Tuesday, November 6, 2012

poemS of the day 11.06.12

the voters

the voters are out
in full force
they keep stuffing my
mailbox with candidate fliers
but i can’t tell these people apart
they are for different things
but none of them
represent what i want
which is to be left alone

the voters send me emails
asking me to support
this person or that
i look at the web sites
and these people make me sick
with their ugly families
and talking points
they make me wonder
how one gets their teeth so shiny

the voters
think that every election
is important
but most of the voters
are well-off and white
with two cars and dull kids
with toilet paper degrees hanging
on their painted walls
elections never really change
their position or status

they no longer have any idea
what is important

they get mad
at minorities for not showing
up on election night

the voters are still carrying around
that good ol’ white man’s burden

i’m willing to bet that they
wouldn’t think so much about voting
if each night’s dinner came out of a box
full of sugar, salt, and preservatives
if they had gunfire outside
of their big, beautiful windows
metal detectors at their schools
and drug dealers hanging around
their pretty little parks

but the voters
will tell me that the only way
to change this
is to get out and vote
join the other assholes
and have your voice heard
they honestly believe that they
are changing the world
then they go home and watch the results
with some ice cream or popcorn
on one of the 24/7 news channels

the voters believe in the system
because they have never
had faith in anything
including themselves

they do not realize
that nothing has changed
and nothing ever will
that you cannot put blind trust
in egomaniacal fools
looking for a soft road
on the pathway to death

you cannot trust these people
as far as you can throw them
man can only help mankind
one person at a time

but the voters don’t care
they’ll be up early on election day
washed and well-dressed
a good breakfast in their soft gut
so full of pride and civic duty
they’ll be parading around like peacocks

then thankfully they’ll be gone
for at least another 365 days.                                        10.26.10

the politicians

mornings lately
the politicians have been out in full force
standing outside the subway stations
or lurking around the bus stops

they smile
and try to shake the hands
of the common, tired citizen
on their way to work
or the unemployment office

there is usually a republican on one side
a democrat on the other
although it is hard to tell which one
is from which party

the politicians wave at everyone
and shovel their bullshit to any victim
whose hand they can grab for more than a few seconds

they talk about their vision of america
while day dreaming those automatic pay raises
gold-plated health benefits
and all of that free congressional parking

there is a faceless handler
ubiquitously next to these golden bags of gas

it is typically some vivacious young blonde
with a warm smile and perky tits
who passes out fliers
that remind everyone when election day is coming

then every few hours
the politicians switch sides of the street
to do their dog and pony show all over again

before they disappear
into the mist

a mere myth
until the next campaign season
comes again like christmas.

patriots we

and then these two
get on the train
at grand army plaza.
i know the type
new york intellectuals
with too much time
on their hands
and bags from co-ops
or whole food stores
no bills
no irritable bowels
no nose hair
never vomiting
always with ear buds
in their ears
never shutting up
about how smart they are
what they are buying online
and i think
shit, here i am nursing
a hangover
and it’s election day
so i know where this
is gonna go
and the woman
she’s dressed in a red coat
and black slacks
looks like she hates having
her cunt eaten
she starts in before i even
finish the thought
about how proud she is to vote
how she’s making a difference
and her man
he’s dressed in a tweed coat
pressed jeans
has thick glasses
and a well sculpted shaved head
wearing an argyle sweater
probably secretly craves dick
keeps nodding
like she saying the word of god
just nodding
and fiddling with his damned
phone or ipod or sidekick or whatever
uhuh uhuh uhuh
and then he starts in about how
he’s a patriot and she’s a patriot
everyone who voted is a patriot
and listening to them
i almost can’t keep my lunch down
but there are no other seats to move to
i can’t tune them out with a book
so i suffer
and the worst part is i know i voted
for the same guy as them
early this morning
with a wine hangover
in a dank basement on bay ridge parkway
where a women with one
yellow tooth, a caldron,
and a black cat
ushered me into a line with the other dead
and we probably voted for the same
person too
and none of this makes me feel any better
when i get to my stop
so i get up
and leave
who in their right goddamned mind
wears argyle these days?


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