Sunday, March 11, 2007

from the archives

speaking of NOLA reminded me about this thing i wrote after i went down there... it's about a year old, so not all of it applies to the current situation (like, for a while the media actually started doing a half-decent job reporting on events), but a stupid amount of this i think is still true.

Oh my god! we got a bleeder,
and the media feed's beatin' her
and the government is cheatin' her
a city bleeding citizens and
too much of the nation's population
act like situation's not worth facing
don't give a fuck though say we do
we do nothing, are well-to-do, do it well
sit back and watch these folks drown in hell
while we earn cash, we're opening gashes,
slashing our own wrists by leaking out gases
denying we've become fascists
acting calm, happy as clams, innocent lambs
holidaying under a palm tree,
on a Sunday drinkin’ slurpees,
slathering on sunscreen as the tide drifts in
but what we hemorrhage in this age
fuel, oil, chemicals some sages say
will kill our kids, which should enrage us,
spur us to make a fuss
and engage the politics that
we've mislaid somewhere along the way

Toxic compound's clogging our corduroys
Toxic flood water's over our shoulders
Toxic leader won't lift a finger
Toxic atmosphere won't help either
Toxic ground is all around yo
Toxic living is all we know now
Toxic living is like the lotto
Toxic living is our motto

smell the mold on the old dry wall
call some folks to city hall
round up all y'all slackers at the mall
work for a good cause, gives you pause
to see how these lawmakers ain't drawing laws to get more cars
packed with folk gnawing at the bit to get dirt on their paws
instead we got a handful of hippies singing folk songs
but they're in it for the long haul
hauling logs off that were sitting soggy in ponds
that used to be backyards
now they're just yards of nothing at all
ain't just contaminated yards or asphalt
everything's damned—including the earth's salt
those at fault won't take the blame though we insult them,
try to make them pay, they win by default
'cause they don't need results to stash cash in their vaults
but that asphalt's bad—that jagged earth
makes you nurse the most accursed hurts,
you feel like your guts are gonna burst
and you curse the pain, the worst pain you've gained,
remains of degrading health, your sights blurred
speech slurred, driving swerved, face whiskered
'cause you're a fucking mutant cat-bird
from working in subverted dirt
but now you've learned the gospel word
put that tyvek suit on first
you gotta wear 'em in the 9th ward,
even toward the French quarter
or become some invalid
or worse end up some fucked-up retarded with a kid
because of your low class
congress won't save your ass
sure got no insurance or inheritance
or benefit from no marriage tax
breaks is the sound your house makes
and hooray for that 200 bucks babe
that FEMA gave you to get your house made
no two ways about it they shortchanged you
and the only real help they gave
was to help lead you to your grave

a bottle of bleach to erase the waste indeed
so many people waiting to get their lives cleaned
they're dreaming of times that were less mean
when they're wallets weren't as lean
and could hold in hand a tangerine
but now they need handouts
the fallout from this too big to work out
while gutting out houses, they shit in out houses
wondering how come someone would allow this
they're owed better than one of FEMA's trailers
rotting somewhere in Arkansas while they're sawing
some spruce for a ceiling, bioremediating
the oil out of the soil in some son's
school's soiled grounds, toys sittin' spoiled
and a neighbor's hounds sound off so loud,
so loud the levees may burst out another flood to flatten this town
talk about no class, no sense,
this mindless government can't save this monument to culture
all those vultures want is more moisture to get rid of those poor people,
or more poor to use as soldiers
see through the silence to what's scrawled on the wall
that shows where souls fall and says to all,
"beware what lies ahead, the lies of the past will make us dead."
families dying, bodies are lying for weeks in the streets,
in cars, under tables where they used to eat
houses like ice flows, who's under 'em? Who knows?
those roofs sliding off huts, tourists think it's a show
rummaging in the rubble of a hovel
they shovel aside a whole level of a house
and find nothing to save, not even a mouse


Dad said...

Why would I get the feeling that your desire to let your creativity blossom and be seen is being fed from downunder -- food, photos, drawing, language, poetry? Yup, blossoming.

Flushy McBucketpants said...

yeah, i gotta keep myself busy somehow. and i wrote this a year ago. also: please don't use the word blossom unless it's in reference to a delicate flower of some sort. i know you did not just refer to me a delicate flower.