Hinky Jinky, Stinky Pinky
The One Percent will play.
Squirrely Shirley Hurly Burly
In the full light of day.
Hop them, bop them;
You can’t stop them.
They’re never going away.
Crying, trying, always lying,
They count on your ignorance.
Hinky Jinky, Stinky Pinky
Wham bam, thank you man.
Daffy, laffy, slappy happy.
What’s the hap? What’s the plan?

Cooked books, buncha crooks.
Loosie, goosey, where’s the noosey?
Flakey, fakey, jump in the lakey.
Take and take, oil of snake,
How much of this can good people take?
Scream and shout, let it all out
Stick it, we’ll show up and picket
You’ll try to trick it, we’ll buy you a ticket
On a rail, feathered, or off to jail.
Subliminal criminals, sentences too minimal
We’ll feel best if you and the rest must
Sell your houses and cars from behind bars.

Smoking butts from ashtrays
And twice-cooked coffee grounds,
Bumming coins from my neighbors
And searching for change on the ground.
Mayonnaise sandwiches daily
And buying ramen by the case
I switched from Coke to iced tea.
I like the difference it makes.

Being poor is a decision I made
It affects virtually everything I do.
It took away some of my decisions
And life is suddenly quite new.

I lay my shirts and pants out flat
Between box springs and mattress.
I’m learning how to cook for myself
And to do better laundry I confess.
I use my friend’s laundry room
And bless him every time I do.
It’s a lovely thing he does for me
So I try hard to reciprocate too.

Being poor really teaches me
What is necessary in my life.
I learned I can survive quite nicely
Using a McDonald’s plastic knife.

I don’t have cable or a cell phone.
I walk and take whatever bus is near.
When I need something like socks
I scrounge and play things by ear.
I go to second hand stores a lot
And yard sales with my few dollars.
And yes, my clothes are getting sad
My shirts have rather fuzzy collars.

Being poor became my choice
When I realized I didn’t have skills.
I catch whatever jobs I can now.
I sure hope poverty doesn’t ****.

I went out poontangin’, just the other day.
I only did it so my friends won’t think I’m gay.
I might like the tang, but the **** not so much.
I much prefer the guys, but am afraid to say.

Two, four, six, eight:
Ain’t it great to deviate!
Seven, eight, nine, ten:
What so great about being straight?

I am tired of what some people say about my life
How I should settle down and get myself a wife
But sooner or later she will choose a game to play
That I don’t want to play, you see, because I am gay.

One, two, three, four:
I don’t want to hide no more!
Two, three, four, five:
I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m alive!

I want to come out, but I don’t want to suffer;
I have to be the true person that I am.
Acting like a rapacious macho lady’s man
Is simply a pose, a body language scam.

Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen:
Please accept the truth you’ve seen!
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and more:
People pleasing is a crashing bore.

Chaining any people up,
Beating them with whips,
Reducing their existence
To ugly racist quips.
Treating them as cattle
And selling them the same
Is horror of the highest stripe
And is nothing like a game.
This is sin.

Using sales people to lie
And bring people here
Then making them slaves
For a long period of years
Then giving them land
That was part of the deal
And treating them as people
Who only lived to steal.
This is sin.

Dividing good people into
"Them and us" is just wrong
Claiming your god is right
And they should move along
So you can resell their land
And make them move elsewhere
With your laws and red lines.
There is no good in that anywhere.
This is sin.

Not accepting that a people
Have the right to their vote
Then changing the rules
Is playing the wrong note.
Being the richest around
Doesn’t make you right.
You still send them to war
Then deny them equal rights.
This is sin.

Denying human rights
Can never be accepted.
It’s sickness to watch when
Loving people are rejected
And robbed and vilified,
Not once, but again and again,
And ***** and murdered
For just the color of skin.
This is sin.

Demanding someone will not
Love who they may want
Is not an attribute that
Anyone should ever flaunt.
Pushing your religion or
You thoughts about decency
Is a heinous way to exist.
It’s a horrible kind of villainy.
This is sin.

250 gals and one old guy
Lusting after me and I know why.
I am a Congressman,
I am a Republican,
And they know what that means.
It means big money in my jeans.
Big money for partying hardy
And if the ****** are smarties
They will kiss a lot of fat ***
And never rebuff a single pass
Made at them, no matter how rudely.
They will see it as their womanly duty
To make me feel that I am great
And lick on my head of state
If so ordered, and quickly,
Even if it makes them sickly
Because I am a Congressman,
And also, I am a Republican.
As such, I am special and divine
So there is no societal line
That I should not ever cross
Because I am now the boss
And you people that voted for me
Are the biggest fools in history.

I am sharing this opus
It's more of an onus
Of just how things went
But were not really bogus.
I earned my life lumps
Racing over speed bumps
Trying to outrun cards dealt
That were not quite trumps.

Still I made it this far
And while I’m not a star
I suited and showed up.
Things are what they are
And I can debate them
But I can’t dispute them.
It would be a big lie
If I tried to refute them.

So my doddering totter
Gets odder and odder
Telling me loudly
I am Grim Reaper fodder.
Some bridges burned,
Another corner turned
Dealing with the effects
Of the lessons learned.

Now an irascible rascal
Far too frequently wrathful
Warring with too-small print
I am the long-retired radical
No longer marching around
Supporting causes I found.
No longer a crusader, I am
A kind of sad circus clown.

I never expected to have it made
Like a grandee in the shade
Sipping my iced mint julep
Rich from making the grade
But  with youthful short sight
I never saw it in this light
That I would fall so short
Of playing things just right.

Still, I have to cut some slack
When I sit here looking back
At where and what I was.
The view is not so black.
While superstars never came,
My lottery dreams were lame,
I feel I did all that could
To honestly play the game.

They didn’t take our rights,
We let them.
They didn’t steal our taxes,
We let them.
They didn’t jigger the laws,
We helped them.
They didn’t become bigots,
They always were.
They didn’t change into crooks,
They always were.
They didn’t take our birthrights,
We surrendered them.
They didn’t arrest criminals,
They arrested us.
They didn’t starve bad guys,
They starved children.
They didn’t steal our Social Security,
They stole all of our security.
They didn’t cancel our insurance,
They gave it to themselves.
They didn’t refuse to raise our wages,
They raised their own.
They didn’t just criminalize us,
They deified themselves.