America is a Cop Show

The Ballad of Knee-jerk Holler

America is a cop show
That started way back when
A slave took off and got away
And they fetched him back again

America is a sitcom
Where life is neatly framed
The laughs are prerecorded
And the foil neatly blamed

America is a racket
A scheme that is sublime
It lets the rich stay filthy rich
On someone else's dime

America is an advert
Tells you how to spend the buck
You worked so hard to pocket
At that job you got by luck

America is that famous city
Shining on a hill
That once belonged to someone else
The ones we had to kill

America is a voter
Empowered to enthrone
The one who keeps the system rigged
Who tosses you the bone

America is a grifter
Who lied his way to power
That many still support him
Is a situation dour

America is a system
Designed to self-correct
It barely pulled it off this time
It very nearly wrecked

America is a dreamer
Full of hope and faith and cheer
Who takes his knocks and gets back up
To face another year

Chappaquiddick

a fly landed on my screen
and I reflexively tried to click on it
but it flew away, up and over the horizon
to newly discovered lands, resplendent
verdant places labeled with exotic
names cribbed from the antediluvian
aboriginals, and over time, saddled
with strange new meanings

The Fourth of You Lie

Jolly England stretches, reaches
plucks herself some jolly peaches
in America, her new-found land.

The Colonies, ungrateful leeches
organize with sword and speeches
sever their dependence, ain’t it grand?

Now the colony beseeches
with military might, “to each his
own,” except the grabs that we have planned.

You that’s got the world’s peaches
we will take, as finance teaches:
you don’t like it you can go pound sand.