Tag Archives: satire

ALL OUR CURRENT

ALL OUR CURRENT

All our current
antichrists

happen to be worse by far
than the archetype back there
in the Book of Revelation

all our latter-day demons
more demonic in essence
than any cast out
in holy parable or
Biblical Tale

and these in
plain view or
under government top secret

but truth
will out
     so just
scratch the surface

with flesh-cutting scalpel
used in sanctioned
medical experiments

on the maruta of
Pingfang, or the Polish women
at Ravensbruck

or, closer to home, the
hypodermics used in
the bastion of democracy

to inject the other with syphilis,
give people
their plutonium shots

hunting for the mirror
in which to see their own depravity

the immunity given
to these pioneers
             true
demonic complete redemption

all our current antichrists
God bless them all this Easter.

XENO POEMS

XENO POEMS

1.  SUN

the xenomorphs
were playing
in the Sun

having such fun – –
    I did not think
biological creatures could
survive such. unseasonably
high
    temperatures at the heart of
the corolla

****

2.  BOOK

the xenomorph
was reading me
like a book

a Lovecraft book
one which
         turns its
own pages
tiny tentacles reaching out
from inside the book itself

****

3. FOOD

the xenomorph
shared its, food with me

after which, as act
of reciprocity,
shared me
with its food

****

4. CHOIR PRACTICE

The xenomorphs
having attainef consciousbess

found
religion

are gathered together
to conduct a huge debate
whether to
crucify, or
simply burn at the stake

the worst of all heretivs, apostates and sinners
and those
                 habitually
late for
     choir practice

****

5.  WAR

humans sent a delegation
to the xenomorphs

attempting to
civiluze them
moderate
their savagery

teach them the
gentle art
of human warfare

annihilating cities,
with state of
the art
    weapons

fire
   and forget

aimed at targets
thousands of
miles away

so
   casualties
not an issue








SUDDENLY SOVIET

SUDDENLY SOVIET

suddenly one morning
woke up transformed
no old
nostalgia for
Cold War days
but fully newborn
Soviet

ready to
assume my place
as Commissar, apparatchik, or
on the sly, samizdat
publishing
poetic
dissident

that the West
would fete, and defend
and love

until
    Glasnost days and
the walls all fell

at which 
(so quick
to change their mighty tune)
suddenly

they
didn’t

HEAVENLY

HEAVENLY

torture is Heavenly
after the rapture
you will have all
of blessed eternity
to devise the most
thrillingly painful
horrendous
punishments
to dole out
meatily
to the enemies of God
and the Nation we
are sworn to offend

how beautiful
it is, and feels, to
be one
thousand thousand
percent correct, utterly
holy and forever righteous,
given complete
carte blanche
to crush underfoot
bend to
our will

for
what matter
if a man
destroy the world
but lose his soul

the destruction of the world
always part of the plan

FIRESIDE CHAT

FIRESIDE CHAT

you thought it would be
a great idea, a jaunty
self – promotion
to give
us a fireside chat

be we all
got incinerated

before which
you told us a great joke
which you were sure
we would love,
respond with ratings-
boosting love
whose punchline just
so happened to
be that
we were all now at war,
update, quick correcton:
that we were
all dead in the war

nevertheless, we loved it,
your aporoval rating
simply shot through
the roof,
the recently-remodelled
trillion dollar roof and ceiling

whereupon
it went ballistic, fully hypersonic,
caught us terminally ill-
prepared as it
did shoot us
in the foot, and
running to you for
not in our price range, not
in any price range medical cover

you droned on at liberty
focusing on the extremity of doubt
written across the touch-screen
of all our citizen faces

swearing it was all AI,
we had been duped by
the extremely accurate powers
of falsification
generated in some
secret hostile media bunker
by pretty terrible
election-
stealing, fake
narrative AI

being dead, however,
we were by no means able
to respond to
or comment on the veracity of that

burnt to death
by your fireside chat

THOSE LITTLE GIRLS

THOSE LITTLE GIRLS

let us not
be too hasty
to condemn

let us not
rush to conclusions

little girls now
all of them I do
believe under
the age of ten

but give them
another ten, twenty years
who knows, who can forsee,
what they might not
grow up as,
horribly change into

who can show me
their note books,
their sjetch pads

assure me
there everything is
as the weepy weak press
are telling us

pictures of Mom and Dad
the sun, the tree, a house,
a swing, a cat
themselves
     in their best dress

little poems and prayers
celebrating life
and love

like normal little girls
our Western girls

and not, as I am more
inclined to believe,
curses and tirades
calls for
   a world full
of destruction
and death

drawings of drones, pictures
of missiles raining down
vengeance on
bad bad cities
ballistic rockets shooting
up into space
with (drawn in red
red
   blood red crayon)

blood red noses
and fiery tales

who
can dispute this
deny
this possibility?

the evidence
disappeared

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.