Solid in Gold

“Fiddle-Faddle, Skee-Daddle!"
Scrooge McDuck shplutters,
fondling gold in his gold bathtub
awash w/specie from every gold
vendor & minter in the world.

“Gold makes th' world go‘round',”
McDuck sing-songs, “Oh, gold,
gold, gold, oh, gold, gold, gold!”
Pluck him: he’s totally golden
under his cold silvery feathers.

You expected to find - sterling?
McDuck Bank was solid in gold
before Goldman Sachs wasn't.


(25 SEP 08, Santa Clara CA)v7

Wall St.{vs} Gold

(not for Goldman Sachs)

Wall St., Wallet St., up-against-the-Wall St.,
what’s it matter if you’ve been wiped-out?
What you call it, where it is, is insignificant
vs whether it’s safe against total wipeout.
Who do you know who thinks money’s safe?
Inside everyone’s head’s a cold vault of gold
hidden somewhere in Switzerland, safe,
sunk deep in lakes like stolen Nazi gold,
gold, gold, gold. Anyone surnamed Gold
(e.g., San Francisco novelist, Joe Gold)
must think night & day: “I’m solid Gold.”
W/silver-change you can surely call home,
tho, for now, you have a cell-phone, Gold.

(24 SEP 08, Santa Clara CA)v10

Do It!

Do The Obvious

Obviously,

it’s the thing2do
the nexttime
you’re asked2do
whatever itis
you’re asked2do.

Y w@ste Time
or eNergy or
mOney or
bre@th?
Justdo
it!

(23 SEP 08, Santa Clara CA)
.

McCain, razing

“Shit floats!" chirps McCain
shaving w/a straight-edge
in the campaign morning;
"Kick Black Ass!”
his dark-side grumbles.

He frets he can't trust
Sarah to gum him.
“Her teeth bit Obama’s
black-ass,” he says,
"but her gums?”

Gumming's for McCain;
sucking's for her baby,
fucking's for her husband.
McCain bites his inner jaw,
draws blood, cries in pain,

“Where’s Sarah? Sarah?!
Find me a styptic pencil."

(22 SEP 08, Santa Clara CA)v12

OK, OK, OK!

The dream dissolves when sub-dreams
can’t be factored to yield more dreams;
once a dream's lost, no new dream arises.

Disneyworld's our common dreamworld;
dress up as Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, et al.,
& nobody bothers to think anything of it.
It’s all OK w/them - if the former USA

becomes OK; OK, our only state; OK City,
our OKapital; & everyone say: “I’m OK!”
(If it’s all @ dream, it's OK with them.)

(23 SEP 08, Santa Clara CA)v15

Getchya boxa rahks!

(in Bahs'tin dialect; in re: OSH's radio-ads.)

Commoditizin' a wooden cu.yd. boxa rahks is
OK w/landscapahas, transhippahs, & buildahs,
but if you can finda missin' link in this chain
you’d liketa fill in, speak up! Speakin' PR,
I’d liketa add booze-talkin' radio commercials
that'll move all those rahks outta nurseries
& onta the serigraphic yards of homeownahs,
landscapahs of malls & humongous hotels.
Wheah all those rahks cum frum, nobody
really wantsta know. “From wheah rahks do”
is about all the disclosha you’re gonna get.
Wantchya heavy wooden boxa rahks/not?

(20 SEP 08, Santa Clara CA)v7

Sitting on Bibles

(defending marriage-for-all)

From earliest childhood,
literalists must sit on Bibles
at the table to be able to eat;
years later, they're still sitting
on Bibles, compressing them.
But what's in them? Not
what they heard as kids:

God loves them. Why? They
don't know, denying God's
all is all, their brains frozen..
All is all = everyone's included,
male/female, gay/straight.
Marriage joins everyone willing
to say they're married.

Brain-frozen literalists believe
Noah's Ark's on Mt. Ararat,
emptied of its passengers,
now endlessly bred-out,
& we're their progeny

Let's save our World
from Biblical nonsense
& literalist rigidities. Let's
shape up, or ship out to
our moon or reddy Mars,
deserted aeons ago.

(17 SEP 08, 4:41 PDT, Santa Clara CA)v11