Thursday, November 29, 2007

Fire On Me Gently




What to say?
What to say?
Another day
Uneasy in the U.S.A.
Queasy to the core
The government
That ten dollar whore
Blowing us down some dark alley
With all the world watching.

I'm ashamed of what's become of us!
Of where we're headed
And not just a little scared
(I'm willing to admit
Like John Lennon being tailed by the feds)
Of some new terrorist threat, real or Fox-fed & spun

And three, two, one..
Welcome to Martial Law, my fellow Americans!
We'll just nip that presidential election shit right in bud.

Because Mr. Bush doesn't NEED to give up the Presidency, no no!

Not when the nation's at threat
And you can bet if there's another 911 a-brewing
That old George W will turn the TV a blind eye
And let the planes, missiles, bombs a-fly
Until it's all over but the curfew
Security lock down, nationwide
Orange alert my ass-cid stomach upset
I see red skies at morning.

Americans, take warning.
The fuel is already aflame
And I'm uneasy
Queasy to the core
Because all they gotta do
Is pour on some more.

-RSM


[Author's note: the preceding poem wasn't intended to be the song of doom that inevitably came out of me. I was actually just going to write some light little ditty to go with "Flameout," the very cool little movie shot and edited with style by my talented cousin Justin Alessandro. Created out of Justin's video capture of a little camp stove fuel accident on the Appalachian Trail in 2004, Flameout is fun & funny. I hope you'll take a minute now to click the link above and watch it for a little laugh and easing of the freakout vibe that strikes me whenever I ponder the eerie possibilities of our precarious position as a still-semi-free nation under God and GWB. Personally, I'm praying that God is our pilot, not, as the Christians are fond of saying, "my copilot."]