May God and Virtue Rest in Peace

And the founding fathers,
They seem ever like gods,
In this time of trouble.
When fat men who eat bacon
Dream of torture against other men,
who do not
when children are the subject
and the subject is hot.
When young men have no rights,
But who would need any, with a mangled throat?
What if they left it all to fear and dread
What if they had a trial; off with his head!
The founding fathers, now
Ever like gods
What happened to justice,
where fear does nae tread?
What happened to knowledge,
That thing in our head?
Our ideal was imancipation
Set down in proclamation
The fight was for liberty
Equal justice, and for all
They ended slavery
They invented the wheel
They created a nation
(From the Scots did they steal)
And without education after that fall
On our bellies do we crawl
An injured man
An army they called
And couldn’t save a trachea
For one word to say.
“Why did you do it? To whom do you pray? Who are your idols? Were you a good lay?”
Infamously famous, forever you’ll stay
Confusing the parents
Whose children you’d slay.
Innocent until proven guilty
What more can I say?
There are rights and laws to hold back
The mob who would sack
The king and the president
No use going back.
Without the high minded
Without the high road
Without the high-falootin
Without the dept owed
There would be no equality
No land of opportunity
No trace of humanity
No independent investigation
No truth despite hating
No understanding of psychological proclivity towards violent retaliation
Because that fucker can’t speak anymore
And that other fucker is dead,
If they did do it,
In the end.
And the cries for torture
they ring of our fall.
Our penises dripping:
“And justice for all”
For a moment alone
With the killer whose gall
Would kill all of our children
We’re so appalled
After all
They’re white and brown and Asian and all
All American
Not Iranian
Or Afghanistanian

after all.
We never did anything wrong.
Innocent bystanders
All checking our iPhones
Third party murderers
to the war in Congo.
But never mind all that.
To the media hype!
“Death on American shores
With a big explosion!
Three lost souls.”
But keep mining for gold
Ignore the responsibility
“They were obviously troubled.
They ran from the police
The army
The marines!
They were obviously guilty!
What more do you need?!”
Well I’m no judge of the people
No assembled jury
No court ordered paper
To bend evil knee
But I am an American citizen
High as any old king
High as the president
If what they said was all true
And I say we have time
For a look into the mind
Of a sick fucking killer
Whose right now within unbreakable binds
To get a court order
No judge will hide
From a signature on a paper
To legally bind
A thorough investigation
Approved by the nation
One simple act of supplication
To the goddamn constitution.
One single bullet not loosed,
From the federal bureau of investigation’s
Sexually repressed
Drowned in paperwork
Finally ready to shoot some motherfucker’s
Goddamn pistol
All in the name of letting a motherfucker speak
To see if he’s guilty
Capable of the crime
And worthy of the time
Or just another creep
Deep in religiosity.
But Osama’s body is deep
Deep deep deep
In some ocean
So they say
Where we don’t hear a dead man’s words
And where he can’t let a single peep seep
Into our delicate
Welcome to 2013.
May god and virtue rest in peace,
Because in these times
when the founding fathers seem ever like gods
(so educated
so fine)
there’s no room for that high minded bullshit.


This is a Poem

This is a poem
Because I am a writer
And a writer needs a forum
And forums are for poems
And poems are made of words.
Let me introduce myself
I am a human being
When I look outside my eyes, and I roll my head like this
I see a lot of things
A lot of things that exist.
Sometimes I think we all can see
Sometimes I think it’s only me
And when I think I’m the only one
I find myself thinking
That I should be
Full blown
Not only ready
But willing
And killing it
I ought to be, ought to be on top
I ought to be, ought to be in love
I ought to be knee deep in all those things I dream of
Day in and day out
Spouting my swollen head, spouting the juices out
I ought to be the guy, the gal, I ought to be full on.
I ought to live
I ought to love
Ought to be the one.
They said you were special
They said you were real
They didn’t tell you, you had to be the driver of a car with three wheels.
They didn’t say you had to get out and push, didn’t say you would squeal
Sealed inside with only one way to survive and that means not to die out
Not a whimper but a SHOUT
Didn’t say you didn’t have to turn the other cheek.
Didn’t say you could push, and push and push and push whether it was comfortable or not
Not for I but for YOU
You, who doesn’t know, and me who does
And it’s my job to show you,
To push it in your head
Without your permission,
Without your say
But I’ll do it gently
Cuz it’s my way
To let you down gently
And then to walk away.