$13 billion aircraft carriers, $10 pencils
and $500 hammers, renamed “portable
hand-held transcribing devices” and
“impact fasteners;” so war-profiteer pimps—war
lords of Wall Street—can prance the planet with
Pockets looking like they’ve got the mumps!
Mirrored by their henchmen—
gold-braided, junk metal chested generals—and
Schmo Bidens, Schmuck Cheneys, Slick Willys,
Ws, Boss Tweets, Drone Rangers…of The Game…
When they go high…
We
Go
low
Mideast wars: trillions and counting—still,
the sky’s the limit for finding fire-breathing
dragons threatening our freedoms—freedoms
flowing through pipelines 8,000 miles away…
Still, the sky’s the limit bankrolling Egyptian, Israeli,
Jordanian, Ukrainian, Lithuanian, Lebanese, Latvian,
Estonian, Polish, Filipino, Tunisian cutthroat/thugs…
When they go high…
We
Go
low
NEWSFLASH: Ol’ Blak Schmo just struck Syria,
Killing twenty-two, remaking his bones looking
presidential…
NEWSFLASH: swinging rhythms of hammers,
hip harmonies of saws bent on housing the un-
housed are renegade in The Game—outta pocket—
“Cost too much” for guerrilla pimps…in The Game
When they go high…
We
Go
low…
“Universal single-payer healthcare for all?!
What you hoes been smoking?! Who the hell
gonna pay for it?!”
When they go high…
We
Go
low…
“A Green New Deal?! We’ll slap the taste out
your mouths —the only ‘Green New Deal’ you
gettin’ tastes like the backs of our dead president-
Filled hands!!”
When they go high…
We
Go
low…
“Cancel student debt?! Scurvy bitches, you
outta pocket—you know the rules of The Game!!”
When they go high…
We
Go
low…
“$15 an hour minimum wage?! What?!
Have you lot lizards lost your damn minds?!”
When they go high…
We
Go
low…
“Guaranteed annual income?! Why, if you
sluts don’t shut the fuck up you’ll be wearing
three shoes—two on your feet and one up…!!”
When they go high…
We
Go
low…
When they go high…
We
Go
low…
In the race
to
the
Bottom…
© 2021. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
Seven surgeries…
Seven surgeries and missing left leg
later, her gnarled left hand still sends
signals her missing fingers can’t act on—
And she can’t write right-handed…
These are just a few of her least favorite things
about the warfare state of warlords of Wall Street
Left eye blind; left ear deaf; Still he has
surround sound nightmares with
weaponized impotence. And guerrilla
guilt ambushes him in broad daylight—
since his kills are no longer Lombardi Trophies…
And his family practiced ‘social-distancing’
long before physical-spacing was misnamed
during the pandemic…
These are just a few of his least favorite things
about the warfare state of warlords of Wall Street
These are just a few of their least favorite things
about the warfare state of warlords of Wall Street
These are just a few of their least favorite things
about the powder sugar platitudes politicians
parrot—repeat ad nauseam—at press conferences
And from FOX-boxes: (5 X)
“Boots on the ground,” “in harm’s way,” “friendly
fire,” “god bless our brave fighting men and women
around the world…”
© 2021. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
BAR’s poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner is an accomplished performing artist. You can find much more of his work at https://www.youtube.com/user/zigilow
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