Monday, June 02, 2003

100 Poets Against the War

For many of you that's probably an old link to a very good [and free] e-book but I wanted to post a poem from it so you know I really do know there's a difference between mine and the real thing.

Mickey Mouse came, Mickey Mouse saw, Mickey Mouse conquered
Vincent Tinguely

Looking for clean copies in a post apocalypse with skewed scan lines.
Whenever I stand up straight my head smears across the screen; still,
the soundtrack's good. If I lean at a forty-five degree angle, walk
laterally across a grassy knoll, one hand keeping balance, the other
against the ground, I almost seem to be what I am.

George W Groovy and his GWGs electric chair their way to the Oh So
White House. God, I remember your father and his father before him and
all the fathers before that. Brows knit in the media glare, a penchant
for current affairs leaving songs like legal briefs littering the
clear cut swath of history. The stupid shall inherit the system and
everything else shall follow, like unto dominoes or fractal equations.
Sail on oh mighty shit of state.

It's the end of a thousand years of book-keeping and I'm doing my bit.
A gunshot across the bow of the ship of progress. At least the
Egyptians has aesthetics, Amerika has all the bad taste money can buy.
Power rabid and destructive just out of view, the other side of calm
pronouncements. They march in video formation in their desert
camouflage, their helmets, those Aryan cutaways.

There's nothing worse than a good idea whose time has come and gone.
Religion, the car, capitalism, it's all turned into a freak show for
the living dead. Actors all around me chasing the script, everybody
should just fuck their time away, forget the oil and the geopolitical
bullshit. A good, healthy obsession is all anyone really needs, take
that shampoo hair and jazzy beer ad body out of the television and
re-install it in reality.

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