hi
it’s me
yer basic schnoodlum
one part shrug
two parts hoodlum
wasted it’s fair
on the slopes
of this chair
no hope
or hair
lamentably
there
dependably
spare
a shame
it’s a name
no one remembers
last in line
of the great deep enders
waving his arms
hands, legs
whatever he’s got
going nowhere
splashing a lot
thou shalt not kill
except until
the picture changes
and law rearranges
fighters into terrorists
murderers into specialists
to implement the government’s will
thou shalt not kill
except until
you own the rights
to the skies at night
turning buildings to rubble
without much trouble
into clicks and media thrills
thou shalt not kill
except until
you pass more laws
to draw applause
and politicians sign big cheques
to smoke your cities into wrecks
and people equal landfill
thou shalt not kill
except until
you get pragmatic
add words in italic
*terms and conditions apply
so your planes can fly
and hungry patriots eat their fill
I don’t understand
why you’d put up your hand
if politicians stand
at a bandstand
and ask for volunteers for the vacancy of DESPOT
I mean that’s just not
something I’d ever wanna BE
it seems particularly WEIRD to me
liking people quaking
when they’re taking
a seat
to sit down to eat
at a banquet in the presidential suite
gaping
at grapes
toasting with the shakes
I mean – how is THAT attractive?
having no trust
in the colonels you’ve cussed
your cabinet a bust
a fervent clergy permanently nonplussed
it’s hardly relaxing
generals collapsing
when you smile
like a child
in their general direction
bodyguards flexing
in brutal suits
as you take salutes
down endless rows of shiny boots
actors tracked down decoy routes
it’s basically wacky
the decor’s tacky
and you can’t get snacky
‘cos you’re scared of poison
and someone laughs and your forehead moistens
and you end up such a figure of hate
that armed crowds beat at the palace gates
to drag you outside and shoot around eight
great
can’t wait
the toilet crawl
the yeast stroke
trolling along
tight-lipped
in the diaper leg
of the triathlon
then it’s out for an antimicrobial dry robe
a flask of hot tea & antibios
a slick transition
to first position
and a bike ride fast as humanly possible
down the road to the nearest hospital
this royal throne of shareholders
this septic isle
set in a sewer sea
come dive with me
what life we’ll see
floating past
innocently:
KYjellyfish
tick
muckerel
tick
quarter pounder flounder
dabber, poopoise, jobster, squit
ah shit
and there’s absolutely nothing to be done about it
so I’m sorry if the seaside makes you vomit
but look at all our lovely profit
[FYI: Weil’s Disease is caught through infected water; its symptoms do NOT include a tendency to write musical theatre in the style of The Threepenny Opera]
jim clayton 