Hey, it’s summer, the traditional season for reruns. Given the shenanigans now unfolding in the hallowed halls of American government and around the world, I couldn’t resist bringing out this piece of mine from January 2011. Lest you believe this is off-topic for this blog, remember that all forms of human evolution require that the old ways prove themselves irrelevant so that the new can be born. Be sure to hover over the art for a full description of the artist’s intent.
When speaking in verse of the human condition
Must one always rely on high-toned erudition?
For truly, are we not mere clowns playing life
In rapture phonetic laced with angst, grief and strife?
Wherein lies the humor, the repartee comic?
She pines to stand tall midst the ethos ironic
A pratfall, fair guffaws, a pie in the face –
Appropriate prescriptions for our de-volving race –
Aye, now there’s a gift! Minus hint of hesitation
To culture constrained by e-constipation.
Bring on peeled bananas, the jackass to ride
More Emperors unclothed, more cheeses who slide
On their arses, exposed, flapping limp in the breeze
Perfect prey, say ye not, for the taunt and the tease?
They’ve brought all attention to their egoic antics
Midst the g-spotted glare of their dogma pedantic!
No need to shun or array with a ragged letter scarlet
(Such an act disrespects every authentic harlot!)
The panoply of power, garbed in shoddy display
Of false accusation, of unfinished plays
Now tumbles with sudden, spectacular speed
(Oh look! That one’s writhing in the dung of his steed!)
The petards have been hoisted, rope taken down from the shelf,
The crowd’s fervor eruptive, “Oh, just go (hang) yourselves!
One need not be a scholar nor student astute
To see rotten fruit falling by dint of mouldering root
So prepare for the gleaning, cream will rise to the top,
Yet first all these festering pustules must stop
Rattling sabres and feigning true might
(Soon enough, in due time, all will be set right)
But for now, look straight on at this vaudeville rendition
Of the absurd and hysterical human condition.
The world is a stage, buffoons have hijinked the chorus
Pants around ankles, they parade now before us
Dare not look away, it will only inspire them
(They truly believe that we somehow admire them)
Instead offer a wink, a giggle or snort –
Truth will rise, they will fall, these rank fools come to court.