The Ogre Vespucci, or,
America the Purply


And the clatter sanity made when it scrambled from the room,
with vanity and cruelty biting and snapping at its
heels and pummeling it with a cudgel,
filled our tinny, cauliflower ears.
She could not stay long,
as our emperor is red-eyed crazy
and our people hopelessly subjugated
to the merest of his
Lunatic whims and prejudices,
such as cable TV and hip hopscotch
and vast child abduction schemes
run by intelligence services.
Already we had witnessed the broadcast rape and murder
of our collective pride,
during the election.
We watched the gleeful sadism in their sick little eyes
as they snatched the presidency
and encouraged us to think it mattered.

America sure is something.
Yes something like a cave-dwelling monster
that demands continuous sacrifice,
of many things:
Not of virgins and strong men, any more, because along
with slavery some pleasures had to be surrendered, but instead
the sacrifice of humane and
universal impulses wherever they have
the sniveling, trilling temerity to occur…
And, still to this day, massive animal sacrifice, of quadrupeds and fowl, to feed our
blubbery bellies,
and of dirty, shrunken foreign bipeds to provide
labor ever-replenishing and scarcely compensated,
yes, sacrificial bipeds who drag their thin bodies across
bloodthirsty deserts just to prepare you
a cheap and wasteful breakfast;
just to stoop in your fields.

“Give me animal products and lazy Mexicans” bellows the monster, while engineering space laser programs for
the protection of the fanatically rich.
We in the real world must fear the Beast’s need
for perpetual target practice and
submit to his taste for products
made by the sweaty little palms of the underdeveloped world at 1000% profit.
“at least a third of my calories will derive from miserable birds and mistreated cattle, the global lawn will forever be patrolled by lantern-clutching niggers in full battle-rattle,”
--- such are his unsteady and insupportable decrees.

We must be careful, now that sanity has been chased into the night, bleeding from her eyes and ears, nursing an ass
full of shrapnel and semen.
The monster is feeling his oats and is drunk
with the power that grows from designing a nightmare
tailored for all and resisted by none.
Oh, he has stumbled, there go
the Empire's Masonic Twin Towers and the estate tax,
Oh, he is paranoid, several amendments lay gasping and disemboweled…
Oh, he wants a snack, look out in Haiti, beware, Venezuela,
My, how he seethes, in his delirium blaming monkeys for AIDS
and Africans for African famine and these civil wars
that can go on for 40 years but never for a second fail to provide
Diamonds and cell-phone bits
for the diseased pleasures of the West,
as his monstrous and cynical system soaks up
the earth’s moisture and drains it of life.
Beware the ogre, he is
the Pursuit of your Happiness
and the Standard for your Living.