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By Victor Schwartzman, on 21-06-2007 17:05

Views : 1406

Published in : OW! Site Content, Agit Prop 101



David recently became an Outsider Writer.  Here is one reason why:



The Cat, the Veep, Bovines and Green Cheese.

The crux of the biscuit
is that our priorities are skewed.

We can put a man on the moon,
but was it the right man?  And what about
that cow?  Maybe we should have
put a cowboy up there
permanent like.

There’s a song on the radio about
a cat in the cradle with a silver spoon,
and I know that cat.
I’ve been through his crib.

Sixteen Hundred Penn Ave,
I’ve been. He’s got the spoon—
sterling blinders too.  Him and Nero in there
just a fiddlin’.  And forget his bull,
because when you strike the shepherd,
the flock will scatter. And believe me,
the sheep don’t like it.

I am tired of getting fleeced.
I say we get the flock out of here.  We’ve all
been sheared, and the wool went to Sri Lanka
to be made into technicolor dream coats
for some sheik named Yusef while
Joseph from Louisiana stands naked,
stoned, and starving sad.  In Houston.

Somebody had the right idea. Please, give
the cat with the snow job a blow job
so we can impeach his ignorant ass.

----------------------------------------

Want more?  Read two more Agit Prop 101 poems from David!




Monkey Don’t

The quadrennial quandary,
choosing between
the lesser of two lechers
as they bisect bilateral boundaries,
splitting atoms and Adams,
exporting middle America
in the making of little Americas.

(They forgot where Omaha
and Toledo came from in the first place.)

Tracing leaden lines
on a masquerade map,
grids on a glow-lamp globe.
Trying to split the geo
from the political,
trying to loosen these foundlings
without paying the requisite fee.

Storing away their matchless marbles,
trying to divide the socio
from the economic,
never allowing our children to dance,
not even in their hearts.

We’re dreaming under stripened skies,
waking up with spangled eyes.
Teach that choosing between
the lesser of two evils
makes us evil.

See no, hear no,

say no.
------------------------------


Guns ‘n Butter

I’d been having an affair
with a hydrocarbon medusa.

A crude relationship
based on heavy metal
m.r.e.’s and gunshot residue.

I wanted her to meet my folks
but she couldn’t come inside,

said their roof blocked out the sky,
said she could only climax
on her back
with the starlight
glancing off the soles
of her feet.

At water’s edge
Medusa pulled me atop of her.
But as I plunged in she was cut
on a splinter of beach glass.

She bled out on the sand
and left me lying in a pool
of thirty weight.
A classic conundrum.

It was infatuation;
I could never get enough of her.
But my mother is happier now.
She says a hydrocarbon medusa
was too old for me anyway.

Last update : 21-06-2007 17:05

   
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By: Michael Grover (Registered) on 23-06-2007 20:38

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By: Michael Grover (Registered IP 65.10.72.28) on 23-06-2007 20:38

Awesome stuff! David is the man.

 

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