Warning: the government is reading your poetry!
(Metadata Mining This Site)
If to the world about, you are attentive,
You have imbibed the news that our governmental,
is exercising its parental abusive in-discretionary powers,
Purviewing and purloining our electronic communications,
Causing some to have worrisome palpitations
My life is on the boring side,
So welcome gents to look inside,
The surfed sites, the emails, hardly slimy,
But stay the fk away from my poetry!
Tis obvious from your midnight editing,
That my wordily, working body has been discretely
Simonized,
My data,
Googlized,
My poems,
Scrutinized,
A comma, a colon, a verb, out of place, capsized,
Little threads kept in door jambs, their alteration,
Your snooping presence, a confirming revelation
Will the words Rye Catcher be caught by a filter,
My mocking of Obamacare, be the transmitter,
That becomes a curiosity inflictor, a predictor,
Of your requited, on-this-sited, attentions?
Meta dating women, once a goal, worthy of attaining,
Meta dating mining of poetic alliterations, pertaining
To me and mine, a serious no-no, causing consternation,
Heavy percussing, voters, party swinging in self-flagellation
The information unwittingly provided on HP
Will be used to modulate the time and temperature,
Add certain chemicals in the liquids we drink
Like testosterone in erogenous zones,
Xanax in the air vents in the high schools and colleges,
Hell, they may even put fluoride in the water
Control the atmosphere, fashion styles, population size,
Disclose location to my enemies and my illicit affairs,
(Exposed, leaked to the NY Post's Page Six, to my better halving),
Keep the emotions checked,
Within acceptable parameters,
Especially of those *****, love sick
Senior Citizens, always ready to get down
When poetry-aroused
This narration of condemnation for espying
Will YouTube spread like a new flu virus,
Cause I know where you live and Iam,
Cell phone camera armed and dangerous
On the Internet, your faces, posted
They riot-for-rights in Cairo and Istanbul,
President Obama, we have on good authority,
Your daughters support our rhetoric, no bullsht,
Watch your step, or on you, we'll sic the IRS,
Cause in the end, they work for *us,
Hold on, who's that knocking at my door?
Ah. The things we think of at 3 in the morning. Nonetheless:
|: Who's that knocking at my door? :|
Who's that knocking at my door?
Said the fair young maiden
It's only me from over the sea,
Says Barnacle Bill the Sailor,
I'm all lit up like a Christmas tree,
Says Barnacle Bill the Sailor,
I've sailed the seas until I'm broke,
I drink and swear and gamble and smoke,
But I can't swim a ****** stroke,
Says Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
A perfect example of having a punch line, then figuring out the joke. The joke is on my many friends of liberal, Democratic persuasion. Warning! Another warning poem will be coming, for my insanity is fertile, when past midnight, I dream with, upon my face, this smile, demented. Hell, there it goes, now come, now gone.
