something is rotten in the state of America.
help us to root it out and dispose of it.
i've read of satanic adventures
and young mr. Potter--
but nothing so evil and craven as the
story of our modern national life
has crossed my eyes;
may Christmas pass the land
of Land Rovers over and leave
a smear of shit on her electric gate.
She will get hers without my help, for sure,
the vile, grease-painted hussy;
the crazed, grease-painted hussy!
"My country's Vill-ai-ny,
It's plane for me to seee,
But still i stay..."
there are angles here impossible to measure,
Owls and pentacles,
Pentagons inside of Pentagrams
destined to be damaged through
the dedication of dollars
called reserve notes
that illustrate a prophecy
laying silent in your pockets, niggers all of us together---
drunken, depressed, debased
load-bearers of guilt and evil talismans,
soon to be out of work and purpose, even as vessels,
even as porters.
A nation of overworked weasels
who never knew one moment
without rabies or fear.
a hurricane of blood-soaked shit and murder that
began at the millenium's dawn
and has continued unabated since,
seems like only a troubling breeze
from a distant outhouse
to the lotus-eating zombies
that shuffle across America,
and pewl over her,
and who still cry for revenge against terrorists,
between mouthfuls of brain and milkshake.
Each horrid security and intelligence "failure"...
....and simultaneous right-wing advance,
one upon the other,
is merely a coincidence.
no connections can be made.
the zombies hear an ugly noise
and en masse jerk their heads in the direction of a
some people have managed to hole themselves up in
a great library with broadband,
and have begun broadcasting:
"your government, it may be hard to believe,
is a brotherhood of vampires.
if the real Light of Truth were
ever to shine over the sacred pagan district of
those two venerated white supremacists,
George and Christopher,
all one would see was a throng of outraged, twitching devils,
their game of playing drunken cricket or polo
with a child's battered head, interrupted.
you have been made to consume the filth
of these evil sportsmen,"
says the voice,
"To eat and drink their lies
all your unpitying lives.
You are now almost totally satisfied
with your unwholesome diet of lies, brains,
and dirty sweets.
You do not want to eat each other
but you are told it is in the spirit of competition.
It is parallel to the ethic of the Big "C" herself,
Capitalism, vanquisher of all womanish scruples.
But maybe it is not too late,
even for we selfish, sluggish ghouls and
of the united states,
to turn from our fat cannibalism...
If the worm of change is very tiny,
then just allow it to nibble,
just nibble at you,
there is much to eat!!"
O Whitest Hebe!
guard me against
the poisonous sanctimonies
and powerlust of the
the gibbering occultists of State,
and their many decadent cronies.
steel me versus the thousand diseased temptations
of the good life they sell.
deflect their laser sights
and their night vision
if they get to me.
Let their children feel the
shock of the Tazer, again and again,
if they manage to succeed;
let me die peacefully
and not in one of their camps,
playing basketball or tennis on Soma,
or enslaved in their army,
fighting the deathless suicide bombers.
bleeding imbeciles who read this, develop
weeping lesions where their thighs meet,
and their lower intestines boil with
hot stinking crude
if they snigger at me or think me
less than serious or informed.
i will want only enough
water to spit, whereas they will beg for the piss of their captors.
Jesus let us
go forward together, in a bi-partisan way
on this day of giving,
blessing other countries with our scraps,
once America has had her