Mewl

pilfered from Allen Ginsberg and
abused by driftglass

Part 1
I saw the pundits of my generation destroyed by
madness, bloated mendacious, pwned,
dragging themselves through the Sunday Mouse Circus at dawn
looking for a vituperative liberal to blame,
flatheaded ideological dumpsters

burning for the ancient, glorious Clintonian connection to the rejuvenating hatred that electrifies the machinery of the Right,
who seriousness and the tattered remnants of grandeur fled
now hollow-eyed and high on the vidal sassoon whiff
of their unnaturally symmetrical hair
sitting and soaking in the false superluminous dawn of
hot studio lights slashing drivel unrebutted into the hearts of homes
contemplating Rove,
who made their brains portions for Fox News,
threw them off the rim of a flat earth,
in trade for Mohammedan bogeymen a-slither in every unpatriotic shadow,
osmoting secret diseases through universities with mysterious Taliban Jaffar Sorcery
that is the mesmerizing hallucination of every Christopath in Arkansas and Hitchens-light tragedy
among the bloggers of war,
who were laughed out from the academies for their Creationist twitter &
publishing bilious twaddle for millions courtesy Regnery Press,
who cowered in stale Cheetoh reeking underwear,
burning their money on warporn and listening
to the Terror through the Hate Radio Glory Hole,
who got are getting busted in their recorded lies,
crawling forever back from secret expeditions to the grave of Mussolini
hiding out in a suit stitched from the flesh of perished New York
who were full of borrowed drunken fire and “kill ‘em’ all”
and “Bring ‘em on” so long at it was other men
dispatched down narrow, incarnadine Paradise Alley,
to traverse the desolate, slaying miles between a bubble-wrapped d.c.
and the melancholy House of Usher,
so long as others were sent in whole and fished out as torsos
night after night
heir to dreams of fire, drugs, and waking nightmares --
the incomparable blindness of the Right sees none of this;
the streets of their Baghdad shudder with merry merchants and cherubs
chin-deep in gratitude and studies of civil rights
cheery little sabu thieves steer flotillas of magic freedom carpets
pestering the desert clouds, while liberty lightning
leaps from province to heart to refinery
illuminating all the motionless world of Time
frozen on September twelfth, thawed, reheated, then tupperwared away for future tyrants to invoke
swaddled in cheerful bunting proclamations by the captains of video
that some nameless mission had been accomplished
…