[Newspoetry] Re: Maybe not Florida...

[Donald L Emerick]

"Maybe not Florida."

Suppose you overhear that Al Gore hiss 'em,
(Whiskers may whisper some hip algorithm!)
That would justly explain intimately his pulse --
No! No! It's not possible logic to so revulse
By quotidian norms any universal harmony:
Clear thought of such Gore in full symphony.

Envy roots as evil nosings, leading affections.
Hollywooden subtlety rules us out all too well.
Transference comes in as virtue's corrections,
And, by essence, does populate vacuous hell.
Envy seizes upon our reply to empty invitation:
You appear both villain and hero unto a nation.

Man in the street avoids being Al at any cost.
That's why he had lost before he had tossed
His hat into the ring and rung the welkin sky.
His booming phrases sounded hollow cases,
Of a Gore who would be heir today (oh my!),
Goon tomorrow, nor recall their eager faces.

I could imagine myself as a Nader or a Bush,
For they are so full of love virgins would flush
At their hot ardors wantonly forward, pressed
As signal that each by his love was distressed.
For one loved people as, by right, owe a duty
While reformer gave dignity to human beauty.

All pure pundits and political prognosticators
Offered headlines of "Gore wins" as forecast
Basing their predictions, cognosed indicators,
On how people actively voted in a recent past.
No model by any omen could bear to disagree
With normal history projected forward reliably.

A strong chance to win certifies no sure victory.
Voters all over took "Gore wins" as maledictory
Of what they, in loves of their own, feared most
A man with no life of his own as the party host:
Big Al was nagging prude in some bragging tiff,
Who sincerely loved none of the working stiff.

Gore lost because laws of envy accept no rule.
No one could envy that unenviable VP's stool,
He cornered us dunces -- punished into sitting
Out those amorous dances in life's gay revue.
Gore was only nothing in search of something,
Not our true partner in wanting, awaiting adieu.

When we ferret out causes of Gore's ruination,
We need no fine esoteric academic seeking 
After us, saying, reflexively, with no rumination,
That he lost everything everywhere, speaking
Brightly of ought-to-be-betters-than-they-are:
Brazen new worlds may not be Florida's Star.

Maybe not Florida, maybe Texas had a star,
Lonely, unseen in a strong light, bucephallic.
Such might explain a mass appeal, en carre,
Of a Madonna Hell marries to heaven metallic.
Maybe no Florida match or rematch was maid
To bride this Gore in bed, wedding de Sade.

Dare I even mention that Nader's home-state
Voted for someone other than her native son?
Nader's planet lost to a brilliant evil desecrate.
Two-headed cows pretend sacrifices of bullion.
Two heads must somehow be better than one,
To avoid a contrarian's guillotinic assumption.

Baal has many prophets, full of bull and belief,
That a people in hot desires tell us their beef:
Nothing good comes; bad entrails us its grief,
And hence good is ever smaller, in stark relief,
As madly cut cults sacrifice unto idols graven.
Baal stars his Minotaur BullBoy as miscraven.

More is not better -- not even twice as much.
What would be better has some quality of life,
Not quantities counted over as such-and-such.
Baalshem do not know why you'd suffer strife
For peace silently inhales every name of God,
Royal purple veins flow under a golden ephod.

More is no better -- two heads less than one.
I tried to think Gore thinking of being undone.
I think Gore is finished -- we'd lost if he'd won.
We lost because such a Hydra-headed beast
Gives us no alternative as a bull for our feast.
Yes, condemn us, maybe not Florida, at least.

Thanks for listening,
To this broken recording,
This break in recording,
This record of breaking
And entering your ears,
Entering on your fears,
Entrancing, you dears,
Thanks, aglistening,
Donald L Emerick