
Perhaps we should get analytical
And build a party that won’t jilt
The average person’s aspirations;
But fights against debilitations,
Especially one where what we’re paid
Is just a cut from what we made.
If this sounds built on economics
Alone, and leaves all else aside,
It is.  Let practice be our guide.
So let's get down to class tectonics.
In unions people have begun
To learn that they must move as one.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

MID-LIFE CRISIS


He stumbled in his mid-life’s journey
And knew he didn’t have a clue
About his ending on a gurney.
It couldn’t mean that he was through.
His life, thus far, was disappointing.
His trouble was with his pinpointing
Of where he’d taken his wrong turn . . .
When someone yelled, a new intern,
“Sir, do you have your health insurance?”
“But what was that supposed to mean?”
“Sir, you have a rupture in your spleen.
You’re bleeding out.”  Then his endurance
Gave out, as he thought in despair,
“Why did I hate Obamacare?”

A NATION LIKE NO OTHER (FOR TROY DAVIS AND NEWT GINGRICH)*


We are a nation like no other:
We are the City on the Hill
Where looking down we kill a brother;
Or anybody who’s too shrill.
Here we’re controlled by politicians
Who secretly approve renditions;
And we’re so blind we cannot see
That brother is a you and me;
Here we can execute Troy Davis
On evidence so flimsy that,
If he weren’t black, we’d smell a rat;
And we’d be shouting, “Someone save us.”
The people we should execute:
Republicans. Commence with Newt.
*THIS TITLE IS TAKEN FROM A BOOK BY NEWT GINGRICH

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

THE RECRUITER (IN HONOR OF THE END OF “DON’T ASK, DON’T TELL”)*

“I specialize in gay recruiting.
It’s over now: 'Don’t ask, don’t tell.'
All over, that is, but the shooting
By some who think: ‘Cold day in hell
Before I’ll let a homosexual
Be partner to me.  Ineffectual,
A man can’t get it up in bed
With someone who is not co-ed.’
I used to think that way, believing
I’d be alone and then was shot;
Until, who’s Johnny-on-the-spot,
This gay guy said he wasn’t leaving.
He humped me out and then went back
And turned the ‘rags’ to bric-a-brac.”
* NOW HOW ABOUT ENDING THE WARS

THE SUBSTITUTE

I am a teacher’s substituter
And start, almost, from day one on;
It is as if they persecute her
So that they know next day she’s gone.
The kids are savagely rapacious,
It is as though they’re born predacious.
I know if they were kids of mine
They wouldn’t act like little swine.
But subbing’s how I make my living.
It’s more like babysitting kids
Whose brains are nothing but their ids;
And ids are always unforgiving.
Sometimes when on a barroom’s stool
And drunk I think why sub preschool?

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

THE GARGOYLED GARDEN

A priest once had a gargoyled garden
In which he used to walk and pray.
One day a servant begged his pardon,
“A woman waits in much dismay,”
He said.  The priest, a great magician,
Replied, allowing her admission.
Received, he asked what he could do.
“Please put my son here in situ.
Watched over by your statuary.”
“But why,” he asked?  “My son’s a pol.
With his election we will fall.
He helps the world’s Great Adversary.”
But no gargoyle, however hard,
Would stand a politician’s guard.

JENEEBA EVIL *

I am a witch, Jeneeba Evil,
Can occupy what form I please;
My master, from a time primeval, 
Has ordered me to seek out sleaze.
So when I tenant any body,
I’m wondering if it’s been naughty;
And, if you have, are you averse
To suffer me to make you worse.
It is the presidential season.
But what is it you really know
About the persons in this show?
Don’t think I’m speaking out of season.
My master is so sick and tired                  
Of rounding up the pols acquired.

 *Jeneeba Evil will be making occasional appearances here to expose the workings of the politicians (of whatever kind) who proclaim that that they have our best interests at heart.

Monday, September 19, 2011

RICK PERRY’S PACT WITH THE DEVIL

My cell phone wouldn’t stop its beeping.
I knew my ex was calling me
About the money for housekeeping
And child support.  I was home free
And so decided not to answer.
I knew my daughter had a cancer
But what was I supposed to do;
And so I bid the two adieu.
It happened just as I was crossing,
Against the light, but running hard . . .
Next thing I knew my prison guard
Had picked me up and was embossing
The circle number of my hell
Where Perry voters go to dwell.

COMPASSIONATE CONSERVATISM

The night was sad, the rain was blowing,
As I walked to my home alone;
My mind was rushing, overflowing
With thoughts about my leaving Joan.
My wife’s brain suffered hematoma
And now she’s lying in a coma.
I wanted out of this deathtrap
And wouldn’t hear my friends claptrap
About the evil of my leaving.
If she had wanted me to stick
Why did she go and get so sick?
And then I stopped, stared unbelieving:
It was the devil.  “Dogs are cheap,”
S/he said.  “When sick, they’re put to sleep.”
I AM THE DEVIL AND I APPROVED THIS AD

Friday, September 16, 2011

IS GOD AN URBAN LEGEND?


The thought that god is accidental,
As brain biologists would say,
Means that our god(s) are truly mental;
Or, putting it another way,
If God’s involved in our professions
Of faith, then we have made confessions
To spirits that our brains possessed
And gave it us as their bequest.
And so began mankind’s duality  
In which a body’s on parole
While linked together with a soul.
If we would use our rationality
And made our gods a snuff film clip,
Then we could claim its authorship.

UP THE KAZOO, BABY

Democracy is just illusion.
That is, the people really rule
Is proffered as foregone conclusion
Because they taught it you in school.
You took it when you graduated
Which helped those who’d accumulated
The money used to buy your vote
So that you’d never rock their boat.
If people really ruled, democracy
By now’d have penetrated work
Where we are slaves.  It’s that bulwark
That testifies to our plutocracy.
So what the hell you gonna do?
Go home, and tube it, pop a brew?

MICHELE BACHMANN’S TROUBLE


When candidates appear caressable,
As does Ms. Bachmann, by the way;
(Except, of course, to her detestable
Mate, Marcus, who is really gay),
Then they’ve a better chance with voters
Especially men ignoring odors
Of what the woman really thinks,
No matter what she says that stinks.
Her trouble is her husband Marcus:
His hair, his clothes, his flirty pout
Who, shaking hands with men, breaks out
A boner from his fatty carcass.
He should stay off the campaign trails
And OMG his press-on nails.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

DARK RELIGION

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

TEA PARTY SAYS VOTE FOR PERRY


No Bagger claims s/he’s altruistic
And wouldn’t try to save the life 
Of anyone.  But are sadistic:
And would as soon deny the knife            
You needed for an operation,
If it was had by their taxation.
Their formula is don’t get sick;
And at the same time vote for Rick.
For Perry’s made an institution
Of putting taxes on the backs
Of all who can’t afford a tax,
Then suffering their execution:
For any person who won’t pay
Must finally come to Judgment Day.

A TEA BAGGER’S DEATH

A Bagger in the late November
Of life, thought what a great mistake,
Now that his vigor’d burned to ember,
The pols had been. They would remake
A country plunged into impurity;
The ponzi scheme, social security;
And when they’d merged the church and state               
We could start over, be first rate.
But when he finally lost his pension,
And couldn’t pay kids’ college fees,
And definitely not M.D.’s,
His mind was filled with reprehension:
He thought that they should all be tried, 
Found guilty of his suicide.

Monday, September 12, 2011

THE NOMINATION FOR PRESIDENT (2012)

1
The moneyed men met in committee
There to decide the candidate
They should support: who had no pity,
When s/he became their chief of state:
To help undo social security
And send it plunging to obscurity,
Thus helping send the public trust
Into a slough of deep disgust.
When, after Bush, they tried Obama,
They quickly moved in to attack
His policy of being black;
And stirred it to a national trauma.
Republicans were their last chance
To help the world of high finance.
2
But who to choose would do them credit:
Ms. Bachmann, Perry, Romney, Newt?
They didn’t like their choices.  “Let it,”
They said, “be one who’d be a brute;
Who, when he comes down heavy-handed,
Can plead he’s done as God commanded;
And who can merge the church and state;
Decry our foes as apostate;
Who’ll take away the public pensions
So we may gather their largess
And have the country say, ‘God bless.’”
But who would make these interventions?
And so they’d let Obama win;
Then, like a snake, they’d shed their skin.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

THE FAMILY THAT PREYS TOGETHER LAYS TOGETHER (FOR THE ROSARY HOUR)


A youngster who was masturbating
Was caught red-handed by his sis;
But while she watched him flagellating
She fell into a kind of bliss.
Her teenybopper’s admiration
Adored his boner’s incarnation
Of what appeared, she would have sworn,
To be the very Matterhorn.
His hand, increasing its velocity,
Had turned his face a bloody red
Until she thought he’d lose his head;
So, charging in with wild ferocity,
She pried it from his fingertips
And shoved IT in between her lips.

Friday, September 9, 2011

RICK PERRY AND THE HIEROGLYPHIC

1
Rick Perry found a hieroglyphic,
As he stepped in a men’s room stall.
He knew this was unscientific
And so he thought it folderol.
He, after all, had been to college,
Though mostly studied carnal knowledge,
But called a preacher anyway
So he could conference and they pray.
The preacher, from First Things Museum,
Said, “Rick, behold the word of God.”
To which the governor said, “ That’s odd.”
“No, Rick, it means you cannot flee Him.
It is a sign the Holy Ghost
Wants you to raze the Leftist Coast.”
2
Down on their knees, both men were praying
Outside the stall.  The door was locked.
“You see the figure.  It’s sashaying;
And how its tiny hands are locked
Around what is, no doubt, a penis
And chasing one of boy-like genus?
That is a sign that one is gay,
Which God forbids the USA.
It may be he’s a child molester
Though both of them are all undressed
And both of them are running west.
And God, dear Rick’s, a big investor
In your campaign so you should do . . .”
“When I’m elected, I’d love to.”

RICK PERRY IN THE GREEN ROOM

An hour before Rick Perry started
Debating he sat in a room;
Advisors who had been fainthearted,
And didn’t want to bring him gloom,
Began by eyeing one another
As if to say, “You’ll back me, brother,”
When finally one said to Rick,
“When this is done, let’s vamoose quick.”
And he replied, “Hell I’m Rick Perry.
I’ll know when it is time to go;
But why?  There’s no one on death row
Tonight."  “But, Rick, the fire is hairy.”
“That’s right,” Rick said.  “When we adjourn . . .
Naw.  Fuck it.  Let the mother burn.”

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Revealed: Human Rights Watch Finds Secret Files on British Libyan Relations

My dear, Quaddfi,
                              Our renditions
Have proved a truly great success
With help from your expert technicians
In getting villains to confess.
We hope in this, your time of trouble,
We might suggest: hide in the rubble;
And when you find the bombing’s done,
Get out of there; we’ll help you run.
Be sure to bring your oil leases
So that we really know it’s you;
And that they’re ready to renew.
You know it always helps to grease us.
Don’t fuck with us or you’re puree.
Yours,
            MI6 and CIA.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

INTEROGATION TECHNIQUES


She gotten all her information
And set her goals to interview
A criminal whose concentration
Was trained by monks in Katmandu.
She pushed her chair back from the table
And hiking up her skirt was able
To give him just the briefest glance
Of pussy but no underpants.
It worked!  He grew the hugest boner
She’d ever seen.  It was immense!
Now suddenly she’s on defense.
He asked her if she could postpone her
Interview till later on so…
She said, “And where’d you like to go?” 

A CHRISTIAN REFORMATION


Awhile ago some Christian preachers
Had noticed their attendance fell
Whenever they would mention creatures
The likes of which inhabit hell.
“Perhaps we talk too much of sinning,”
Said one.  “And not enough of winning,”
Another said.  “We make it sound
As if we’re lost and won’t be found,”
A third one said.  A sermonizer,
Who weekly rained fire and brimstone
On congregants until they’d groan,
Said, “Brothers, I’m a terrorizer;
And I’ll be damned, for what it’s worth,
They’re more afraid of hell on earth.”

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

THE SHOOTER

 A mile away the shooter waited;
He knew he was outside the zone
That Treasury had federated
So hovered, waiting like a drone.
He didn't want to kill the bankers
But did because he hated cankers:
The financers foreclosed on him;
His wife had left and taken Kim.
The Treasury chief stepped to the podium.
The bullet launched, flew, fell straight down
And blew apart the banker’s crown
Then cut the man in half.  No odium
Would be attached to him who shot
A man who’d ravaged Camelot.

Monday, September 5, 2011

A CIA MEMO RELEASED BY WIKILEAKS

If we released our child molesters
On unsuspecting countries that
Have now become our worst detesters,
Then they’ll reply with tit-for-tat.  
It is the perfect opportunity
To help defend our world community:
Less tolerant of human rights,
These countries kill their human blights.
It’s what we want.  We take reprisals.
We go in with our war machine
And when we're done we’re squeaky clean.
That is, we finish both despisals:  
The child molesters we abhor
And countries.  Gone forevermore.

THE GLORY HOLE (FOR THE CATHOLIC CHURCH)

The priest, a consummate professional,
Sat waiting for the high school kids
To troop into his dark confessional
And there admit to what their ids
Had done against what God commanded.
He loved it since they were so candid.
A girl came in, was blessed, and said
She’d done it here with Father Ed.
The priest heard this and almost fainted;
But when he had regained his sense
He asked her why?  “Was false pretence,”
She said.  “He claimed that I’d be sainted.”
At this the priest lost all control
And said, “But how?”  “Your glory hole . . .”

THE GETAWAY

He knew that soon he’d be arrested,
As he sat back and gave it thought;
But all his livelong life he’d quested,
As if he were an Argonaught,
To keep his money from decreasing;
And if that meant that he’d been fleecing
The government then be it so.
His plane left shortly.  Mexico,
Which had an extradition treaty,
Would claim that he had disappeared.
(He'd paid so much he was revered.)
From there he’d see how he’d proceed.  He
Would leave his billions on account
To be paid off as bodies mount.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

RICK PERRY’S CREED


The creed according to Rick Perry-
Faith, Freedom, and Free Enterprise-
Is something liberals want to bury
And so should be our battle cries.
These are the pillars of society
Must be maintained against impiety;
And any Texan who is white
Will tell you that Rick Perry’s right.
So damn the Left and its blasphemers
Who’d damn the principles that he
Says are the Holy Trinity
Will free us from those taxing schemers. . .
Especially the payroll tax
On wages we pay our wetbacks.
I’M RICK PERRY AND I APPROVED THIS AD

AMERICAN EXCEPTIONALISM


The Newt is right we are exceptions:
We don’t believe in human rights;
We damn all women’s contraceptions;
We spit on gays and transvestites;
Would gainsay women an abortion;
Hold countries hostage to extortion;
Think equal pay for equal work
Is but the raving of a jerk;
Deny the rich should face taxation;
Believe that people ought to pray;
That Tina Fey goes MIA;
That gays should suffer fumigation;
But, most of all, we don’t dispute
The toxins of a man-like newt.

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