Red Tin Noodles

The government wants your uterus.
Please mail it in a plain brown package
to Fetus Force, A.C.B. div. /SCOTUS9.
It will be reprogrammed, micro-chipped,
patriotically decorated and returned
with proper child-bearing instructions.
A list of government-approved names
and occupation choices will be included.
Fetus Force trackers will trace slackers
and offer standard sterilization services.
Strong and healthy babies will be eligible
for the maga-race initiation program,
and even the future leaders honor roll.
Promising infants may be enrolled
in our SocietyWantsAllMotivatedPeople
training school in a highly secret location.
Please comply immediately.
Do not risk the wrath of Fetus Force.

He’s a loser, just like you, sir.
You, who are his base.
He’s just a con whose time has come.
His suit might match his face.
Throw away that MAGA hat,
in thirty-six days moot.
It will mean,”My Ass Got Axed,”
after he gets the boot.
He cheated on his taxes, yes.
But that’s not the main point.
He’s in loan debt up to his hair.
Soon he’ll be in the joint.
And if orange is the new black,
rich folks investigated,
some more big cons could face his fate,
brought down, incarcerated.

The orange king has charged that sleepy Joe is using drugs,
the kind, in sports, called performance enhancing.
The first debate, they both should be injected with cocaine,
and then forced into hours of disco dancing.
The orange king knew that scene well when he was in his prime.
He boogied at Studio 54.
Looking back, it may well have been his most active time.
He’d go home with a model or a whore.
A dance-off now could be a test. He can’t walk down a ramp.
Did jivin’ Joe do blow in Delaware?
Aside from all the aches and pains and falling on the floor,
the key could be what happens to their hair.

Universal torment is the nature of the game.
Sometimes it’s right, and then the rules just change.
What was, still is, and evermore shall be, but not the same.
And laws, like mad chess pieces, rearrange.
And since the game is run by man, then one must have the rein.
But who appoints that man is still in question.
And what if, at the helm, that man goes visibly insane?
Then who steps forward to make a suggestion?
We dig back through history and analyze commotions,
war, plague, heresy and insurrection.
We vet anger, hatred, greed and other crass emotions,
then boil them down to one big fake election.
A melting pot of irony, grief, graft and family trees
is stirred until it naturally boils over.
And that’s where torment really starts, with people on their knees,
dosed by ennui as devils play red rover.

Biden’s going to hand his presidency to Kamala,
then hide in the oval office like it was Valhalla.
That’s the latest racist charge from our beloved leader.
It’s the kind of thing that makes a perfect FOX news feeder.
Cory Booker in the suburbs, sneaking through your yard,
stealing clothing off your line. You know that times are hard.
Watch out for Dem congressman Jeffries. First name is Hakim.
They’ll put him in charge of sleep and he’ll invade your dream.
Then there’s AOC and her squad bud Ilhan Omar.
They will tax you ’til you just have quarters in a jar.
Gays and anarchists will sway your children in their schools.
And ‘Shifty” Schiff’s swift socialism will be our new rules,
It’s all right there in front of you, just listen to the chatter.
So, don’t vote Joe. He’s got to go. He thinks that Black Lives Matter.

We thought Mitt gave a shit,
but now he’s shown his hand.
He’s just another drummer
in the orange marching band.
So RGB’s replacement
will be named Saturday,
soon’s they get her coffin
out the fucking way.
It’ll be a woman, sure,
but she won’t have Ruth’s heart.
Well, at least it’s not Ted Cruz.
Guess that’s a good start.
Only thing can stop this now,
four senators with guts.
But then they risk the usual,
death by a million cuts.
And so the top court in the land
will tilt way to the right.
As long as Trump’s the upper hand,
the rule is fight or flight.

This thing didn’t make folks die.
That was all a great big lie.
History will be amended.
Other truths have been upended.
Oh, sure, we defeated ISIS.
And there was no climate crisis.
Iraq’s WMD’s
were a true fact, if you please.
Iran-Contra did not happen.
That was just the left’s mouth flappin’.
JFK’s assassination:
one man, one gun, no sensation.
All that talk of Great Depression,
made up in a bullshit session.
Now this trend to balk at police,
anarchists’ new golden fleece.
History always re-edits.
That’s how good guys get their credits.
Some facts live and some are buried.
Lies and truth have long been married.
Those who criticize our past
find the future changes fast.

This mother fucking twenty-twenty has its share of shots aplenty.
But no one saw this Ruth thing coming, Democrats despondent, bumming.
Ovid could not have predicted politics so self-afflicted.
Before you can take a breath, Mitch McConnell’s on her death,
singing that we soon shall see our dear king’s next nominee.
Amy Coney Barrett takes the top with no surprises.
A seventh child with seven children, anti-Roe surmises.
Forty-five days we thought would be most excruciating
now loom as a forward zoom toward future carbon dating.

Look, over in the corner.

Our king has built
a castle of mistakes.
On shifting sands.
And still the waves don’t reach.
Seaweed lashes walls,
snails charge
and seagulls peck the gates.
But the tide will decide.
And the moon adjusts its volume.

He didn’t want a panic.
He hates to see us manic.
Just die and go in peace.
Some day this thing will cease
and go away like magic.
Oh, sure, it was quite tragic.
As long as stocks do not decline,
everything will be just fine.
New rising employment figures,
boosted by need for grave diggers,
show that we will come back stronger,
even if this goes on longer.
Watch them all fight for vaccines.
Gee, I love my pharma queens.
It wasn’t so much a reach
when I told folks to drink bleach.
Saves the family getting sicker.
Culls the herd a whole lot quicker.
Next disease, I need some stats,
showing it kills Democrats.
Sure, I’ll get a lot of flack,
targeting the brown and black.
Hark back to the great wild west,
where the white man could “be best.”
No one dared threaten their guns.
If they did, they were dead ones.
U.S. can be great once more.
Just eliminate the poor.
Autocrats and working serfs.
Blue states gone, just like the Smurfs.
Ted Cruz named to Supreme Court
will make sure moms can’t abort.
Supreme General William Barr,
just awarded his tenth star,
will maintain an enforced peace.
All protest will henceforth cease.
Without all the thugs and haters,
life will be good for dictators.
People crying to be free?
They are all just dead to me.

An Irish bouzouki, when played by a Wookie
can be mournful, hearty or hairy.
But in a quartet with the bad Boba Fett
on his lute the results were just scary.
Yoda had to save face up on his washtub bass.
Crazy Lando went Toth-wild on skins.
But when the music ended, the Empire unfriended.
And so, a new Star Wars begins.

Trump just confessed everything on tape.
Bill Barr now wants us to fund Trump’s rape.
Mike Pence is going to a QAnon rally.
B&B Inferno opened, California Valley.
The land’s afire, like a worn out tire,
and Frisco’s skies are red.
Trump knew the danger, fucking liar,
now they’re HIS COVIDead.
There is not a bandage big enough to cover this.
Hold this in your mind: his off-to-prison goodbye kiss.