SECTION
THREE
POETRY PAGE ONE
sm
COLUMN
EIGHTY-FIVE,
FEBRUARY 15, 2003
(Copyright © 2003 The Blacklisted Journalist)
[EDITOR'S NOTE: We have tried three times to put the following into cyberspace and three times cyberspace swallowed up this page like a black hole in the universe. Poet Birgitta Jonsdottir of Iceland says she can tell from her stats that the Department of Defense has been viewing her anti-war poetry. When we told the author of the following poem, poet Allan Winans, of our inability to make the page stick in cyberspace, he jokingly expressed paranoia. A paranoia we didn't share. We figured it must be a computer glitch. It was.]
NATIONAL DEFENSE BLUES
National Defense
is the name of the game
no time for the sick and lame
oil is the name of the game
Reduce medicare, make deep
cuts in education
keep the stock market in elation
In California we're still paying the
energy gouge bill
in New York it's the big chill
in Iowa they still don't talk
about the pill
It's Jerry Falwell and the
home town boys
It's the Pentagon needing
new war toys
Security is the name of the game
all that was wild has been tamed
from cities to rural towns
it's evangelist hucksters and
political clowns
Hey Mister Vagabond where
did you go?
you're missing the all night
horror show
Turn up the furnace
turn up the heat
no spare change for the
homeless on the street
blue bellied cops
angels in lace
rich politicians hiding
in disgrace
Bush carries his mandate whip
the NRA shoots straight
from the hip
Let's repeal the assault
weapon ban
all in the name
of Uncle Sam
bombs soon to drop over
Iraq
plug your ears to the screams
killing women and children
is in vogue
be you mad or a CIA rougue
Pay the sports hero
Pay the elite
Pay the whore under the
sheets
No one reads Wordsworth
or Keats
Air Force general shakes
his head
he ain't never had to beg
for his bread
at night he sleeps securely
in his king sized bed
Please Mister President
save us from Cuba
don't let Iraq bring us down
they got the biggest bully
in town
but we're still the only super
power around
let them whine
let them die
we got mom and apple pie
Let's cut social programs
Amtrack too
Charge general admission
At the Children's zoo
The Pentagon spends millions
on nuts and bolts while out
in Wyoming they slaughter
young colts
Forget the poor
the hell with the arts
the Pentagon needs more money
for spare parts
Rest in bed secure and knowing
that "Three Mile Island"
is no longer glowing
Corporate CEOs make millions
a year
the working class slave
for peanuts and beer
Pick a career with money in mind
don't mix with ethnic groups
different from your kind
don't turn your back
they'll rob you blind
Obedience is a must
in God
and the Pentagon
we must trust ##
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