On the Road on Election Day (Sean Quinn)

"I got dog-tired beyond Macon and woke up Dean to resume. We got out of the car for air and suddenly both of us were stoned with joy to realize that in the darkness all around us was fragrant green grass and the smell of fresh manure and warm waters. "We're in the South!"

– Jack Kerouac, “On the Road”

If there is one shocker on election night in the presidential race, cast your eyes to Georgia. 1,994,990 people voted early in Georgia. 3,301,875 total voted in Georgia's presidential race in 2004.

AMERICAN DREAM DEFIBRILLATED by Wallace Gagne

Thank God. At last. Americas long nightmare is finally over. Of course
not everybodys happy. Because its a big disappointment for soccer
moms, ditto heads, knuckle draggers, unibrows, flagwavers, gaybashers,
right-to-lifers, everyone who puts country first and hates liberals.
Unfortunately not a good day for gun nuts, gas guzzlers, racial profilers,
dollar averagers, Joe the Plumber, the Watergate Plumbers, all those who
still believe Saddam had weapons of mass destruction.

Yes. Its a brand new day in America. Unless youre a stock flogger,
derivatives junky, National Parks pipeliner, selling Freedom Fries, clear
cutting, making Revolving Door or Swiftboat ads or drilling for offshore
oil. Morning In America. Thousand Points of Light. Except for Jesus
freaks, Bible thumpers, The Base, granny dumpers, flat taxers, no taxers
and whale killers. Black Day In November for the Vegas Family, managed
health care mob, camouflage wearers, waterboarders, minutemen, surf
and turfers, global warming deniers, Fox News believers, war lovers,
Castro haters, the walk softly and carry a big hydrogen bomb set.

Tell me Im not dreaming. Is it really game over for cowboy boots, Stetsons,
Dallas Cowboys, leveraged bullbleep, Confederate flags, gun racks, the
tobacco lobby, attack helicopters, full metal jackets? Pinch me. Surely
salad days havent ended for depleted uranium, school vouchers, home
schooling, billionaire tax breaks, nude pig piles, Breaking News, the
Situation Room, CNBCs Closing Bell and High End Living?

Believe it. Its a whole new ball game. Earthshaking. Homeland Security
renamed Homeland Hilarious. No more sour airport greetings by surly,
identity checks, presumptuous luggage searches. Everybody warmly
welcomed with sexist racial kneeslappers pulled from secret background
profiles. John Wayne renamed I Love Lucy Airport. Ronald Reagan
Building now Iran Contra Complex. American Enterprise Institute
morphed into Dick Cheney Early Warning American Fascist Watchtower.

CIA abolished. FBI reigned in. Everybody enjoying generous health care,
fat pensions, authentic education, 24 karat human rights. Bridges safe
to cross. Air okay to breathe. Americans welcomed everywhere. Because
its the dawning of the New Age. Bright happy well-adjusted America.
Pentagon in its proper place. Talkshows talking real freedom, spouting
genuine democracy. No fear. No cheap partisan exploitation of 911,
Armageddon, healthy family life, illegal immigration. Ralf Nader,
Secretary of Consumer Affairs. Allen Ginsberg, Secretary of Defence.
Lenny Bruce on the three dollar bill. Rational self-interest replaced by,
Hey Man, hows it goin?

  www.tokyopoet.com
Tokyo, Monday, 11/03/08

Book Launch Party Scene 1 (jz)

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Photo: Dancers at Donald Richie's "Botandoro" book launch party Nov. 2, Tokyo jz

Book Launch Party Scene 2 (jz)

girl843.jpg
Photo: Dancers at Donald Richie's "Botandoro" book launch party Nov. 2, Tokyo jz

Motel of Lost Companions by Hillel Wright (Japan Times Oct. 26)

Motel of Lost Companions
Keep a grip on what passes for reality as you check into this strangely normal fiction story for fall by Hillel Wright

It was a foolish argument . . . the worst kind of argument too, over food. And not even food exactly, but over salad dressing.

She'd left his dinner on the table while she was out shopping for groceries. There was a bowl of yakisoba noodles and a plate of gyoza dumplings to heat up in the microwave. And there was a salad. Not a very fancy salad, just lettuce, tomato wedges, grated carrot, cucumber and slices of hard-boiled egg. The salad was in a medium-size bowl, an individual serving. Next to the salad was a small plastic pitcher of dressing. It looked and smelled like one of her homemade concoctions of olive oil, rice vinegar, garlic, diced tofu and a dollop of Caspian yogurt. It looked like a lot of dressing for one salad, but then again it might not have just been for a single serving.

It presented a classic avoidance-avoidance conflict: avoid her displeasure if he didn't eat everything she so painstakingly prepared for him; avoid her anger if he didn't leave her half the dressing.

So it was a foolish decision that led to the foolish argument.

He'd gone out to the library after dinner and then over to the International Center to use the free 30 minutes of Internet service available there. He could just check his e-mail and leave their home computer free for her to use when she got back from shopping. She liked to search for punk-music performances on YouTube or play violent video games like "Postal" or "Grand Theft Auto." She said they helped her to relax. She was, after all, old enough — at 34 — to be able to distinguish fantasy from reality. He didn't suspect she'd ever actually go on a shooting rampage in Yokohama or Tokyo. For one thing, where would she get a gun?

Read the rest of Hillel Wright's story in the Japan Times
http://www.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/fl20081026x1.html

Let's dance (jz)


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Photo: Dancers will kick up their heels and show their stuff at Donald Richie's book launch event at What the Dickens pub Sunday Nov 2 in Ebisu. jz

An electric flower (jz)


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Photo: The Clockwork Flowers. Will be playing Nov 2, Donald Richie's book launch event at What the Dickens pub in Ebisu. jz

Kiss from a witch (jz)

And all I got that night
was just a kiss
A single--
A single fatal kiss that she planted--
planted on my lips

And it all happened so fast
it happened in just a flash in time
the poison kiss that she planted--
A single fatal kiss that she planted--
planted on my lips

I should have known better
I should have been on my guard
put up my defenses
and fortified my heart
against such a possibility
the possibliity of what--
of what even a simple innocent kiss--
a simple innocent kiss can bring

Looking--
looking into her eyes
her eyes immediately lured me--
like a sirens song, lured me inside,
Awakening my desires
luring my lips
forward
And . . .

And as soon as our lips met
I knew I was a hooked
I was like a helpless voodoo doll.
the kiss--
the kiss was like a needle
and the needle went straight --
straight, deep into my heart.
I was the voodoo doll--
I was the voodoo doll and the victim
at the same time

Immediately, I felt a tingling
Just before the fever took hold
and I shook on the inside
a strange chill that ran up and down--
up and down my spine
A love-spell is--
is a strange, uncurable disease

Now I --
I can't think-- think straight
I can't eat
I can't sleep
Now I can only contemplate
What has happened to me
That she must be some kind of witch
For what
for what-- she has done to me
Possessed--
Possessed as any man can be.

And all I can think about
is the poison kiss that she planted--
planted on my lips

And all I got that night
was a kiss--
A single fatal kiss that she planted--
planted on my lips

A single fatal kiss
the poison kiss that she planted--
she planted on my lips

"JOE JOB" by Hillel Wright (Contributor)

JOE JOB

Joe Six-Pak
Joe the Plumber
Joe Average
G.I. Joe
Ordinary Joe
Ashita-no-Joe
Shoeless Joe

Say it ain't so, Joe!

Anchor what? (jz)


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Photo: In Phuket, Thailand. Oct. 19 jz

Beach boys (jz)


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Photo: Boys playing soccer at sunset on Karon Beach, Phuket, Thailand. Oct. 19 jz

AUTUMN BLOWBACK by Wallace Gagne

Days are growing shorter. Trees change color. Deadbeat mortgages
are in the red. Investors got the blues. Australian Aborigines rub
sticks together, blow digereedoos. Afghans grow dope poppies, Detroit
junkies finance Kabul carbombs.

Sarah leads electoral charge from Fairbanks Moose Lodge into Cleveland
industrial gutter. Mrs. Mainstreet Rumproast says Os different,
dangerous, not like normal subprime Americans. Towel head, camel
jockey, terrorist, wagon burner.

Straight Talk Express now mired in muddy dungheaving quagmire.
Rookie. Punk. Greenhorn. Prez. Candidate McShortribs unveils magic
economic wand. Vows victory over Apaches. Make West safe for honest
hardworking landgrabbers. Raghead lover. Lawn jockey. That One.

Who got Nobel for inventing Reaganomics? Who harpooned Freddy the
Tuna? Who ordered No. 6 with duck sauce? President Flubbermouth
lipsynchs bailout aint another nookleer yellow cake. The next
forktongued WMD mission accomplished. Corpse. Antique. Deadman
Walking.

Bankers want free government smackers. Chrysler wants GM merger
for future hard times. World Court wants Kissinger for old Latino
war crimes. Celebrity. Flubberclone. Quota stooge. Zombie. Sarah says
O wants to raise white flag of surrender. Joe Bicep says Sarahs a
Northwoods toilet seat. Dickwad. Wingnut. Comsymp. Makaka.

Is your laxative causing cancer? Is your house sliding into the ocean?
Iraqi women wrap themselves in insurgent dynamite. Rush wraps
golden beer belly in starstriped gasbag. Sarah sits around the kitchen
table wrapping angry sandwiches. McShortfuse proposes massive
bailout for honest hardworking chicken pluckers.

Cranes vector south. Bears eat squirrels. Sarah says Os a closet Muslim.
McManchurian Candidate demands, Whats That One trying to hide?
Theres morning frost. Frost and falling poll numbers. Flubbermouth
announces humongous bailout for honest hardworking porkbelly
speculators.

Theres snow in the mountains. Sixty shopping days until Christmas.
Two weeks til Election Day. Im not George W. Flubbermouth shouts
McClone. Proposes massive deregulation, taxcuts for billionaires,
Monte Carlo health care for Joe the Plumber.

Theres salmon in the butcher shops. Half price bath towels in the malls.
Both parties talk economic change. Idiot, lunatic, stupid piece of crap.
Pumpkins turn tangerine orange. Both sides talk national security.
Moron, fool, Nazi, surrender monkey.

Gun nuts take out duck hunter artillery. Stock market takes dead cat
bounce. Ones talking reform. Others talking patriotism. Bastard, yard
ape, Bible thumper, pinko. Squ

irrels hide nuts. Canadians drag out
storm windows. Ones talking education. Others talking religious values.
Pervert, dopefiend, a-hole, sonofabitch.

And so it goes. Round and round. Up and down. Everybody dancing.
Everyone singing. As the World turns. As the Universe hums along.

www.tokyopoet.com
Tokyo, Sunday, 10/19/08

Pole position (jz)


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Photo: Pole dancer. Kabukicho, Tokyo. Oct.12 jz

Something to think about (jz)

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Photo: Dancer taking a break, Tokyo. Oct 12 jz

RIGHT NOW by Wallace Gagne

Once again my Tokyo week kicks off with the world in crisis.
Its starting to rain. Earlier, somebody jumped in front of a train,
snarling traffic, delaying robosmerfs commuting to treadmill days
at Boredom Incorporated.

This morning Im watching the jolly crew of Panic International
bang-banging us though Planet Earths newest Stay Right There
five alarm mindblowing super shockers.

The economy is roaring ahead. Slowing down. Heading through
the roof. Grinding to a halt. Its a miracle. Its a crash. A correction.
A fantastic buying opportunity. Theres skyrocketing oil prices.
Theres massive unemployment. Record profits. Devastating
foreclosures. Huge golden parachutes. Heartbreaking poverty.

Truck bombs have obliterated half of South Asia. Chinas gogo
autocrats are stunned. Totally dumbfounded by the latest poisoned
egg fu yung toxic chicken scandal. Europes in a panic. Africas up
the rigging. Japans shuffling the cabinet.

A little voice says I should wake up and get a life. But here I sit.
Glued to the Worlds fastest-breaking tragic trainwreck. Boggled
by the Globes finest in-depth up-to-the-minute completely unbiased
homogenized whizbang commentary. Sweating blood anticipating
more gutwrenching broadsides of This Just In pantscrapping
GOBSMACK NEWS.

Madonnas getting divorced. Ebolas broken out in Bermuda. Housing
starts are up. The Arctics ice-free. The Amazons on fire. NBCs
unveiling their fall line-up. Theres chicken flu in Malibu. The Feds
slashing interest rates. Heres Ralf Laurens spring collection. Franks
brother died. Britneys on Oprah. Whitneys on heroin. Was Christ
crazy? Does the President have all his marbles?

What happened yesterday? Last week. A year ago. Who knows? Who
cares? Space ships land in Great Falls. Corn ripens. Snow drifts
below my window. Women are selling their bodies. Men are weeping.
Theres cursing. Swearing. Finger-pointing. Families are living on
Kraft Dinner. Larry Kings got Motley Cru. Its the Jews. Its the Blacks.
The poor. The rich.

Its not like it used to be. The good old days. Wheres the hope? Wheres
the way out? A workable solution. A viable alternative.I want to know.
Right here. Right now.

www.tokypoet.com
Tokyo, Friday, 10/10/08

Slow train is a comin' (jz)

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Photo: Ginza Line train, Tokyo. Oct 9 jz

Just another full moon (jz)

On this clear cool night
I can see the face of the man in the moon
and the darkside--
the darkside behind
like the reflecion --
the reflection in the mirror.
I can see both--
Both at the same time.

Men have been to the moon more than once
but each time upon returning
they each said how glad--
how happy they were to be back home

And the earth may be blue
with all its troubles and evils
But it's where--
it's the only place in this vast universe
where we search--
where we search for and find love.

Girl from Ipanema (jz)

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Photo: Girl from Uzbekistan singing at What the Dickens poetry night. Oct 5 jz

In your dreams (jz)

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Photo: Japanese girl on a Tokyo train. Oct 5 jz

No Sarah No!

For times when "It doesn't get 'worse' than this" (jz)

The weather forecast called for clear sunny skies
And there was not a problem--
not a worry on my mind,
And looking up at the morning blue
there wasn't a cloud
not a single cloud in the sky
And it looked as if--
as if the words, "It's a beautiful day,"
"It's a beautiful day,"
were--
were actually true.

But then, out of the blue
like a car accident
a sudden illness
or a drive-by shooting
black clouds raced in
and suddenly the sky grew dark
and a strong wind blew
just before the rain--
a cold rain came pouring down.
And I found myself caught--
caught in the rain again.

There was no place to take shelter
couldn't find any refuge
no structure, no arms of another.
All I could do
was to stand there
and take it --
take it like a man
or, as best--
as best as I can.

And my clothes stuck
stuck to my skin.
Standing there,
my shoes in a puddle.
My mind--
my mind confused and
befuddled.
And all the puddles
made a stream
and the stream turned into a river
an the river turn into a sea
crashing
a turbulent ocean of panic.
My eyes--
my eyes couldn't see--
couldn't see even two feet in front of me
And there was no explanation
for this current situation.
Only that--
only that I was caught
caught in the pouring rain
Again.

Any major dude with half a heart surely will tell you my friend
Any minor world that breaks apart falls together again
When the demon is at your door
In the morning it won't be there no more
Any major dude will tell you
---Steely Dan

'Soliloquy' by Genevieve Barr (Contributor - Nagoya)

Soliloquy

Sweetness breathes lightly beside me tonight,
Honored lips, color red with kissed delight,
Forgotten songs stir, and play with desire's intentions,
And smiles take on new meaning.
Embellished words in silence, almost spoken.

Such moments were gone before we even got started.

Smiles cruelly broken,
crimson fell dark.
Sweet songs lied
and we were left to die,
in suffocating times.
Love banished and tenderness a crime.

Gentle lives.

Return.

SARAH by Wallace Gagne

Like the Catholic priest who thought he had mastered
sexual intercourse by studying the Vatican Manual,
everything you know about economics you learned
by counting frozen mackerel on your husbands fishing
boat.
Likewise skills acquired driving the kids to subzero
hockey games and reheating Tupperware containers
of leftover meatloaf, will stand you in good stead when
it comes to shepherding ten trillion dollar budgets through
Congress or advising the President how to reorganize
the military.
Experience is no laughing matter.
Next comes metaphysical certainty.
God made the world in six days and doesnt want men
using rubbers.
Your whiny hog caller voice sounds like poetry, at least
to the Puritanical base who love your manly fortitude.
Then theres the school teacher glasses topped by the
librarian beehive which go along nicely with your plan
to solve Americas energy shortage by pipeling the National
Parks and obliterating the polar bear.
In the same vein, blasting moose in the back forty qualifies
you to negotiate a political settlement between Shia and
Sunni as well as head the Six Party Talks to denuke North
Korea.
True youve never met the head of a foreign power, but
the Russian coast is visible from Alaska and you read about
Jack Shellac in the funny papers.
And just like the notorious Bridge to Nowhere which you
opposed then favoured then came out for and against,
we know you will apply the same sensible decisiveness to
health care, mass transportation and illegal immigration.
So God speed, Sarah.
Dont let the liberals and media deflect you from your divine
mission to save the nation and spread creationism.

www.tokyopoet.com
Tokyo, Saturday, 09/20/08

Homo Erectus (jz)

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Photo: Man on a Rhode Island beach, September 2008 jz

SALE by Wallace Gagne

A slick pullout from the local paper. Ads on tv.
Its July. Its August. Summer sales time. Back to school time. Time
to buy a new backpack. Get organized. Get connected. Be successful.

Look. Its the Big Bang. Its a Black Hole. Its our 37th Annual Summer
Liquidation Sale. Here come Adam and Eve. Here comes the Scientific
Revolution. Here comes Happy Hour. The Hydrogen Bomb. Our
Fireball End of Days Summer Blowout Extravaganza.

Its September. Its October. Fall Sales Time. Political campaign season.
Time for Super Buys on Luxurious Leather Sofas. Time for electoral
buffoonery. For Swiftboating. Instant Rebates. Red-baiting. Time for
flagwaving. No monthly payments. Fag-bashing. Lazy-boy recliners.
Time for wedge issues and code words. Dressers and Queen-size
headboards.

Days are getting shorter. Dead leaves cover the ground. Are you
unhappy? Dissatisfied? Well cheer up. Because its Harvest Sales Time.
Record Breaking Savings. Heres an aluminum patio set. Theres a
Revolving Door Ad. Try our Cocomo bamboo place mats. How about a
sex scandal? Nothing down. Some toxic tabloid rumours. No interest.
A totally dishonest distortion. No payments for fifteen months.

Its November. Its December. Election Time. Christmas Sales Time.
Theres lies, untruth, half-truths, false accusations. Theres colored lights
in the malls. Theres questioned loyalty and kneejerk patriotism. A Jesus
manger scene at City Hall. Hate-speech and McCarthyism. Check out our
rock bottom prices. Dont miss out on reverse victimization. See our Back
Page for Special Power Buys. Try our money politics, collapsible laundry
sorters, fear mongering, fully loaded Subaru.

Media fills my mind. I drink websites. I breathe emails. I stand in line for
the latest ipod. Everythings moving. In play. Everybody wants everything.
More and more. Right now. Anybody can do anything. Everythings really
important. Nothings real. Nothing matters.

Its January. Its February. Theres white nights. Tremendous savings.
Im trying to understand. Time for our Everything Must Go After-
Christmas Final Clearance Sale. I read McLuhan. Do I need 70 percent
off prehung French doors? I study Mao Tse Tung. Test drive a fuel-
efficient SUV. I listen to Newt Gingrich. Arrange for a No-Obligation
In-Home Free Demonstration.

Whats happened to organized religion? Is your hair-dye causing cancer?
Whats gone wrong with music, medicine, responsible journalism? Come
on over. Paris was partying hard at a Vegas club. Pick a payment. Think
outside the box. No sales person will call.

Its March. Its April. March Madness. Easter. The Final Four. Hanukkah.
Time to hit the Winter Clearance Sales. Time to defend freedom. Buy a
snow blower. Bring light to the darkness. Buy storm windows. The white
mans burden.

Time for our Incredible April Fools Mix & Match Spring Spectacular. Buy
a gas barbecue. Receive absolutely free, a guaranteed money-back
targeted assassination. Get a Home Theatre Full HD Plasma TV. Choose
either domestic democracy or a hard-line in-your-face foreign policy.

Its May. Its June. Time for vox populi. Time for our Pre-Summer One-
Time-Only Spectacular Blowout Sale. Time to level with the masses.
For hand-trimmed sirloins. For honesty and openness. Delicious center-
cut pork chops. Headbagging and offshore rendition. Time for healthy
outdoor living. For fake compassion and phony glad-handing.

Who wants to see how sausage is made? The blemish on Miss Universe?
Dont worry. Go shopping. Dont miss our Fabulous Giant Out-the-Door
June Inventory Sale. Take advantage of our intolerant religious ranting.
A 24-Pack of Coors Lite. The disappearing rule of law. Fifty percent off
kiddies backpacks.

www.tokyopoet.com
Tokyo, Friday, 09/12/08

Mr Feel Good - Barak Obama (jz)

Oh say did you see
the Obama's democratic acceptance speech.
his acceptance speech on TV?
There was the unlikely candidate standing solo
behind the podium
With the media focusing only on "the historic moment":
the first Afro-American to win the nomination
of a major political party.

It was all set in such a perfect picture-fame
a stadium filled with screaming Obama supporters
Behaving more like exuberant fans of a celebrity
than voters for this presidential wanna-be.
There was patriotic white and blue plastered everywhere
Camera angles trained on his two cute kids
and his attractive wife with her darkie smile
And white-haired Joe Biden
all cheering him on.

As Obama spoke
And I too drank from the Kool aid cup
The words--
the words that Obama served up in Pepsi Stadium
on Thursday
He inspired like Kennedy,
Dreamed like Martin Luther King.
And I thought the best line--
the best line of his speech was:
"We had --
We had ENOUGH."

We've had enough of the past disastrous 8 years of Bush, Cheney and their crony friends.
We certainly have all had enough, haven't we?
Just look at the war in Iraq
America' position the world
and the economy.

Obama's speech left me with hope
However, I have more hope that Obama can inspire change
than any change he can actually deliver.
To quote: "Change doesn't come FROM Washington,
it comes TO Washington."

And it hasn't been in a very long time
a very long time--
even if only for that brief time during Obama's speech
I became less cynical--
less cynical about America
and about the future
For a brief time, I could feel good.

And If Obama does win the presidential election
Whether his is an Afro-American or half-white
His real job as President--
President of the Untied States of America
will not be that of Commander in chief of the Armed Forces
but to make that good feeling--
that good feeling of change and hope--
and make that good feeling
last.

Comfort in Nothingness (jz)

Cities
they rise up--
rise high up scraping the sky.
City after city,
Testimonies to expanding population
From afar, high-rise buildings appear as peaks--
peaks where heaven and earth should meet.
But up close, they are just, just compositions--
compositions of glass and gray concrete.

And the mountains
they too rise from earth towards the sky.
But instead of our scaling--
our scaling to new heights,
we prefer to look down.
We are willing to settle . . .
settle for picking up pennies--
only the pennies lying on the ground.

The constant stream of headlights invades--
invades my eyes
like sharp razors in the night.
One by one, as the cars keep racing by,
But their red taillights remind me--
only remind me of the days--
the days of my life
which have already passed--
so quickly passed by.

And when I look up, every cloud that I see
every cloud's sliverlining is just another--
is merely just another shade of gray.
And night--
the night of Nothingness is all--
is what I see.
And there's nothing beyond--
nothing beyond what only appear to be pin holes--
pin holes of light in a black sea.

Finding comfort in nothingness
With no need to believe--
no need to believe in anything,
no need to believe in anything.

To the 2 Candy dates (jz)

Don't tell me why YOU should be the next President.
I don't care if you are young or old,
a man, woman, black, or Hispanic.
Just look around,
the world is in a friggin' panic.
Damn straight! We don't need another "leader,"
a so-called leader,
another four years of taking this country to hell--
to hell in a basket.

Don't tell me about the God damn War,
whether to stay in Iraq or to withdraw.
Don't tell me that unless we somehow win this thing,
terrorists will be knocking at our doors.
No more raising red alerts,
No more spreading fear,
cuz we're not buying into your story--
into your bullshit story any more.

And don't tell me about God.
Don't fill me with "God Bless America,"
and that "We are the greatest country on earth."
And don't wave no flag
of red, white, and blue in my face.
Because every group has their own piece of cloth
Whether it's green, yellow, black or purple
a cloth to display their cause
or their faith.
The last time I looked around
the world was blue and round
and we are all brothers and sisters--
brothers and sisters of this puny planet
we all call Earth.

Tell me how you're gonna do it
Tell me your plan--
Your plan for all the people having enough to eat
and clean water--
clean water
enough for everyone to drink.

And don't tell me that global warming is to blame.
For the devastating hurricanes,
massive floods, colossal forest fires,
We're not all stupid,
You don't have to be Einstein or Al Gore to figure it out.
Look at the friggin highways and the rush hour traffic.
I wonder why
if everyone is in such a rush then why --
why aren't the cars moving
instead of idling in long lines sitting still?
Meanwhile, oil keeps pumping
and blood keeps flowing.

To the you the truth,
I don't care if cars run on corn
or on horse manure.
If we are so addicted to oil,
tell me how we are going to kick--
kick this bloody habit
So tell me
tell me how--
how you plan to make the air and the oceans clean.
And show me that you've got some guts:
I want hear the plan
for kicking the oil producers and oil companies
in the nuts.

And don't tell about how we are so "Free."
Don't point to the Statue of Liberty.
That you've got to take your shoes off
if you want to go see.
And don't tell me about our strong economy
because I don't want to buy--
I'm not going buy any of your crap any more.

Immigration?
Healthcare?
Education?
So many things to do!
Just don't tell me that you are going on vacation
in the Pocanos Mountains,
Myrtle Beach,
Hawaii
or whereever
to relax for a couple of weeks.

Tell me the truth
tell us how--
and your plan for setting a new course.
How you are going to make this ship right.

But most of all, I want hear YOUR plan--
YOUR plan for getting us
to help.

Sam the man (jz)

Sam DeGrande only thinks about himself.
He doesn't care--
He doesn't care about anyone else.
And Sam DeGrande only talks --
only talks about himself.

Sam DeGrande begins every sentence with "I"
and ends in "me."
And whatever the topic.
he claims to be--
he claims to be an authority.
And no matter the story.
Sam DeGrande has a greater glory.

Sam DeGrande will try to impress you.
He has a lot of stuff.
He's drives a new red car,
and he is quick to tell you its sticker price.
And how yesterday he bought a new 50 inch flat TV,
and asks you come over to see . . .
but not really.

And Sam DeGrande smiles--
smiles hearing someone else's misfortune,
more icing for his own self-adulation.
And Sam DeGrande lives true to his creed:
"It's all--
It's all about me."

And do you know what--
what is sad?
Is that people--
people like you and me listen--
listen to guys like Sam DeGrande.

And you know what--
what get's me mad?
Is that people like Sam DeGrande
are the kind of people--
are the kind of people in this world
who get ahead.

Sam DeGrande only thinks about himself.
He doesn't care--
doesn't care about anyone anyone else.
And Sam DeGrande only talks --
only talks about himself.

Yellow taxi (jz)

yellowtaxi.jpg
Photo: Who needs gas when Tokyo has Velo Taxi service. August 23 jz

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