I guess we ain't broke enough to reform / Into functioning poems, handcuffs or bombs. / As is, academic jive, voting and FaceBook. / Detonating endless violence, they preach / Symbolic whining to us hushed puppies.

::::::::

(Article changed on June 9, 2013 at 09:15)

Baltimore, 2011 by Linh Dinh

 

Here, do feel the inside of my pocket.
Another day, another bounced check,
Another ream of bills and applications.

Come, you can boost your joking income
By shoplifting, poledancing or shooting, as
Our Prez greets our creditor, who's buying
This nation from nuked sea to corexit sea.
McMansions, abattoirs and car part plants...

Is that a can of sardine down your pants?
Fridge empty, I have no more Monsanto
Main course or side dishes to go with this
Aspartame punch my brood is hooked on.

"Dad, why do I have two heads yet no brain?
Why can't I spell "crook' or "Bernanke'?"

Actually, I don't have kids, for I can barely
Appease bedbugs and banksters, as is.

"Pay your bill now or your phone will explode
In your brokeass face. Cough up, or the FBI
Won't be able to eavesdrop on your palavers.
If you don't settle charges and penalties,
Plus interest, of course, Her Honorable
Janet Napolitano herself will crawl out of
Your plumbing, as you digest Reader's Digest."

Though broke, I'm no boneless chicken,
Fished from a dumpster, no way, for I
Will break my breaker with a shoulder
Mounted weapon of teflon destruction.

I guess we ain't broke enough to reform
Into functioning poems, handcuffs or bombs.
As is, academic jive, voting and FaceBook.
Detonating endless violence, they preach
Symbolic whining to us hushed puppies.

Dragging a trash bag, broke, I'll hunt
The foulest rats, and I will blast them.

Authors Bio:

Linh Dinh's Postcards from the End of America has just been published by Seven Stories Press. Tracking our deteriorating socialscape, he maintains a photo blog.