Bleed to Death

These somewhat connected jubilees of violence—
A bit of Hollywood, a bit of PNAC,
A bit of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
Let’s take a swim in dystopia.
Political niceties that inevitably lead
To murderers occupying high office—they
Must like it that way.
It’s a system that suits them.
Building shelves in the secrets of your heart—
Concoct a ribbon ready to be cut, not with a
Pair of scissors but a razor blade.
Tap dancing until Tuesday and then we’re ready to go,
But no let’s wait till Wednesday.
One two three, get ready get set…

One two three, get ready get set…

Give me some ice I’ve got a headache.
Come, let’s do the bread and circus tango.
Let’s elect another murderer to
Office and see if that helps.

Subsistence in an ocean of dead plankton,
Discrepancies of cargo,
But all the mourners are in the boat,
All dressed in black.
Was it another false flag?
Who would think such a thing?
The official murderer-appointed commission
Formed to investigate the matter
Determined it was the work of fanatical
Logophiles, and you know, of course, only a nut-case
Conspiracy theorist would even think
Of questioning their version of events.

I’m not going to answer your questions.
Really? Did you know we have your mother
And sister in a cell in this same building?—
Frank Fontaine, duplicitous detective from
The Department of Droneland Security,
Trained by JINSA in Israel.
The priest looked around, perplexed.
It’s a tad late now.
Ginnie Mae. Ginnie take a ride,
Selling mortgage backed securities
To the gullible, $13.7 trillion worth—
Well it seems plausible…
Look, the only thing you really have to remember
Is just throw the garbage down the stairs
And it will land on the goyim.

Old Stonehappy living in the gasland
Of his own subconscious,
Took an airplane to Winnebago Island
And learned how to twirl the bazooka,
Thought the Russians were coming,
Then it was the Muslims,
Then Al-Qaeda became our best friends,
By which time old Stonehappy,
Thoroughly confused,
Turned the gun to his own head
And pulled the trigger.

It’s the Jews.
It’s not the Jews.
It’s some Jews.
It’s not all the Jews.
Okay it’s some Jews—
So which Jews is it?
It’s the Jews who own the media.
But that’s a racist stereotype.
Well what of it? They still own the media.
Okay, it’s the Jews who own the media.
It’s also the Jewish neocons—
Who aren’t really Jewish.
Well they are, but you’re not supposed
To say they are.
It’s supposed to be irrelevant.
What else are you not supposed to say?
You’re not supposed to deny the Holocaust.
Who made up that law?
It’s not really a law—
Well, it kind of is.
Okay, so I won’t deny the Holocaust;
I won’t say the neocons are Jewish;
I won’t say Jews own the media;
I’ll just say the media have lied us
Into one war after another—I can
Say that, can’t I?
Yeah, you can probably get away with that.
Jews are innocent. People just
Naturally hate them for no reason—
That’s the only possible explanation
For thousands of years of
Expulsions and pogroms. I’m not a racist—
I’ve always been opposed to racism. I’m not
An anti-Semite. Don’t accuse me of that.

It was some unarmed hippies protesting
Wall Street that the police decided to beat up,
Thinking to do so would cleanse the world
For twelve years—one year for each disciple
Of Jesus, including Judas Iscariot.
Some people fail at making distinctions.
The squalor and filth of what was once
The Garden of Eden.
He just wanted to get that needle
Down your throat…like that crystal
Clear thing in the sky that
Nobody sees. And so now we’re putting
Duct tape around all the doors
And windows to keep the bugs out.

Pornography bacon.
Pornography bacon with eggs over easy.
The killer of tomorrow just signed
Another presidential signing statement
Into law. Pornography bacon
In a tefillin-created hell.
Yeah, they like to make their phylacteries wide alright.
Excuse me, I thought you had dismissed
Some of these
Answers and contradictions? Contradictions.
Breathe easier for now, and the blood
Won’t drip so profusely.
In all likelihood there are corners
In space.
I don’t know, doctor, he just started hissing.

The hurry-up forces of humanity,
Hope-children, raspberries, and all that—what can I say?
The ornithologist took his cap off and watched
As the last dove of peace plummeted to the earth
Like a flung cigarette.
There are no more rumors of wars. Just wars.
Wars and an archaeological blueprint
Left by a Jew named Oded Yinon.

It is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is…

The donkeys hate the elephants
The blues hate the reds
We’ll be at the parking lot in forty minutes,
No make that thirty,

It is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is…

And when that happens, the feces will really hit the fan.
St. Barnum’s and Bailey’s…

It is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is…
It is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is…
I am, I am, I am, I am, I am, I am, I am…
I am, I am, I am, I am, I am, I am, I am…

That’s all you have room for,
But there’s time for a drink of water

A poem:

The Trouble with America

The trouble with America
Is it doesn’t
Exist anymore.

Allow me to bring my right foot if you will.

It is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is…
It is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is…
We are, we are, we are, we are, we are, we are, we are…

There’s a cog in Syria and another in Iran
It is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is, it is…
A shooting star flew across the sky
We are, we are, we are, we are, we are, we are, we are…
We are, we are, we are, we are, we are, we are, we are…