Tag Archives: satire

UNTOUCHABLE

UNTOUCHABLE

politically
I am untouchable

pregnant
with bold ideas

in your face
about to
drop a
truth bomb

many megaton
nothing your battery
of lies,
weapons of
disinformation
can do about it

no hope of
saving yourself
building deep
underground
anti-truth bunkers

the truth radiation
will get it
if not
the unbelievable
shock wave
flash of a million
degree light

CHOSEN

CHOSEN

Thank you Bibi
for choosing me

epic fury
roaring line

hearing those names,
feel safer already

protecting me
iron dome
nuclear
umbrella

all your power
aiding
and abetting

felt so
insecure
in this parallel universe
cartoon world
where
nothing makes sense
no sanity, not any

terrified that
a stray missile
or drone
homing in
on me
got my name
written on it

bound
to cut
me down
        to size, or
worse fate entirely

I tell
you no lie,
no lies
in my armoury.

IN OUR HOUR OF NEED

IN OUR HOUR OF NEED

so these are
our great leaders
the one we asked for,
begged for, swore
binding oaths
we would give
our lives
in the holy
protection of

most sacred symbols
creme de la creme

steering Ship
of State between
Scylla and
Charybdis

charting the perfect
course to ensure
the entire crew gets
devoured by
the former
before the Ship
itself gets
swallowed by
the latter
pulverized into
microscopic
perhaps subatomic bits

no fear
no fear
     enough spin
doctors on the shore
think tanks well
bunkered
to call this
what it no doubt is:
perfect solution;
strategic victory

reassure us 100, 200,
3000% in our
our need

and yet
our poets and philosophers
(bless them) the ones
already marked for death camps
but presently well
and living

try to
get through to us
contact us to
tell us

all
  common sense
is now
gone to Hell

something so fucked up
about our evolution

and all our voting, political,
social, economic
and natural selection processes

centuries we had
to see
    for ourselves, live
and learn

tragedy we didn’t

WITH EVERY DAMNED THING

WITH EVERY DAMNED THING

look what happens
when you put pressure
squeeze everything
you can out
of us ordinary humans

reduce the quality further
of our less, than stellar lives

force us
to turn within
find what
we can all bring
to the party

fish for and
snare
what stories. fables,
myths, legends,
and, dare
I say it?, poetry
that we are sitting on
that we
have always hosted

and, to give
supreme benefit
of the doubt,

try to
touch your heart

believing it not
irredeemable, for
argument’s sake

but of course, as you have
gathered, as we have
always gathered nothing there

bereft of empathy
devoid of
understanding, no
place
for anything but
profit and greed

and a polished ideology
premised on a need
to never let anyone
smell
let alone see (in
all its abject glory) such
ceaseless hypocrisy

at which
revelation

we sigh, close ranks, recite
poems, tell our stories

back to
work
putting pen to paper
hit you with every damned
thing we got

NOW I SEE/PRISTINE

NOW I SEE/PRISTINE

It’s not
the Sistine Chapel

no,
more a pagan temple
more suited to
demon worship

having a lovely
forbidden cult time

God knows where
they got their hellish
iconography from
avatars
of extreme
bad taste

bet they didn’t get
it in a single impromtu
haul by
way of incognito
trip to Walmart

much mix ‘n match
mythology up
in fresco (alfresco)
as long
   as it conjures up
chaos, destabilizes,
vaguely terrifies

have
to ask the angels
(better angels
of all our natures)
regarding the sound
proofing
and how much
scream dampening

thick
as the armour on
a Tiger tank I guess
no one not invited
does not
need to hear a thing

and starting with Sistine
falling with
   absolute loss
of grace from there

now I see
(Oh, how I see)
what billionaires think
of in secret, in private,
in their self-
owned 747s, self-owned
off-shore islands
when they
hear the word “pristine”

and with that rhyme chime
time to draw our
paparazzi portrait
of what
Edenic landscapes, sexual
configurations
    float unfiltered but
fatally contorted
into theit imagination machines

with all that money  – – whisper
shout proclaim
that word
   for all eternity, for the
sum total of the poor,
shabby lifetimes
            of us in
the 99.9

with all that money
Cheops pyramids of money
nothing in
   or between Heaven and Hell
you cannot have, make real.

THUNK IT

THUNK IT

academics in the files?
who would
have thought it,
thunk it?

mirror me this
mirror to mirror
what is
the academy to
the narcissism
of ideas?

what reverse alchemy
at work here
turning gold
into base metal
turning base
metal into
something
far worse

turning billions of U. S.
into something unspeakable

turning
     the final dream of
community
into a confederacy of
Caligulas

and there as touchstones
sextants to
navigate such
progress

Professors of every
discipline and indiscipline
from triple X
to Zee

our Alphas, Betas
and outright Omegas

there on the island gowned
for the occasion
fiddling with
what bit they know of
intellectual apparatus

performing research
for the
    benefit of mankind on
the most unwilling of subjects

walking subtexts we
need to read
from below, behind
and between the lines

until, with
deadening “thunk”
the truth is right there

POOR OLD

POOR OLD

poor old
dystopia
what is
there
left to say

sadly, can
no longer
be science
fiction creature
of dark imagination

your evil
become so ordinary,
everyday, run
of the mill, super tawdry,
ultra banal

here is
Hannah Arendt
left
     totally gob-
smacked
  
nothing to add to
the discourse, not
a single
    cutting to
the heart erudite
contribution

to capture the moment
define the terrain