POEM FOR 2003. . .
When in the course, humans become events
And life and liberty pursue happiness
Which has quite a lead, probably insurmountable
It becomes necessary
To live under freeways brought to you by Sara Lee
And open your gullets for demographers
Who force feed you high fructose corn sweetener
And Michael Jackson
And taut hindquarters
And call it the free market
That you participate in out of free will
When the market isn't so free anymore,
And the principal surviving free will out was a poor killer whale that recently died
of loneliness
Plus a few holdovers from individuality
When in the course, events become inhuman
As in man's inhumanity to man
By the way, if I had a manatee, I'd name it Hugh, or maybe even N period Hugh
But the manatees are nearly gone now, along with free Willy
So it isn't likely I'll name one
Of course, if you listen to Repugnicans, there are no endangered species
Of course, if you listen to Repugnicans, you have no business naming a manatee anyhow
When in human the course becomes event. . .
Round and round the dull wary Bush
The money chase the oil
The Prez thinks that morality's fun
Bechtel gets all the spoils
(By the way, if Manfred Mann gave a manatee named N. Hugh to Thomas Mann,
It would be Mann's N. Hugh Manatee to Mann)
When in the event, of course, humans
Become necessary
Be sure and let me know.
Bush doesn't read the papers because he wants to avoid opinion,
Well, THERE'S one he didn't avoid,
Those newspapers scare the bejeezus out of the Prez
Who is, of course, trying to be Jesus
Better call an Orange Alert, because the Prez is frightened of newspapers
Get Patrick McGoohan and unleash that roaring balloon, Karl Rover, but quick!
Orange Alert! Orange Alert!
And flush out all calico cats before Ashcroft enters the building
Where am I?
You are Number Six.
Who are you?
Dick Cheney is the new Number Two
I am not a number, I am a free microchip implant!
Where is McGoohan when you need him?
When in the corpse of necessary humans, it becomes eventful
Old Mort Sahl said World War II probably saved the world,
Then he added, "for what, I'm not sure. Everything is movies and music."
And lo, Terry Gross was perplexed by Mort, and lo, Mort was perplexed by a society
predicated on
Life, liberty, the the pursuit of Britney Spears' ass and Tom Cruise's teeth
And I agree with Mort on this one
Course in the when, humans necessary the events
Bible-bangers declared a "war for the souls of Iraqis"
There was already a war for their hearts and minds, see, so all the
Bible-bangers had left to declare war on was the soul
Wonder if the Iraqis want anyone to declare war on their souls
Wonder if the "Christians" are planning to declare war on Saddam's soul
Maybe they want to convert him, too
Maybe Saddam will be born again and Pat Robertson will baptize him naked in the
Mississippi
And we'll all sing Iraq of Ages
With Condolleeza at the piano
And Ann Coulter on drums
In 2004, only one thing is shore
There's gonna be more
Iraq around the clock
I raq, you raq, we all raq, for Iraq
We will, we will Iraq you
Because the administration is off its Iraq-er
Between Iraq and a hard place
When in the horse of Cuban prevents
You know you're in trouble when the Pope calls for a New World Order
That can stop U.S. unilateralism
You know you're in trouble when Richard flashes his Perlies and the Wolfman bays in the
White House
And Karl treats Bush like Rover
Mend in the force of bloomin' events
The war on terror is terrifying
9/11, 7/11, what's the difference?
Mini-nukes, put up your dukes
Why does the Midwest care about the Middle East?
We're all lost in Middle-Earth
Oil's well that ends well
We're oil going to Halliburton in a handbasket
Bend in the source of Hugh Downs air vents
I keep waiting for the Marx Brothers to show up and save the day
I keep waiting for Oprah Winfrey to turn out to be a hoax
I keep waiting for people to stop talking about Jesus Jesus Jesus
I keep waiting for Dr. Phil to be arrested for cruelty to animals
I keep waiting for someone to stop all this 2000 business and fix the clock so it starts
with 19 again.
---Charles Bogle
|
