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Revolt as Pabulum, A Father’s Pledge, In These Dark Aisles

Paul Lojeski: I read the story and saw the photo of the father of another victim of yet another fucking, mad gun rampage that is becoming a daily occurrence in this sick and twisted land of the free to buy any gun, any time and home of cowardly psychopathic murderers.
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Revolt as Pabulum

John Stewart is the rebel commander
of an army of laughing corruption,

Stephen Colbert, Chief Satirist
in charge of defeating the opposition

by bloody parody. Both deflecting
actual rebellion into the pitter patter

of harmless guffaws and riotous
applause, the way the Simpsons

have expertly done for decades.
Revolution in America has become

a comic circus, TV the new Coliseum
where Liberals get their kicks, where

by watching, a righteous subversion
is bestowed upon their Lexus-driving

lives. They become part of a movement
of fake radicalism and a new American

conformity, disguising surrender and
complicity to outwit honesty and self-

reflection, to avoid risk and action,
the shield against cowardice and greed,

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a clever manifestation of apathy as
activism, a bold satire of rebellion, itself.

The result is Obama and the coming of
the second Clinton. Now that’s comedy.

A Father's Pledge

I read the story and saw the photo
of the father of another victim
of yet another fucking, mad gun
rampage that is becoming a daily
occurrence in this sick and twisted
land of the free to buy any gun,
any time and home of cowardly
psychopathic murderers.
In unimaginable agony, his guts
torn to pieces by the sheer insanity
of the killing and theft of the precious
he begot and raised and loved
with every fiber of his being,
he stands, bent and sobbing,
completely broken. I have
a young daughter, too, and I’m
barely able to confront his pain
because if a gun-crazed, pissed-off
reject of this murder-happy, hellhole
of a country opens fire and blows
my flesh and blood into the everlasting
darkness, it will be the moment I take
advantage of the NRA’s evil power
and pick up all the cold steel I need
to take furious and bloody revenge
every day until the day of my death.

In These Dark Aisles

Worked the big box
store today, selling,
selling, selling to make

rent, to afford another
breath, to see one more
morning sky.

Feet on fire, back bent
and flaming, old man
hanging on by a raging

highway of the obese
and mostly beaten looking
for deals, carts mountains

of hope, banging into each
other. Tempers flaring,
barking like out on the

roads and why not, nothing
in here’s any good, either,
truth as plain as day.

But, hey, try this health
drink. It’s all natural. I drink it
all the time. And look at me!

Paul Lojeski