Tag Archives: Poetry

RFK Junior and Pop Goes the Measles

He lied to Samoans about the vaccine

He’s Jacked like Vincent Diesel

Thousands infected and 83 dead

Pop goes the Measles!

Unqualified hack and spreader of fear 

A conspiracy quack and a weasel

Watch him tell lies on the Lubbock outbreak

Pop goes the Measles!

Stuffing roadkill in the trunk of his car

An agent of lies and upheaval

“Outbreaks are normal, so don’t be concerned”

Pop goes the Measles!

A child in Texas is dead in the ground

Buried in thistle and teasel

Junior dispenses advice that’s unsound

Pop goes the Measles!

Spit and Gravel

Look at all the fabricated posts

from the father, son, and the wholly most

mother-Zucker serves a roast

and the saluting Nazi gives a toast

“All that matters is what we’ve grossed”

humility dies inside the boast

our nation’s veins become thrombosed

when hate and greed are double-dosed

We need a Dylan of our own

calling out the orange overgrown

fascist fuckwad on his throne

autocratic in his tone

his wind-filled ego overblown

a head that’s crammed with nothing known

as knives cut justice to the bone

he snaps her picture with his phone

he loves how she’s become so prone

to wickedness and testosterone

As lies unfurl and we unravel

As truth gets bashed by the Speaker’s gavel

The blood-soaked trail on which truth travels

gets paved with liar’s spit and gravel

Young People, it’s your Time to Shine

There’s a crook in the race who’s a felon

 all his tweets are full of misspellings

let’s put him in jail

protect pussy and tail

and bid adieu

to his fat ugly melon

Democracies don’t breathe on their own

a voice ain’t the same as a phone

Kamala’s the traction

for you to take action

to keep Donald Trump

from his throne

You walk in the booth and you pull it

you beat him with ballots not bullets

don’t sit on your hands

or wave from the stands

you have to commit to the fullest

Trump’s Veep is creep and a fraud

a populist prick with a sword

beware of JD

he’s cruel and shady

and thinks he’s

the hand of the lord

Our democracy is starting to teeter

we don’t have much time on the meter

walk into the booth

cast a vote for the truth

and swat Trump away

like a skeeter

It’s time for a new generation

to save the soul of our nation

with a foot in the door

you’ll settle the score

And send Trump to his

incarceration

You walk in the booth and you pull it

you beat him with ballots not bullets

don’t sit on your hands

or wave from the stands

you have to commit

to the fullest

I Sea You

I watched the tide roll in last night

perched on the jetty

from which you were taken 

I listened to the nineties grunge playlist

on the iPod they found next to your

rusted tackle box, abandoned pole,

and dented cooler of ocean water and

discombobulated seabass

before heading back to my empty apartment

full of dusty photos of you and me

Bonjour, Borg

Machine learning Chatbots
And neural networking
Generative AI
Is that robot twerking?

Dystopian dice thrower
Orwellian wise
Miss Information and Mr. Disguise

Deep fakes and cupcakes
and fungible tokens
Can’t learn from mistakes
If nothing gets broken

Big data dildos
the tech market thrives
tech moguls huddle
to fuck with AI

A sprint to the finish
But where are we going?
Dimmed and diminished
We’ve no way of knowing

Autonomous AI
we’re lost in the loop
we bob in the broth
like bones in the soup

The question to ask is
where does this lead us?
Robot ranch farmers
to herd and to breed us?

Encrypted and scripted
We sharpen the knives
To give to AI
control of our lives

The Process

He sits in solitude with his paragraph 

an incongruent splash 

of black letters on a white screen

before cracking the silence 

with a rhetorical “Shal we?”  

Like a maniacal blackjack dealer

he shuffles the words

whispering them to himself

listening to their sound

until they click in perfect cadence

and a rolling rhythm is formed

where words formerly choppy

now sway in unison 

 like obedient bulbs 

strung elegantly 

on an idea wire

“Done” he says to himself.

“We’re done.”

MAGA Nation

Culty MAGA members sing

they bend their knee, they kiss the ring

deny they see a naked king

Banning books and fanning flames

toting guns like Jesse James

thoughts and prayers to stop the bleeding

 screaming at a drag show reading

Stripping healthcare, mining coal

pushing myths about the soul

damning those who don’t obey

denying women of their say

 Casting stones, suppressing votes

grab our country by the throat

locked into a MAGA craze

they pull us back to darker days

Drinking Kool-Aid from a cup

yelling up is down!

and down is up!

spinning lies and crafting fables

twist the truth to turn the tables

Deny the facts and praise the liar

collectively they all conspire

to set democracy on fire

Culty MAGA members sing

they bend their knee, they kiss the ring

deny they see a naked king

Dark Day Afternoon

Doomsday Clock https://thebulletin.org/doomsday-clock/

Doomsday just inched a bit closer

So says the clock on the wall

Amused, nihilistic humans   

just waiting for mankind to fall!

We know the problem’s we’re facing

We know what needs to be done

We know that the weapon is loaded

but we like the taste of the gun

We’re ninety seconds from doomsday

So says that guy on the news

“It’s the end of the world as we know it”

A theme song to give us the blues

Doomsday just inched a bit closer

it nuzzles up to the fear in our head

The tick of the clock getting louder

It thickens our fear into dread

Religious to the point of destruction

Tribal to our own self-defeat

Chained to a blood-violent nature

Man and doomsday were destined to meet

When Sorrow Clings to Angel Wings

She made it through the Spanish flu
a million others died
but slipped and fell with scissors held
Oh, how her parents cried

Rorschach’s plume, still in bloom
soaks through her dressing gown
she raps on heaven’s pearly gate
but no one is around

When sorrow clings to angel wings
They might-as-well be clipped
So back to earth
To haunt the house
Where she tripped and slipped

Immortal klutz with lots of cuts
dark shadows on the wall
she roams the house without a spouse
wrapped loosely in her shawl