HYPOCRISY

6-6-6

9-9-9

One night the devil was conversing

With his expectant Herman Cain,

When suddenly he started cursing

And Herman thought, “I’m down the drain.”

“Please, Brother,” Herm said, “on the level

I promised you I’d raise the devil.

And you can see I’ve kept my vow.

What more can I do for you now?”

“You promised me a devilocracy,”         

Old Satan said.  “With me in charge.

And you ambassador-at-large.

And so I curse you for hypocrisy.”        

“But, Satan, in our politics

You can’t flat tax at 6-6-6.”

                     

OCCUPY AMERICA: COMMUNISM

The trouble with all this dissenting

Is that they think we’ll go away

Because there’s been no time cementing

What we mean when we holler “nay.”

We need a focal adversary

And rise up revolutionary;

To show them that we’re not effete          

And kick their asses on the Street.

By that I mean the wealthy bosses

Whose money powers Democrats,

Republicans, and all high hats

Who cut us loose to save them losses.

Who doesn’t know when they’re done for

A “nay” will mean no rich or poor.

WHAT OCCUPY WALL STREET IS ALL ABOUT

A union president was freaking

About demands his workers made;

It seems as if what they were seeking

Was more than pay that made the grade.

They wanted lives where insecurity

Would far outlive their kids’ maturity;

Were willing to fight civil wars

To make the bosses dinosaurs.

The president said inequality

Was what a job was all about.

But he was drowned out with a shout

That argued for a workers’ polity.

The president begged they’d retreat.

They clamored back: “Death to Wall Street.”

THE LIVING DEAD

 A grave in which some politicians     

Were buried, we thought they were dead,

Was opened by academicians

Who found what can’t be left unsaid:

Each surly pol had long been waiting

To get a chance at advocating

Ideas which, when said and done,

Would set the world back to square one.

Among the living dead: Rick Perry,

Obama, Romney, Bachmann, Cain,

And others who were inhumane.

When asked how they’d survived Death’s ferry,

They said the ferryman could tell

Politicos who’d ravage Hell.

SAVING THE AMERICAN ECONOMY (1929-2011)

I won’t stay past his next election,

Which any fool can see he’ll win.

I must allay my disaffection

Or else I’ll surely pull the pin.

You just can’t help this guy, Obama.

His hero is the Dali Lama!

You try invoking this and that;

But how to be a Democrat . . .!

Can you imagine . . . Democratic,

The party of old FDR

Who used to be our guiding star.

Obama thinks the diplomatic

Will help avoid a World War III.

It goes against our pedigree!

THEOCONS UNITED: A CALL FOR A MANIFESTO

If we are banded all together,

Then we will be above the law;

Because our Lord says He’ll untether

Us all and help us spread His awe.

We’ll force the liberals to start praying

Or liquidate them for nay saying

About our call to instigate

The union of the church and state.

A theoconic manifesto

Will help uphold at any cost

This stand of ours to see who’s bossed

By whom.  And if they are, then presto,

We’ll show the liberals who’s boss;

Or slaughter them upon a cross.

THE PRIZE

How can a man who’s just a poet

Be honored with a Nobel Prize?

If I were he, I’d tell them, “Stow it

Till you can look me in the eyes

And tell me that what you’ve been reading

Has changed the world and stopped its bleeding.

Till then all words are merely mud

That covers life, nipped in the bud.

To see the nature of reality

Your words must free the people to

Eliminate the class snafu

That’s left them drudging in banality.

Accepting prizes for a game

Is one thing but . . . the other’s lame.”