I run my Poetry Slam tonight. Alixa is the feature and I'm looking forward to seeing her perform.
Anyway, I try to open the show with a performance piece, so I took an older entry, changed it a bit, and then added.
It's real rough, needs a serious edit, but it will do for now.
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Rant Number N-1
To the boys who keep stealing from my patio, fuck you, you don't understand the reasons for your actions.
To the SUV's clogging our city roads, blocking the view of the responsible cars, while you commute alone to work getting 12 miles per gallon, fuck you
To the short legal aid who spun around in the elevator this morning and smacked me in the testicles with his armful of briefs, fuck you.
To the presidents who dragged us further and further into protectionism and isolationism and a couple other isms our current one can't spell,
and to the current one,
remember,
you weren't elected by a majority of the people, you won by 250 votes out of 250 million, thanks for my tax cut, I didn't want it, here take it back, give it to those who need it... oh and fuck you.
Fuck you to the spin doctors and fuck you to the lobbyists - even the lobbyist for the causes I believe in - you're keeping the real people from being heard.
To the right to lifers and your terror tactics insisting embryos go to the trash instead of the common good, fuck you. I suppose you won't donate your organs, I suppose you would rather have the paralyzed rot, I suppose you would rather never see Michael J Fox act again.
Ok, we have something in common, but still, fuck you.
Fuck you to the Pope, let Africa wear condoms, let a woman be eligible for your job, let women control their bodies, let women be the equal of a catholic man, the anti-abortionists follow your lead.
To the anarchists throwing cocktails flaming in the street, fuck you, you don't care about the causes - you're just using the peaceful for shields.
To the leaders of the G-8, your corporations can't ignore human rights, your corporations can't ignore national law, your corporations can't exploit the people who buy your products, your corporations can't destroy our cultures,
Nike's swoosh is a whip swinging?
Well, Mc Donald's is torture wrapped in plastic - even it's French fries are dipped in beef.
Coca Cola is drain cleaner forced down your throat, its sweetened with advertising and aspartame and costs 3 pennies to make.
Globalization without a conscience is slavery, so fuck you.
To Phillip Morris, 1,227 dollars is not a country's savings every time a smoker dies, what happened to your lie that smoking isn't dangerous? Fuck you.
To my girlfriend who wakes me up every morning, who makes me go to my capitalistic job so we can buy groceries and pay the rent, I love you
and thank you, because
to fight does not require starvation.
Cynicism does not exclude loving,
but outrage begets outrage and only through outrage will change become apparent.
To the writers who drone on about politics and change nothing in their lives, fuck you.
To the readers of this poem, fuck you, you're not perfect either,
and to myself, I'm far from a Ghandi, because my coffee is cold and bitter
my paper cup's been held too much
nicotine stains my fingers
using depression as a crutch...
I'm worrying about what everyone else wants me to be
the sun is shining off my ocean
rivers are glistening down my face
and feeling sorry for myself in this land
I'm such a damn disgrace
so I wanna buy an SUV and deflate my tires
pull a spark plug loose
disconnect some wires
that way I'll get five miles a gallon
and Saudi oil will be worth that much more
because I'm wondering why should I conserve
why should I act any different?
I can just show my love of country by flying a flag
stick a sticker in my window
post stars and bars by a wanted poster
fly it by my back door
I'll go shopping and buy that new CD
buy those sneakers stitched by children - with little lights in the heel
throw my fist through a political window
it's been proven elections are yours to steal
Maybe I'll just put on the robes...
carry a picket sign that says 'fuck you asshole'
But like I said I'm not perfect - I'm a hypocrite and a liar - to myself and all of you,
but I don't mean to,
it's a daily struggle,
but no struggle no progress,
no progress no change
and change is all I hope for - to hand out to the homeless
to show to the heartless
to
to wash over the world
wash this place up
cure it all with a simple phrase
of "Fuck You"
even if it's said back
to me.
