1. |
SHIT HITS FAN!
02:05
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What did you do out there in the world
before the shit hit the fan?
Can you even explain why you did what you did
before the shit hit the fan?
Do you feel a twinge of nostalgia
for the little things we used to do?
Would you like everything to go back how it was before...?
Oh and what will the children remember
from before the shit hit the fan?
Will they even believe that there was such as time
as before the shit hit the fan?
Will they say, oh, it must be dementia.
Those poor old folks, they just can’t perceive
that the shit’s been hitting the fan all along
—like, continuously, I believe.
Oh and what will we do out there in the world
now that the shit’s hit the fan?
Can we even imagine the things that need doing
now that the shit’s hit the fan?
Can we brainstorm a next course of action?
—Maybe keep the shit down where it goes?
Can we find the big switch that turns off the fan blades
in time? Nobody knows.
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2. |
Hindsight 2020
01:45
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Remember when we used to dance together?
It seems like it was only yesterday!
Remember when the music filled the honky-tonks?
Remember hanging out with friends at a cafe?
Remember when the libraries were open?
Remember when the children went to schools?
Remember when the sneeze guard at the salad bar
Protected us from spreading germs?
—Dear God, we were such fools!
Remember that one-point-five trillion dollars they just
Squandered on that 20-minute-long stock market spree?
Remember how they slashed pandemic
readiness response team funding from the budget of the CDC?
(Yeah! Don't forget it!)
And remember when we used to go to parties
And laugh and hold eachother arm in arm?
Remember shaking hands with total strangers
Without fear of causing some kind of irrevocable harm?
Yes, REMEMBER 2020!
—
Somehow I think we never will forget.
And when we think of 2020,
May it just seem weird and funny
Cause we all stayed sane and healthy
And COVID-19 hadn’t killed us yet.
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3. |
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Stephen Miller and William Barr,
Cruising through town in an unmarked car,
talkin' bout that jackboot goose-step boogaloo.
Well Stephen and Billy pull out their phones
for an incoming text from Alex Jones:
“Let’s do that jackboot goose-step boogaloo”
*** ("Constitution? What constitution?)
The pandemic keeps raging on and on
like a 4chan post from QAnon
all about that jackboot goose-step boogaloo.
With a victory sign from Roger Stone,
Steve Bannon’s all set to flood the zone
with nothing but jackboot goose-step boogaloo.
***
In every city and town across the nation,
Chad Wolf don’t need no invitation
to lead that jackboot goose-step boogaloo.
And if BORTAC doesn’t get their way,
get the Proud Boys and the NRA
to join that jackboot goose-step boogaloo.
*** ("Hey, dude, that's some sweet tactical gear you got there."
("Thanks, man. Love your Hawaiian shirt.")
So help me out ‘cause I can’t parse
Is this one the tragedy or the farce?
As we repeat that jackboot goose-step boogaloo.
And steer clear, Portland, if you can,
From the little green men in the rented van.
They’re doin’ that jackboot goose-step boogaloo.
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4. |
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1.) I got a worried heart.
I got a nervous mind.
I can't get no sleep.
I can't relax and I can't unwind.
I have lived my life--Don't get me wrong.
I'm not afraid to die,
but everything that I read in the papers
says the end is nigh.
2.) The city's on fire.
The smoke will choke you to death.
The whole sky is glowing. There's nowhere to run to.
You can't catch a breath.
Sweet, sweet California,
where once a garden did grow,
now ain't nothing but cinders and ashes,
so's you'd never know.
3.) We could fix this heat.
We could fix these rains.
We could fix all these droughts and wildfires
burning up through these hills and plains.
We could see the light and have the foresight
to do the right [*] things, and then
Summertime would be
sweet and easy once again.
4.) I got a worried heart.
I got a nervous mind.
I can't get no sleep.
I can't relax and I can't unwind.
Sweet, sweet California,
where once a garden did grow,
now ain't nothing but cinders and ashes,
so's you'd never know.
written 20-25 August 2020
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5. |
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the fading light.
the golden hour.
the cusp of night.
the sycamore in flower.
out on the deck.
half-empty wine.
those lightning bugs
still flicker and shine
—like when i was nine.
don’t ask me why
they don’t disappear.
just a few more long sweet sunsets
& then summer’s here.
turn out the lights.
the midnight hour.
can’t get to sleep—
the sycamore’s in flower.
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Failed Poem Records Champaign, Illinois
Champaign-Urbana distilled record label dedicated to limited physical releases.
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