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News ::
an e-poem i got
19 May 2002
an e-poem i got from a bostonian...
This Poem (dedicated to Muta)

This poem is whatís on my mind
Like a canary in a mine
Not a sign of times
But a whiff of the future
No throwback, no nostalgia
Not sentimental, incremental
Systematic, endemic
Epidemic, spreading
Indiscriminate, hostile
Unpredictable, volatile
All the while, speeding

This poem is speed
A big heist
A runaway train
Driving rain,
A clogged drain
Itís a tumor on your brain
Growing and festering
Itís less like your Uncle Fester
And more like your aunt with whiskers
The one your mama forced you to kiss
Itís got hiss but no static

This poemís got a lisp
Coming atcha with a stutter
Swaying hips
Makes you shudder
Makes you scream and holler
It could feel like a womb
But itís more like a tomb
I wrote it when I couldnít rest
This is not a test!
Not tidy, itís one big mess
Itís got a full court press

This is not a one issue poem
Itís on the right side of class warfare
Supply side, reforms welfare
This ainít no poítry, itís a rich tree
Full of life, it gives you choice
Free verse marketing
Truth in sentencing
It can feel your pain
Talks the talk, walks the walk
Talks softly and carries a big stick
Gunboat diplamacy

This poemís got a foreign policy
Like a shoot Ďem up bang bang cowboy
Lone superpower on a rampage
Makes you wanna turn the page
Make it so number one, engage
Enraged, deranged, drops bombs long range
Doesnít like the peopleís republic
But loves banana republics
Covert operation, bipartisan tricks
Itís less about Iran
And more about Iraq

This poem is about things
And bric-a-brac
Itís not by Frost or Wallace
When hell freezes over
Itíll bring you solace
Itís not at the end of the rainbow
Tugging at your elbow
Itíll bowl you over
Make you roll over
This is not your fatherís poem
It wont make you feel at home

This poem will never settle down
It isnít fully insured
Hasnít put anything away
Won't put out to pasture
Neither organic
Nor sustainable
Genetically modified
To keep going,
And going,
And going...

This poem is wired
Welcome to cyber-poem
Virtually composed
Super computer modulated
Streaming e-consciousness
Intangible, intelligible
Incomprehensible
Bull...
Itís like a bull market
Riding high
Euphoric, soaring

This poem is a cheap speedball
Cheaper than a double latte
You wake with it
It gives you a real high
Crashes you lower than low
Passed out
Itíll tuck you in
Itís demanding
But very reliable
Want another hit?
It gives you the munchies

This poem is aggravated, regurgitated
Swallow it hard and spit it out again
Itís pissing you off
Knocking you out
Clouds your vision
Makes you wanna come back
Makes you beg for more
Please stop!
Itíll make you scream
You push it away, block it out
But it keeps coming back

This poem isnít on everyday
Same time. same place
Not your average soliloquy
Nothing like Hughes
Itís no dream deferred
Hasnít hidden millions
Doesnít advice a stuttering bush
Itís not like Moses
Doesnít send roses
Wonít talk to you
Nor a burning bush

This poemís got push
Pushing all your buttons
In the right sequemce
Mapping your genome
Healing your ills
The perfect pill
Flawless
Monotone
Making a clone...
Making a clone...
Making a clone...

This poem is whatís on my mind
This poem has run out of time
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