The midwest tundra
swallows super-bowl trophies
and
replaces them
with
black-bottomed **** bubbles.

It dares most of us to do better,
while laughing in our faces,
forcing us to watch
as the kid we’re cheering for
cashes checks
for more money
than we’ll likely ever see,
but we cheer anyway,
as the offensive line crumbles,
the ground game is static,
and the receivers have fingers
glazed with margarine.

Like the zebras,
we throw the flag,
assess and accept the penalties,
and
acquit the insurrectionists
regardless of their guilt or innocence.

The previous commander-in-chief
wrote all those *******
a bison-horned,
organic jailhouse chow-hall
type hall pass,
so why the hell shouldn’t we riot
in the ******* streets,
or the halls of the executive branch
of the local,
state,
and
federal, feral governments
of the ungovernable?


Leave well enough alone
and
Elon Musk,
Jeff Bezos,
and
Bill “Microchip Vaccine” Gates
will figure it all out for us anyway.

Whatever happens,
*******’ Mark “Lieutenant Data” Zuckerberg
will keep us
all placated and engaged online
while the drone-strikes commence.


Social media keeps us
unaware of our socio-political/socio-economic saboteurs.

Who cares?
Aren’t there some cat-vids
on
Tic-Tacky
or whatever it’s called?

How much longer
do you think it’ll be
before we can live-stream
a state-sanctioned execution?

Phillip K. **** called
and
left a message for George Orwell.

He said something about
wanting his electric sheep returned
before Big Brother and The Holding Company
found out it’d gone missing.

Neither the electric sheep itself
nor
Janis Joplin were available for comment,
or hadn’t you herd?

Diplomatic Immunity?
Mutiny?
Mutations?
Economic,
ergonomic,
erogenous stimulation package?

Where do I sign up?

*
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2021