WHO HAS THE GOLD MAKES THE RULES

America’s “best” politicians,

Deep pockets all with bucks to burn,

Get television’s expositions

And yet the voters never learn.

A TV spot is so confining:

Can hide a pol who’s always whining;

And yet he’s never gloomy Gus,

As PAC men fill our heads with pus.

Gorged bank accounts will win elections.

The Court has made this dream come true

So now there’s nothing we can do 

To stop the rich from their selections.

Democracy takes megabucks,

So pols treat us like we're  “hockey pucks.”

TAX THE CHURCHES BEFORE THEY TAX YOU

I say we tax religion’s churches.

If they refuse to pay their tax,

Then we should knock them off their perches

And give their preachers forty whacks:

Because they foster inequality

Among the members of the polity:

For tax breaks serve the superrich.

This is the megachurch’s pitch:

“We preach the gospel of prosperity.

To do that we need ten percent

Of gross. If you can’t pay your rent,

Rely upon faith, hope, and charity.

And if you’re still stuck in a mess

Why you should give us more and God will bless.”

LIBERAL HOLLYWOOD?

It’s time for re-evaluation

Of how progressive Hollywood

Is when it comes to advocation

Of voting for the just and good.

It’s not to say some aren’t progressive

’Gainst policies that are repressive;

But Hollywood as a town is

Concerned with one thing: that’s the biz.

As businesspersons they’re rapacious:

Fight union contracts; female stars

Are forced to suck on their cigars.

In short, it simply is fallacious

To think they’re from the 99

When all they really fear’s their bottom line.

THE PENALTY FOR VOTING STUPIDLY

Does politics need more philosophy?

The answer I propose is: yes.

I gladly pay a Mafioso fee

To “hit” on those could not care less.

Who cannot make informed decisions

But rather judge by television’s

Ads who’s the better qualified

I’d have them taken “for a ride.”

This is a drastic intervention;

But voters need to understand

That when they vote they take a hand

In how the country’s run. Prevention,

Of who won’t vote the common good,

Is just. A dunce must be withstood!

ARE EVANGELICALS A NATIONAL SECURITY THREAT?

Evangelical Christianity

Will always put religion first

Because they think that all humanity,

Without their God is surely cursed.

And so they know there’s impropriety

Allowing for devout variety

Because religion and the state

Are one. Of that there’s no debate.

And none, therefore, dare call it treason

Eliminating all non-whites,

For they’re the ones who’ve brought these blights.

And so it simply stands to reason

You cannot worship foreign gods

Without deserving their death squads.

THE LAW AS SUPERSTITION

I don’t see why our superstitions

Can’t be the bases of our law;

With courts and lawyers as magicians

Enchanting us with blah, blah, blah.

In church we let our charming preachers

Conjure away all evil creatures;

And Jews, from out their magic book,

Say what we can and cannot cook.

Not only in the God’s communities

Do we search out what’s wrong or right

To keep us safely through the night.

The state, too, orders opportunities:

The LAW bewitches bankers’ loans

Transmuting them to our home groans.

WHY DO WE HATE THE POOR?

Why do we have such bad reactions

To any mention of the poor?

Is it because we think our actions

Are always anything but sure?

In other words, we just got lucky

And that’s the reason things are ducky.

Why do we think they’re beasts of prey

Who pray for handouts from our pay?

Or is it our most Christian nation

Forgot their homeless Jesus was

Accounted by His “betters” scuzz?

At any rate, our allocation

Of hatred for the poor won’t bide:

There’s more of them than us worldwide.

FAITH ZOMBIES (IDIOT AMERICA 2)

For God we challenge evolution,

Politically a savvy move,

And would amend the Constitution

(And know our Lord God would approve)

To force who think that our Creation

Derived from some four-eyed crustacean,

Or monkeys swinging in the trees

To beg His mercy on their knees.

And once they’ve made a good confession

They’ll join us in the Ranks of Love

Who glorify the God above;

Then help destroy all whose profession

Is science based, for we’re resolved

To finish off the uninvolved.

THE ETHICS OF VOTING

Incompetent decision-making,

Defined as “what will float my boat,”

You’d hardly think would be earthshaking

Except when it comes time to vote.

For voters have an obligation

To give their vote some cogitation;

And figure in the common good.

But voters’ heads are made of wood!

Not grounded in facts or morality

But mostly ignorant and base

Without a sense of common place,

They cannot use impartiality

To help them make decisions that

Are rooted in the democrat.

A BRIEF PROFESSION OF CHRISTIAN POLITICS

Political decision makers

Should use the Bible to decide

If humanists and God-forsakers

Should be condemned and crucified.

They should be held for trial and stoning 

For arguing the Virgin’s boning;

Denying Christ the Risen Son

As Jew would or Mohammedan.

The Bible is the one Authority

That we can count on to command

America, the Holy Land.

We are the God’s moral majority:

So Christians say who’s friend or foe 

Because “the Bible tells us so.”    

TEA PARTY DEATH?

Tea Party voters are diminishing

Because they’re lunatics who are

Off mission such as really finishing

(And this is truly so bizarre)

The chances that the Dem Obama

Would fail the economic trauma.

He has. But now the point is moot

Because of Perry, Bachmann, Newt.

Who doesn’t know that this election

Is all about the unemployed.

Their candidates are all schizoid

And totally have lost connection

To anything but spending cuts.

And dunces vote to kiss their butts?

REPUBLICAN IMMIGRATION POLICY “?”

The members of the Grand Old Party

Have argued it’s illicit for

An immigrant who is a smarty

And fought our latest foreign war

To go to college on tuition

That citizens pay for admission.

(A truly useless exercise

When all tuition’s on the rise.) 

It’s meant to fluster immigration

Which never ever will be done

For lives in constant 911.

So why encourage aggravation?

When what you want is someone’s vote,

It’s stupid not to float their boat.

ARE CATHOLICS RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING? (A BOOK REVIEW)*

The terrors of the Inquisition,

Says Coren, weren’t the Church’s fault;

But says extremes in its ambition

Lay squarely in the bankers’ vault. 

The Scientific Revolutions

Indeed had Catholic contributions;

And as for fighting in Crusades:

To take their homelands back from spades.

But most of all and most “compelling”

He says the Holocaust of Jews

Was fought against. That’s surely news!

What I don’t get is underselling

A problem (that leaves Catholics awed)

Is proving that there’s any God.

* This is my review of Michael Coren’s book Why Catholics Are Right.

THE DISAPPEARING GAMER

1

One day a dauntless cyber warrior

Sat down at his computer screen

To seize and hold Helen of Troy. Her,

Whose likes the world had never seen.

When suddenly from his reality

A cyber door, to her locality,

Was opened and it sucked him in

Her captive now, to his chagrin.

“Who are you fools who keep intruding

To fight the wars fought long ago?

You haven’t had enough gung ho?”

He whimpered, crying “My transmuting

Was not my doing. That I swear.”

But, turning, saw his empty chair.

2

And as he looked the door was closing

But not before he saw his wife

As she walked in, saw him transposing.

She shouted, “Fool, not on your life.

You can’t escape from me that easy.

You never even tried to please me.

Who is that bitch that’s sitting there?”

The queen slid from her royal chair

And standing said, “Oh stop your bitching!

How is it that he doesn’t please?”

“His dick is to the nth degrees.

Go look and see. It’s so bewitching.”

So Helen looked, saw his big ten

And welcomed it inside her den.

3

A cyber door from this reality

Was opened up to get him back

From out the Trojan principality

But failed. The aphrodisiac

Of love slave to the gorgeous Helen

(Though held in chains as if a felon)

Was too much for him to resist.

“Who’d think of giving up a tryst,”

He thought, “With one who’s so adorable . . .”

When suddenly he heard a snore

That sounded like a dragon’s roar;

And thinking that this was deplorable

Sat bolt upright but gave a scream

When he discerned he’d had a dream.

A BORDER FENCE?

Who’d halt illegal immigration

Must build a fence so high and wide

The Berlin Wall in aspiration

Was merely commonplace bromide.

And then, of course, you’d need sharp shooters

To take out women who’d be "brooders"

Of “anchor babies” since you’ve sworn

They won’t be to the manner born.

To make sure that it’s petrifying

You’d sow the border with land mines

To let them know they’ve crossed deadlines.

In other words, you're terrifying

The economic refugees

Who’ll do your work just as you please.

A CLIMATE CHANGE MACHINE?

They tell me that the climate’s changing.

But what am I supposed to do

Before it starts in rearranging

The world? Is it a bugaboo?

If it’s so bad then men of science,

And women, should build an appliance

That limits carbon in our air

Before we’re in intensive care.

I’m not a climate change denier

But if we wait on politics

We’ll all have crossed the river Styx

Before the final nullifier

(Mother Nature) breathes our bad breath

And sentences humans to death.

AN ARGUMENT FOR EQUAL PAY FOR EQUAL WORK

Is it unfair a porn performer

(The stars, that is,) are always girls

Or women? What of those who storm her

Vagina? Are they merely churls

Paid pittance for their humble labors

Despite the fact their fleshy sabers

Are needed for the final act

Of all non-lesbian contact?

Imagine all the situations

That wouldn’t work because a man

Was not there in the screenplay’s plan.

A strap on might help conjugations

(But's only tempest in a cup)

Becuse there’s nothing to clean up!

CANDIDATES FOR WHAT?

Who cares for GOP contenders

For president or Democrats

(Despite their pseudo PC tenders)

Should know both parties serve high hats.

Why even President Obama,

Whom once we worshipped as the Brahma,

Created nothing to depress                      

The greed they’ve labeled as success.

So what, you ask, is my solution?

We are the 99%

Who must go further than dissent

And break the bonds of constitution,

Thus panicking the promise of

Their profits, lending us self-love.

GOOGLE AND THE BANKS (OR TRUTH IN ADVERTISING)

From out the screen she grabbed my penis

And stuck it up her dripping twat

So there was nothing else between us.

She even strangled down my, “What?!”

By smothering my mouth with kisses;

And finishing she said, “This bliss is

Bestowed on you in cyberspace

To open an account with Chase.

I said, “You mean it’s advertising?”

She said, “Hey, dude, that’s what we do

To hook a customer like you.

If you should think that is surprising ,

With your account you get an app

Gives access to my tender trap."

NO SYMPATHY FOR LINDSAY

Are Lindsay Lohan’s troubles over

Means will she ever be a star

And once again roll in the clover

Of movie fame? Is it bizarre

That someone with her acting talents

Could ever be knocked off her balance?

That’s what her acting skills are for.

And yet I wish to underscore

That acting is an occupation

That brings with it just loads of stress

Can land you in an awful mess.

It makes you nervous your creation

Won’t fly again. So you do drugs;

And sell the rights to flash your jugs.

IN PRAISE OF GIRLIE MAGAZINES (OR HOW I LEARNED TO READ)

When I was just a middle schooler

I couldn’t read and write so well;

My parents thought I was a drooler

Until one day in our motel

They sent me out to do room cleaning;

And as I did I found while leaning

Under a bed a Playboy stash

And saw the model’s naked gash.

So after ogling her picture

I tried to read her interview

But didn’t have the slightest clue.

Till I remembered teacher’s stricture:

“That’s what the dictionary’s for.”

So kept them in my bedside drawer.

FOR INSTAGRAM (iPHONE APP OF THE YEAR)

I make up silly applications

For folks who want to use their phone

To satisfy their aspirations

Their lives won’t evanesce, unknown.

You see them with these iPhone features

That makes them out as social creatures:

They tell you when they want a nap,

Or when they have to take a crap.

And then you see it as a posting

On Twitter, Tumblr, or Facebook,

Their very private public nook.

I’d rather this not sound like boasting,

But they, for certain, made me rich

By helping show them scratch an itch.    

IN PRAISE OF SELF-DECEPTION

I’d rather not fight self-deception.

Since it's extremely useful for

Defending what my sense perception

Tells me won’t happen anymore:

Like fooling with a female hottie

Whom now I download for a body.       

No longer young, I’d not assuage

The fact that I can’t act my age.

I’m like the dreamer, Walter Mitty;                                     

And like him I prefer my dream

To liven me with self-esteem,

Like having sex and being witty.

And so I’ll go with self-deceit,          

If I must beat a fast retreat.

THE HACKER AND THE SIRENS

1

A hacker, knowing his computers,

Was so absorbed downloading porn,

Especially those with girls whose hooters

Were double Ds and native born,

He didn’t notice when these sirens

Invaded his mind/brain’s environs

Until he felt a silky mouth

Begin to suck him off down south!

He knew that this must be a virus;      

But where the devil was it from

He asked himself in clouds of cum?

The sirens said, “You may acquire us

And live with us in paradise

By joining us in this device.”

2

He knew somehow (by intuition?)

That what the women said was true:

The virus granted him admission

Into a world he’d not eschew. 

Gone would be days when all his wanking

Would be performed by his hand-cranking

His penis. And the very best

Would be to feel each lovely breast.

But knowing virtual reality         

Was like an image in a mirror:     

You moved away, you’d disappear;  

And so his individuality                    

Would live somewhere in cyberspace.

But who could fight a porn star’s grace?

3

But still the hacker hesitated,

Afraid forever he’d be lost;

Though he’d escape what he most hated:

A world where everyone was bossed.

It so offended his mentality,

That bossing helped define reality,

He stopped and thought what he might do

To reconstruct the world anew.

Not giving up for lack of trying,   

He thought the world could go to hell.

(It was a place it would know well.)

And so he joined them, occupying

A special site in cyberspace

Was free for work he could embrace.

WHY I LOVE THE BIBLE

We praise a God Who’s homicidal

Against those who oppose commands

(That some might think are genocidal)

By doing as our Lord commands:

Like giving over to His slaughter

Who wouldn’t rape a heathen’s daughter;

Or giving up, for His bloodshed,

A man who’d share a marriage bed

With other men. We’d gladly torture

All people who won’t praise our God

By giving them a cattle prod,

That’s heated up till it’s a scorcher,

And plunging it in their behinds.

The Bible simply blows our minds.

A METAPHOR FOR REPUBLICAN POLICY

I went outside and was astounded

Encircled by a mist so thick

That suddenly I was confounded

When from behind I felt a prick.

I reached behind and grabbed the boner

And told him I could use a loaner;

Then stuck it in my pussy’s grot

Where right away it hit the spot.

The feeling then was so delightful

I thought that I might lose my mind

Until it moved to my behind.

I thought, if he’d been more insightful,

He would have known the GOP’s

Pols fucked me there with STDs.

PROSTITUTES FOR NEWT

In 66, I was a hippie

Did drugs, danced nude, and fought the war;

Then settled down to be a chippy

And started working as a whore.

I got the men to do my bidding

By helping me, although unwitting,

To rid them of their prudish ids

By drugs then do what Katie bids.

And then computers were invented

And with it business went forlorn,

Since these machines promoted porn.

So gave up whoring and repented.

And now I am a person who

Pied pipes for Newt, my, “Honey, do . . .”

I'M NEWT GINGRICH AND I APPROVED THIS AD

THE OLD MAN AND THE DEMON

1

The old man was a junk collector.

It’s what he did when he retired.

Until he came across a specter

That gave you anything desired.

It rose from out an ancient vessel

And challenged him. If he’d arm wrestle,

And won two out of three, It would

Give unto him fulfilled manhood.

The old man though refused the bargain

But wrestled with It anyway

And won. “You’ll live another day,”

The demon said. “My name is Gargan.

Why won’t you have your wish fulfilled?”

The old man said, “Then I’d be killed.

2

“Unless, of course, you’re more specific

On what it means to be fulfilled.”

“You’ve got me. It would be horrific.

And certainly you'd have been killed.

Now since you saw through my deception,

I’m forced to honor your conception

Of anything you wish for now

And grant it as my sacred vow.”

The old man had an ugly daughter

Who lived with him. (His wife was dead.)

And so he took it in his head

To have her cured. And, having brought her,

He asked the jinn to make her fair

And live a life without a care.

3

The demon did as he requested

But not before It asked him if

He really wanted her divested

Of how she looked? “Why in a jiff,”

The old man said. “Then she can marry

And live a life that’s customary.”

The demon honored his request

And made a girl delight caressed.

But suddenly the old man’s feeling

Was disappearing with his breath

And he was certain of his death.

Disgusted at the dirty dealing,

He asked It, "Why?"  "I made her fair

And took away her only care.”