[Newspoetry] for the next four more

[William at Spineless Books]

We hate this job: 
newspoet 
wanna quit 
The pay 
let's face it 
ain't there 
And the news 
well 
it ain't no bed 
of roses are red 
it's more like 
violence is blue 
black and white 
blood red all over 
Naw it's a bed of thorns 
not a crown of any kind 
except maybe a crowning insult 
to injury 
salt in our wounds 
when it reigns its poor 
We thought 
shit! 
That's it! 
we'll get Nader in there 
and we'll retire 
we'll sell the site 
to NBC or 
Microsoft or 
Eastgate Systems 
after all 
We'll move on to 
writing 
newsromancenovels 
and newswesterns 
and say

"Remember when poetry 
was political? That was 
a bad time. So many trees 
went unwritten about 
or were bombed 
or destroyed 
by deforestation 
to print so many 
copies of the 
Starr Report"

Seems so long ago

We got no checks 
and balances anymore 
We maybe gonna getta 
dumbass fratboy 
in the white house 
I woke up 
afraid of the police 
and knew that this morning 
I had to come to work 
at the newspoetry HQ 
and the news was going 
to be ickier than ever 
stickier than ever 
nothing you could 
make a poem out of

Another day 
another four years

We got to keep 
writing 
electronic political poetry 
kids 
because 
while campaigning 
Dubya said 
with reference to the Internet 
and websites critical of his ass:

"there ought to be 
limits to freedom."

Congress shall make no law preventing an establishment of a goofy website, 
or prohibiting the free updating thereof; or abridging the freedom of 
poetry, or of the Internet; or the right of the people electronically to 
assemble, and to harangue the government for a redress of grievances.

Keep on writing 
Keep on pushing the limits 
Keep on pissing on the limits 
Keep on cussing 
Keep on dissing Johnson 
Keep on tracking those tips 
Keep on reading those 
bulldozed trees 
known as newspaper 
Keep on keeping on trucking 
Trying to take back what is ours: 
language

I REGRET TO INFORM YOU 
THAT YOU HAVE NOT BEEN TERMINATED

Keep on screaming about it 
so loud the Whole Wankin' Web can hear 
It's the crossword puzzle 
we have to bear