Ever attended a sumptuous repast where everything you wanted was out of reach, unavailable, "off the table". To Raymond Nat Turner, poet-impresario of Oakland's UpSurge Jazz, this sounds suspiciously familiar. Could it happen??
Waiters
(For Caffie, Cindy and Cynthia)
Suppose… the state was a king-sized ATM and money-
Laundering machine for Wall Street Gangs—ludicrous
Criminal enterprise code-named Café Attitude, posing as
Five-star restaurant, where greasy-palmed waiters with Enron
Ethics and Haliburton hands, strut like star-spangled peacocks?
Suppose… armed to the teeth torturers strong-armed customers,
Premium prices for self-service, while customers’ wishes and
Suggestions were 86ed—outrageous restaurant of overbearing
Waiters, browbeating customers: “You’ve paid, now make us serve you!”
Impeachment, please
“Off the table!”
End of Iraq war, please
“Off the table!”
Afghanistan Kibosh?
“Off the table!”
Prosecuted Torturers, rare
“Off the table!”
A side of Single Payer, please
“Off the table!”
Employee Free Choice…
“Off the table!”
Amnesty For Undocumented…
“Off the table!”
Suppose… confused customers ask, “Well, what’s on the table?”
As sullen waiters, grab their crotches, and shout in unison:
“Order up!”
Stuffed Swiss Bank Accounts on Lobbyist Loaf;
Cayman Island TARP in Shadow Government Gravy;
“Order up!”
Sustainable-War Cash Cow with Supplemental Soup;
War Profiteer Pork with Cold Cash Garnish…
“Order up!”
Rotten Red Herring in Homeland Security Sauce;
Disaster Capitalist Crepes with Insurance Gangster Kebobs;
“Order up!”
Bi-Partisan Pork Stew with Arthur Anderson Cooked-Books;
Hot Air Poppycock prepared with Palm Grease…
“Order up!”
Layoff Lasagna with Fresh Foreclosure Salad;
Tighten Your Belt Tuna Melt Po’Boys ;
“Order up!”
Fluffy, Fox Mumbo-Jumbo with Race Card Rice;
Re-Heated Hope Succotash with A Shovel of Salt…
“Order up!”
Stolen Sweat Souffle with White Phosphorus Puree;
Crushed National Liberation Movement Coup-Coup—
Drizzled with Warm, Fresh Blood and Brine of Tears;
“Order up!”
Our Desserts are to die for…
Ton-Ton-Free, Thin –Crust Haitian Mud Pies…
“Order up!”
Af-Pak Pudding with Drone Strike Scones, light,
Flaky, Missile-Studded Scones served with a
Warm Creamy, Vanilla Collateral Damage Sauce;
“Order up!”
High Value Targets served on warm, moist beds of
Blood and guts, tender chunks of flesh in beguiling
Blood and Brain Batter, served on Pulverized Rubble—yum!
“Order up!”
Guantanamo Gelato served on Sheriff Joe’s Sweet Bread;
Waterboard Wedges served with Force Fed Fudge;
“Order up!”
Three Drug Cocktail Capitalist Punishment Punch;
Katrina Strange Fruit Flavored Sorbet; Brownie is extra…
“Order up!”
Suppose… customers, finally, dash for the door, and
Shove aside waiters demanding tips— and 30 pieces of silver?
Raymond Nat Turner © 2009 All Rights Reserved
Raymond Nat Turner is a Bay Area poet and impresario of UpSurge Jazz. Visit them at http://upsurgejazz.com, and pick up one of their CDs.
I am hoping my call will provoke/inspire us to practice forms of life and liveliness differently.
While Biden is telling Haitians “Don’t come over,” Haiti and its allies have been saying “U.S. Out of Haiti.”
The author unpacks the tired trope of “poor rich Haiti,” highlighting the role of foreign capital and local elites in the destruction of life in the countryside.
Guyana’s historically oppressed peoples direct their hostility at each other while neo-imperial powers hide in plain sight and reap the country’s wealth.
When the Covid-19 pandemic cut into corporate profits, the fashion industry simply stole billions from some of the world’s most exploited workers.
