Posts Tagged ‘so glad this is a little less relevant’

Gimme an F: “F!”
That’s right an R and then two E’s.
I need a Verse: “Verse!”
Just soul clap and sing with me:
“We want it Fri, day! ‘Cuz Friday the Verse is Free!”
Welcome back, ya’ll, to the Change I Wish to See.


Mornings, mornings.

A few administrative items before we get started:

1. That good-for-nothing, scoundrel bird was back yesterday! It thinks my house is an aviary. Next time I catch it, there’s gonna be a misunderstanding. Whatever it’s running from outside this house has nothing on me. Me thinks it should pick its battles more wisely.
2. Yet a new phrase has brought someone to this blog. This one is worse than the last one I pointed out. So, again, follow this footnote at your own risk.¹

But we’ve got more important business…

It’s FVF.


Politics as Usual is my baby.  It’s something I wrote and performed as spoken word not too long after 9/11: long enough for the veil of politically convenient straw-Americanism to drop, but not long enough for enough people to notice.  It’s not specifically geared for our current political climate and I’d lose more credibility than I even have if I suggested nothing has changed since.

But with this era’s lifted veil being that which made Wall Street the Oz to the government’s wizard, I figured the words still apply.  Here’s some excerpts.

Happy Friday!

some of it’s betrayal.
i’ve never been very trusting;
quick to see promises as lies with good intentions.
so it should go without mention,
that to break the modicum of trust i lease
requires an acute sense of indecency.

nonetheless, i stand here in a web of deceit
i didn’t weave, but never broke;
like in a third-party supervisor role.
i didn’t start the fire
but as i saw the flames rise,
i never cried out, afraid to cry “fire”
in this over-crowded theatre
where stage right there’s water,
and a blanket stage left,
but i plant myself in the middle,
stagefront, immobile, inept.
trying to put Iraq, Iran, Korea and the Syrians,
Israelis, Palestinians, Somalians, Liberians,
Cubans, Afghanis, Indians and Pakistanis,
South African, Haitian and West European conflagration
into the background for now;
trying to focus on us;
trying to break this cycle.

it’s been 200 years
and still we haven’t changed.
instead of answering Cornell’s questions about race,
we write about how the big millennium move
is from the Land Rover to the Range.
nobody changes the rules,
so we’re playing the same old game.
nobody dares to move,
so we’re stuck in the same old place.
and while everyone knows the truth,
we tell the lies just to save face.

we create associations for advancement,
but never administrations;
throw Puerto Rican Day parades,
but try to Americanize their nation.
we push free trade with Asia
only to shrink-wrap its culture into novelty souvenirs.
we strive to correct those quick to synonymize
“Islam” with “terror,”
but legalize the “random” searching of young men
with olive complexions and beards.

because, as usual,
we’re quick to set parameters
and slow to understand
that the only things boundaries define,
are the cracks through which exceptions slip.

but we’re stuck in a groove:
one step forward, two steps back.
every generation hoping the next one picks up the slack.
every child blaming his or her future on the past.
every visionary wondering if they’ll be the last.

it’s crucial
that in these unusually familiar times
we do everything but politics as usual.

let’s write the history our ancestors dreamed.


¹Ready? “Handjob cum killing.” Not kidding. What kind of real-life Rocky Horror Picture Show madness is going on around here? I said the guy should’ve been a handjob; not that he should die from drowning in the result. For god’s sake, man.  Get a hold on your self interwebs.

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