EQUAL OPPORTUNITY

Americans want equal freedom

When freedom isn’t really free.

When some live so that others eat ’em,

It sounds more like a killing spree.

It is as if all our communities,

Demanding equal opportunities,

Are calling out to scratch an itch:

An equal chance to strike it rich.

But in a land where exploitation

Decides who’s rich and who is poor

We’ll never really find a cure,

Until we shoot for its negation.

Till then who’s rich will make the rules;

The rest will, equally, be mules.

THE CHIEF OF STAFF

He was a man of courtly bearing

But wasted it in cringing smiles;

He thought himself to be unerring

But then, of course, he had the files.

And so it was with curt formality,

That so expressed his vile mentality,

That he demanded we should say

That everything was A-OK.

Our delicate discriminations

Produced a desolating dread

But we did as our master said.

This garnered us congratulations.

But for his diplomatic skill             

(And files, of course), we’d be made ill.

THE AMERICAN MIND

Americans are simple people,

Exampled in our culture wars,

And worship at bell, Book, and steeple

When not out buying stuff in stores.

We’d surely ban the  prosecution

Of men and women’s prostitution,

If they displayed their wares on floors

In any of the Wal-Mart stores.

It doesn’t really seem to matter,

And hasn’t since we were backwoods,

So long as we can “get them goods.”

In fact, we’d go mad as a hatter

If we should miss out on the sales

That constitute our holy grails.    

LOCK ’EM UP AND THROW AWAY THE KEY

To wake each day with no provision

That you’ll eventually be freed

Is how we treat whom we imprison;

And shows the kind of lives we lead.

There’s nothing like a complication

When you’re put in incarceration:

If you’re convicted of a crime,

You WAIT until you’ve done your time.

And if you finish, your mentality

Will, like a turtle with its shell,

Be burdened by your weighty cell;

And you will drag it till finality.

And citizens will all agree

They should have thrown away the key.

CHRISTWIRE PREACHER (1)

“It’s your lascivious carnality

That’s made you children of the corn;

And’s given rise to your rascality

Of doing drugs and watching porn.

But so you know it is the devil

That’s led you on this merry revel

So that forever you may dwell

With others like yourselves in Hell:

With Satan’s rappers and cross-dressers,

Muff divers, sticky finger gays

Forever burning in His blaze.

So heed me now you vile transgressors

And keep your dicks inside you pants

Or burn with your confreres from France.”

A PHILOSOPHICAL DISCOURSE ON INEQUALITY (PART 1)

How dare we know that inequality,

However it has been assigned

But principally within a polity,

Should certainly have been declined?

Consider, first, the social prequel

Of persons who aren’t freely equal.

Take, for example, persons slaves

Were only equals in their graves.

But living all their lives in slavery,

As southern blacks did in the South,

Meant living in a dragon’s mouth.

And though the dragons thought them savory,

The slaves who gave their lives in fire 

Helped dragons gag on their desire.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

A PRETTY FACE

It doesn’t seem a complex notion,

A pretty face will make men freak;

In fact it stirs so much commotion,

It turns a jock into a geek.

And when you add to that a body

That’s flowered to full-grown cum laude,

You’ll turn a man, self-willed and wild,

Into a drooling flower child.

What prompts this kind of situation?

Is it because men look for sex

And hope their boners won’t bounce checks

If there’s a chance at congregation?

My answer is, in any case,

It’s all about our saving face.

DOWN WITH THE DEATH PENALTY!

The consequent of retribution,

When’s held with all-consuming zeal

As in a case of execution,

Is that we lose our balance wheel

When figuring what’s good and evil

Until we’re lost in times primeval

When penalties of death were forced

And left no grounds to be discoursed.

But now the state inflicts the slaughter;

But only if you’re black or poor

Without the money to demur.

And so it seems that we still dodder

In times primeval, once again,

When human beings were barely men.

MY FRIEND’S HOT MOM

My friend and I came home from college;

But he went out and I slept in

Next morning. And, without my knowledge,

I woke with tits on my bare skin.

A hand reached round and held my penis

A mouth said, “I want this between us.

But keep your eyes shut. Please don’t look.”

Then slipped it in her open book.

“My husband’s gone and Jerry’s playing

With . . .Oh, my God . . . that feels so good!

You’re bigger than my husband’s wood.

How long did Jerry say you’re staying?”

I tried to answer when my mouth

Was shoved into a ditch down south.

HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH?

How much are politicians paying

For haircuts now and brand new suits;

Or mistresses for their  gainsaying

You purchased their forbidden fruits;

Or any of the “immoralities,”

Though legal, pass as “criminalities,”

Like playing straight when really gay,

Not stating God will have a say;

Or arguing from “We the People”

And finding that the “folks” get fussed

And want to start “In God We Trust,”

Then ringing it from every steeple?

In other words, what is the price

A politician pays for vice?

. . . RIDING ON APOCALYPSE

Jerusalem’s the holy city

For all the Christians, Muslims, Jews;

And cannot be run by committee,

Because each faith has its taboos.  

And so we’ll lose civilization

Which only thrives on toleration;

It’s better then to take our leave        

Before profaning some pet peeve.

These beefs prepared by “holy” leaders,  

By Christian preachers, imams, scribes,

Have ready-mixed us all in tribes.

In short, it’s done by special pleaders,

The Peoples of the Book, whose chips

Are riding on Apocalypse.

“THE PRINCIPLE OF GENRIC CONSISTENCY” (FOR ALAN GEWIRTH) *

Is there objective moral order

In what we call the universe?

This question is a real ripsnorter

Which some may even think perverse.

My conscience tells me that it’s moral

To pick a theologic quarrel

With born-agains who, like the pope,

Would claim he’s got the holy dope.

It’s false I know but on reflection

The answers of an Alan Gewirth,

Which logically are more than worth

The Pope’s, can offer this conception:

The answer to our moral blights

Lies in Gewirth’s thought on HUMAN RIGHTS.

* Gewirth’s arguments for an objective moral order that is secular in nature are set forth in two books: “Reason and Morality” and “The Community of Rights.”

THE REDNECK SHOP *

“Come down an’ buy confederate goodies.

You’ll get ’em at The Redneck Shop.

We’ll turn your pricks to full-on woodies,

So be a man until you drop.  

In back we got the blackest mammies

Brought back to life by double whammies;

And, boy, until you fucked a black . . .

You know it’s said, “You won’t go back.”

We got a Dixieland bikini;

And pictures that old Adolph signed,

The savior of all white mankind.

We sell a game called Eeny Meene

’bout catching niggers by the toe;

Or makin’ sure they’re on death row.”

* The “inspiration” for this piece comes from an article titled “Uneasy Neighbors in a Southern Gothic Tale”  in the NYT dated January 13, 2012.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/13/us/in-laurens-sc-the-redneck-shop-and-its-neighbor.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper

FOR THE MITT

Mitt Romney’s has “tycoon’s acumen,”

A sickness in a businessman.

It guarantees he’s half a human,

The member of a greedy clan

That orders with calm contemplation

That workers give their resignation

Whenever bosses see a need

To pad their corporations’ greed.

He won’t be snagged by chance reflections

When profits for the enterprise

Are down, no matter our demise.

Until the analysts’ projections

Are back on track, he will, with zeal,

Defend the corporate commonweal.

WORDS, WORDS, WORDS (FOR SARAH PALIN)

It was a blustering assertion

But typical of her abuse

Requiring almost no exertion

And really damnably obtuse.

It seemed archaic in its meaning

Because it went its way careening

Off blazoned shield to blazoned shield

Until, as noise, it stood revealed.

She argued with her blunt rusticity

That they be paid blithe disregard,

Though this is often very hard:

For all her words had such simplicity

That when she spoke her own pretense

Would very often make no sense.

FOR RICK SANTORUM

He has apocalyptic vision

And always gets approving smiles

Whenever he makes an incision

Into the liberal men of wiles.

He has an artful adaptation

Of how they’ll suffer condemnation:

If not conservative and white,

They’d be sent to forever’s blight.

And though atrocious in expression,

He has a kind of austere charm

Whenever he spreads his alarm.

He's advocated for repression

Of any who will not adore

His concept of a holy war.

GOSSIP GIRL (MATTIE AND THE HORSE)

She really was a babbling gossip;

But bacchanalian desire

Made Mattie’s acts the perfect toss up

That really set friends’ tongues afire.

She seemed to seek out opportunities

Where she’d indulge her importunities.

She tried averting some disgrace,

Like sharing cum from Grace’s face,

But sometimes was caught in adventures

That made her subject of discourse,

That wouldn’t quit. She fucked a horse!

And finally the gossips’ censures

Was quickened by these acts of sex

So she divorced the horse for Rex.

OCCUPY THE ELECTIONS

Democracy hangs on elections;

But what about the candidates

Who very often are infections

To women or folks gays, not straights?

Or pols who would be an annuller

Of any who are Technicolor;

Or any in the working class

Who will not kiss the boss’s ass.

It doesn’t matter what the party,

Republicans or Democrats,

They’ve all come from the old boys' frats.

Democracy is hale and hearty

When pols come from the 99;

And don’t defend the bottom line.

PORN ON POEMS ON AFFAIRS OF STATE

When I post pornographic ditties,

You’ll ask: How is this politics?

What’s politics to do with titties,

And bravos with their ten inch dicks?

Considering that politicians

Are power-hungry for commissions

From lobbyists, why should you scorn

When now and then I post some porn?

Pols are the really gross obscenities

Because they pander to concerns

Who pay out truly big returns

For their incestuous amenities.

So politics is no first date;        

And pornos are affairs of state.

HANGING TEN

My friend’s MILF mother just popped over,

Returning to me my lost phone;

And then we’re rolling in the clover.

She said she heard I had a bone

That’s really big, a huge ten-incher.

I pulled it out. She didn’t flinch. Her

Tight dress and panties just came off.

Her juices flowed from out her trough.

Next thing I knew, she’s on me fucking

My penis wrapped up in her tits;

Then sticks it down in her cockpit’s

Abyss and then we’re off and trucking.

I plan to lose my phone again

And use her ass while I hang ten.

THE SEX SLAVE (IF WE DON’T HELP, WHO WILL?)

He was affianced to a lady

Who ended his affrighted slave.

Too late she found that he was shady,

When he brought her into conclave

With Catholic priests who were abusive;

And rented her for their exclusive

Sex fantasies. So all night long

They gang-banged her. But she was strong.

And while they “did” her she was praying

That God would free her from their hold.

And then one day she was paroled

To nuns who petted her while splaying

Her legs wide open while they licked

Her pussy till she up and kicked.

THE BIBLE AS A MORAL GUIDE?

The Bible says to love your neighbor;

But also says to kill a queer;  

It says pay justly for day labor;

And then it tells us whom to jeer. 

What if your neighbor’s gay? Or predator?

Would this get past a modern editor?

The Bible as a moral guide

Should surly be more cut and dried.

For how are we to make decisions

About what’s really wrong or right

And know that what we think’s airtight.

Perhaps the Bible needs recisions?

You’d think though an all-knowing god

Could prompt a book that’s not so flawed.

ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT

Her temper was accommodating,

Though she'd almost abandoned hope

Of ever reinvigorating

Her father who'd become a mope.

As if in clouds of anesthetic,

He daily grew more apathetic

Until he tried at suicide

And failed. Now his abated pride

Had plunged into abject submission.

But she had an adaptive wit

And struggled on and wouldn’t quit.

She took him off on expedition

And somewhere on the lower Nile

She fed him to a crocodile.

ETERNAL LIFE IN HEAVEN? (1) AND (2)

Who’d ever want to go to heaven

And stay forever as they are

Without the slightest change to leaven

Their mortal clay is just bizarre.

Don’t think that Heaven’s immortality

Would satisfy our rationality;

How much can any person take

When there is nothing we can’t slake.

To last forever means infinity;

And if you wish to stay the same

Then only you will bear the blame

For being bored. It’s asininity

To not know that each human breath

Is made the sweeter by our death.

BASKING IN GOD’S GLORY: ETERNAL LIFE IN HEAVEN? (2)

And as for basking in God’s glory

So that you lose yourself in Him,

You’ll find that it’s the same old story,

If reasoning is not a whim.

If you’re absorbed in God’s reality,

You’ll have to lose your personality:

For totally absorbed in God,

Means that you lose your mind and bod.

For anything that’s all consuming

Would leave no room for what you are.

So, not yourself, you’d bid bonsoir

To you and then whoever’s rooming

Inside your mind gets room and board.

If not, then you’d go off your gourd.

THE DEBT COLLECTOR

I am your friendly debt collector

Who’s here to rid you of your debt;

So think of me as your protector.

Now listen please and don’t forget:

Don’t ever hang up when I’m calling,

Unless you want to take a mauling.

Whoever said, “Live and let live,”

It wasn’t me. I don’t forgive.

Remember we know where you’re living

And all about the wife and kids . . .

Say why not put them out for bids?

If they don’t want to help by giving,

I know a guy who knows a guy

Won’t be as friendly as would I.

LIVING ON THE (ECONOMIC) FAULT LINE (1)

Each day she hurried home in terror

Because she worried for her kid

Who, home alone, might make an error

(“He’s only 6 so God forbid.”)

Like falling down the stairs and breaking

An arm or leg. She started shaking

Then cried because, “I work health care.

But who’ll help him if I’m not there?

I take the bus for transportation

And sometimes it’s on time . . . or not;

But, even Johnny-on-the-spot,

I’m late three hours in duration . . .

And all that time he’s home alone.

He’s more than life, my corazon!”

WHAT’S THE DIFF?

Is porn a form of prostitution?

For after all they're being paid

For sex; and porn’s circumlocution

In no way means that’s been allayed.

Defend it under free expression,

It’s still the world’s oldest profession;

It’s true they candidly perform

But still that won’t evade the norm.

If porn’s a legal occupation,

Then what about a prostitute

(Except, perhaps, the likes of Newt)  

Whose money’s in closed fornication?         

This double standard is complex,

Unless we “close the books” on sex.

THE CAPITALIST BUSINESS LEADER

What makes a bourgeois business leader

Is that s/he’ll give the old heave ho

To any who try to impede her;

Or, if they have, s/he calls a pro;

Has read her Marx on exploitation;

Knows her gross's expropriation

Is workers’ surplus who produce

A thing that’s valued for its use;

And so s/he screws as much production

From workers any way s/he can

Until s/he needs a new game plan;

In which case s/he goes with construction

Of new machines which s/he’ll confess

Won’t take a break and could care less.

THE “NATIONAL” PAPER OF RECORD?

Who gets their daily news reported

From papers like the New York Times

Will never know that it’s distorted

For people in the social climes

Of upper middle class ambitions

Who’d rather not hear of renditions;

Or how the working class will live

When jobs are leaking like a sieve.

Or go to any other section.

Take, for example, what’s in Style . . .

Is never for the rank and file.

The Book Review could stand inspection

Whenever they review the books

By hacks the likes of David Brooks.

A PRAYER FOR RICK

“My God, please bless our man Santorum

So that he’ll raise Your values high;

And Christians live with some decorum.

Make him your Godly samurai

Who’ll bring the world Your application

Of what You mean by desolation,

Eliminating all the foes

Who’ve led us Christians by the nose.

Help him perform his vivisections

On foes like Islam in Iran;

Or on death panels’ health care plan.

Then let him turn to disinfection

Of marriage for the likes of gays.

Then Rick can launch the end of days.”

FEMALE ACTION STARS: PROGRESSIVE HOLLYWOOD? (1) (FOR ANGELINA JOLIE)

Who’s seen a female action hero

Who isn’t white and paper thin,

Who, weighing almost nothing, zero,

Can always take it on the chin?

If Hollywood is so progressive,

Why is it “looks” that are impressive

And are, on balance, mostly whites

Survive, while others get last rites?

Why animals get more protection

Than women with a plane Jane’s face

Who get picked off before home base.

So they don’t suffer on reflection,

These female action movie stars

Should probably not fight in bars.

THE CONSTITUTION AND THE WILL OF GOD

Who says the US Constitution

Was founded on the will of God,

Believes a New Year’s resolution

Can’t be a case of our self-fraud.

The Constitution’s first priority

Was to ensure inferiority

By making persons who were slaves

Unequals till t’were in their graves.

But God’s Book was egalitarian;

And broke with what the ancients thought, *

Although all that’s now gone for naught.

With help from our Tea Party Aryan,

They now assert it as their right

To damn all persons who aren’t white.

* I take this line of reasoning from CREATED EQUAL by Joshua Berman.

AN ARGUMENT FOR INCEST

On what grounds would you damn consenting

Adults from having sex? Or would

You just go with that they’re assenting

And leave it there, for ill or good?

If so, then why get so tempestuous

And raise a storm when it’s incestuous?

As long as they are both adults

Why should they suffer our insults?

Consent implies it’s not abusive.

And though you think it is taboo

Because it is your bugaboo,                

That argument’s hardly conclusive.

It’s now like saying you’d more than haze

Two lovers just because they’re gays.

EAT CROW AND DIE

“I am an undecided voter

But bow to pressure from my peers.

A friend said one had body odor,

And said another favored queers.

These traits struck me as so pathetic,

Though I'd been mostly apathetic,

That I decided then and there

To be a man and grow a pair.

And so I made a resolution

That I would check out candidates

To see if we agreed on hates.

For voting is an institution

In which you finally have to know

Which candidates will quid pro quo.”

ELECT ME . . .HELP!

I swear I’ll take the oath of office

As President when you elect

A man who’ll promise not to boff us,

Thus injuring our self-respect.

I’m not a man who’s presidential

Although I do have one credential

A person needs for president:

I wouldn’t take a single cent

From CEOs or Wall Street bankers.

And when they try and kill me for

The fact that I won’ be their whore,

I know you’ll show these rightist wankers

What ordinary folks can do . . .

Alas . . . Win a few, lose a few.

WHO SHOULD VOTE?

The right to vote and really voting,

Each falls into a separate class.

The “right” needs no expert emoting

But’s granted to who’d drag their ass

To cast a ballot. For the other,

Who has no feeling for another,

Please stay at home behind your moat

If you would vote what floats your boat.

We live together in communities;   

But, selfishly, you vote the way

You want no matter what foul play

Is done to equal opportunities.

I’m arguing to vote we should

Deliberate the common good.

THEOLOGICAL REALISM

It is the magic of realities

That we can know what’s true or not;

From cataclysms to banalities

(Volcanoes or a drip of snot).

Reality presents solutions

Except, of course, to Lilliputians

Who preach, when things get really odd,

They must be called an act of God.

But God’s the archetype of fiction

Who was created in the days

When we lived in primeval haze

And cowered for His benediction.

But praying to what isn’t real

Is still, now, our Achilles’ heel.

A MODEST PROPOSAL (WITH APOLOGIES TO SWIFT)

Perhaps we should be sacrificing,

As did the Indians, a child *

In hopes that when we’re finished slicing

A candidate who would have filed

As nominee in this election

Will tremble at our vivisection.

Then we might get some candidates

Who keep their word in their debates.

I claim this is a good proposal:

Who ends up as our nominee

Will really be our employee.

If not, then s/he’s at our disposal,

Providing s/he’s free of disease . . .

But now to take RSVP’s.

*An article in Huff Post titled “Indian Police Arrest 2 Men For Sacrificing Child” inspired this post.

RICK, JESUS HAS A MESSAGE FOR YOU

“As president, our man Santorum

Has promised he would bomb Iran

Regardless of a Senate quorum

And do it just because he can.

He thinks it is his Christian duty

To knock all Islam on its bootie.

He laughed and said, ‘If they have nukes

We’ll treat them as non-Christian pukes.’”

These words from Rick’s press secretary

Were uttered to the God of Love

Who went ballistic. “Get rid of

This man. He is reactionary.

Press angel, call the press and say,

‘Who votes for him, them I’ll puree.’”

IS VOTING A CIVIC OBLIGATION?

You have no civic obligation

To cast a vote unless you think

You’re justified by cogitation

That none could say is rinky-dink.

For what’s at stake in our elections,

Deserve we give them deep inspections;

And anyone who can’t do that

Should simply stay at home, a prat.

Who claim that voting is a duty 

No matter what you know or don’t 

Are persons who would not say “won’t” 

Despite a pol’s being Howdy Doody. 

In other words, to get your vote   

They’ll say whatever floats your boat.  

GET A CLUE

America, the institution,

Has finally woken up to class;

And put aside the convolution

That anyone can be THE BRASS.

You’ll never go from rags to riches.

If poor, you’ll keep on digging ditches;

So give it up in favor of

All who’d now give the rich a shove.

Let’s do away with differentials

Then we can build a polity

With no more inequality,

Retarding people’s full potentials.

That’s far more worthy of your dreams . . .

And’s fun to hear rich people’s screams.

LEAD US NOT INTO DEBT

When humans lived in times primeval,

A debt was what was owed the gods;

Then money brought us great upheaval

With banks and usurers and odds.

As well, with money’s first invention,

It brought us human hypertension

As debt became the money owed

Because it’s prompted by a goad.

If debt grew from our first morality 

In honor to the gods on high

For giving us pie in the sky,

How is it now the commonality

(On empty stomachs!) drudge and sweat

To be led deeper into debt?