Trump's  prayer

Let us pronounce a cure. 

Although we are not sure.

Let us submit to ignorance.

Let us remember not to care.

 Let us give praise unto me.

Let us make them submit.

Let us be clear I do not give a shit.

But I love to transmit.

 I have no feelings for anyone.

Except myself my beautiful self.

I love what the mirror reveals.

You have no idea what it conceals.

 I am mighty and all powerful.

I am the king with no crown.

I pass my greatness on.

Nepotism is my renown.

 

 

 

 

 

 De-evolution is real

Devo were the real punks.

You want to talk about the real junk?

You gotta beat it till it's thick.

Their genius was no trick.

Their first album is without peer.

De-evolution is prescient.

We humans are insignificant.

Devo laid it down.

Made us all look like clowns.

De-evolution is real.

They saw through it all.

De-evolution began.

But we weren't paying attention man!

And now we are seeing the cost.

With Devo we were never lost.

 

This country is broken

For the wages of sin,
Our President is all in.
With his callow toady Republicans.
And his money-grubbing evangelical whores.
What's it all for?

This country is broken.
The President does not steer the ship.
Into anything but doom and hippocracy.
He has already burned the flag of democracy.
It is about time his followers were awoken.

He is a snake oil salesman.
He fashions himself a deity.
He is full of false piety.
He holds the Bible like a sword.
But he has never prayed to the Lord.

The President has no core belief.
But he uses Christianity as fodder.
Like lambs to the slaughter.
To arouse angry white people.
For whom prejudice is a steeple.

The meek will never inherit the Earth.
But he shouts it out for all he is worth.
That is the myth he likes to promote.
For him to appeal to the downtrodden.
Is the sickest of all jokes.

I have fallen into a post-punk hole.
It's the only thing that soothes my soul.
Wire, Magazine, Gang of Four.
Devo, Pil, and Killing Joke.
Early Ultravox for sure.

The post-punks got it right.
Even back then they saw the blight.
Revolution, fuck our institutions.
The government meant to exploit.
In England and the United States.

Everything that disturbed them then.
Has risen to a level well above ten.
Racism, sexism, homophobia.
Can't we all just get along?
In this global world we all belong.

Pere Ubu were above the curve.
Pere Ubu had the nerve.
Pere Ubu were post-punk
Before there was punk.

Post punks hit me where I live.
Their vision always inspires.
They give me the food I require.
Though they started in the late 70's.
For me they are the remedy.

Controlled chaos


Controlled chaos.
That's what she called me.
She said everything I did was for a reason.
Then she created the worst of treasons.
She knew me through and through.

This girl did a number on me.
She didn't think twice.
Or even three times.
She knew all the angles.
She was no angel.

Math and repetition.
Create precision.
There is always an extra piece to the puzzle.
I was just an extension.

She fucked me over.
Again and again.
She was never my friend.
She knew how to pretend.

Yet I had a soft spot for her.
And she did for me.
There was never betrayal.
She just did not care about allegiance.

For M. Bugard

Your head is so far up your ass.
That you can't see the grass.
That lies at your feet.
Who are you trying to defeat?

You get off on your diatribes.
Like Trump on his tweets.
Full of hatred and self-serving.
We all know about your learning.

But please M. Bugard stop thinking you're better.
You got all society's flaws down to the letter.
But don't you have a few of your own?
Or is that too far out of your comfort zone?

Black lives matter revisited

Black lives matter.
Why did it take so long for us to realize?
I do not blame Donald Trump for racism.
He just loves to foment hate.
So sad we came to this.

Black lives matter.
I had to write a poem.
Black lives matter.
I had to show em.

I hope you don't think I'm a poser.
Black lives surely matter.
I am glad people finally care.
Though there is much rancor.

Black lives matter.
If you do not acknowledge.
You are a hippocrite.
You are a piece of shit.