washington’s dirlewanger brigade…

common criminals
poachers thieves and assassins
freedom’s entrenched foes

cadet bone spurs’ dynasty…

an army
of
terracotta senators
and
representatives
line
the tomb
of
america’s freedom
a catacomb
hermetically sealed
from
the needs
of
the nation
and
its people
these protectors
of
just us
stand guard
over
washington’s necropolis
of
marble halls
parks
statues
and
wood panelled offices
their lacquered words
covering
red
white
and
blue
patriotic paint
can curl
in
fifteen seconds
once
exposed to
corporate donations
and
can flake off
in
just minutes
after
an election
their
covetous emperor
lies
in
his own
pit
with
a rickety
entry way door
carved
with
a crescent moon

deconstructing freedom…

the old barn’ s been
weathered
by
many a storm
quite a few
of
its boards
have been
torn away
and
tossed
by time’s wind
into the sea
others
have been pillaged
for
personal gain
sold
on the open market
at
rock bottom prices
but
stolen goods
can be
dispensed
cheaply
since
there’s
no real overhead
well
not
for
the social merchants
of
sovereignty
but
those housed
in the barn
pay
the highest price
for
the loss

introducing…

jackie’s
a lady
of
the night
she’s
originally from detroit
but
now
resides
just around the corner
from
the brown bag prophet
she’s not
particularly attractive
but
available
for
those
seeking her services
always
dressed
to
avoid the attention
of
the police
but
appropriately
for
keen-eyed clients
she
arrives
at her work site
just
as
i’m leave work
offering
without shyness
her
opinions
regarding an array
of
issues
tonight
jackie
said
i work
hard
for my money
but
those
prostitutes in washington
just
open their mouths
for
the money
and
then
do it
to
the country