Ximmi Moon

Rookie (The 7th of Nisan / From a scene in South Carolina)

Greed's Own Deity - Poem by Ximmi Moon

Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Go directly to jail!

Make the masses owe and fetch their collars. It's your soul on sale.

Washington would be proud for immortalizing him now,

But Mussolini got hooked before he could say, 'Ciao! '

Father Abraham had many guns. Many guns had father Abraham,

Protecting the corporate funds of Lady Liberty and Uncle Sam.

So if you're a sick conformist phuck with a suit and a badge,

You ain't nothing more than a whore with sand in her vadge -

Ready to spread her disease from sea to shining sea,

Willing to be on her knees at the sound of the next decree

Proposed to enslave, enrage, torture, and mar

If only to crave the wage to insure their car

Speeding over the highways of a police-state,

Needing closure by raise from the local magistrate,

Who pledges allegiance to the bombs, bullets, and blood -

Straightedges, in sequence, Islam's caskets to flood

Their ego with omnipotent thoughts and pockets of rust.

Fear, we know! Impotent robots manned rockets of trust

Federally reserved in the depths of concealed desolation,

Baldly obscured for adepts to reveal the sensation

Felt when God conquers the mortal minds -

Spelled men nod (moron curse) . A portal finds

Greed's own deity within paper, plastic, and coins;

Seeds sown craftily christen raper classic; hand enjoins

Life support from the ones who've dominated you:

Signed, sealed, delivered, once emancipated, now through

Into circulation, entering your convoluted bloodstream.

A new circus nation centering toward polluted mainstream

Media propagating fear, like a puppet on a string.

Feed ya legislating cashier. Reich, shove it damn machine!

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 21, 2010

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