Tag: Mesa

David Tabor Phoenix Poet AZpoetry.com

David Tabor

David Tabor: Analog Artist, Photographer, and Arizona Poet

A Creative Rooted in Arizona’s Poetry and Art Scene

David Tabor is a multidisciplinary artist whose creative journey blends poetry, photography, and performance. Based in Arizona, Tabor made his early mark in the local poetry slam community, creating zines that featured his work and the work of fellow poets. His passion for the written word evolved alongside his deep love of visual storytelling—capturing life through analog photography and hand-crafted zines.

Poetry Slam Veteran and DIY Publisher

Tabor was an active voice in Phoenix’s spoken word scene, performing and producing zines during the Essenza Coffee Shop days. His eye for aesthetics and reverence for authenticity gave rise to a body of work that valued intimacy, imperfection, and the handmade. Zines were often his publishing medium of choice, a perfect format for sharing raw, immediate poetic experiences with a grassroots audience.

A Return to Analog Photography

During the pandemic, Tabor returned to one of his earliest creative loves: analog photography. Drawing on skills he developed in the ’90s, he embraced traditional film, darkroom printing, and a slower, more contemplative process. In just a few years, he produced four photo zines and honed a distinctive style centered on “finding beauty in what’s already there.”

His photographic work often explores ordinary moments and overlooked textures of urban and natural spaces. Through zines and hand-printed darkroom pieces, Tabor invites audiences to experience stillness and see the poetry embedded in the everyday.

Collaboration and Connection

One of his proudest accomplishments is a collaborative photo book with artist Lisa Tang Liu. The project was a labor of love—combining visual artistry and editorial rigor, and pushing Tabor’s creative boundaries further than ever before.

Bells, Books, and Improvisation

When he’s not behind the camera, David Tabor works as a bell maker and staff photographer at Cosanti Originals in Paradise Valley, Arizona. The overlap of craftsmanship in both photography and bronze casting has become part of his artistic ethos—use the tools at hand, trust the process, and let the work speak for itself.

A man of many talents, Tabor is also an ordained minister. He once performed spontaneous wedding ceremonies during “7 Minutes in Heaven,” a beloved performance series at Phoenix’s Space 55 Theater.

The Perspective of Time

Tabor attributes much of his recent success to personal growth and perspective. Once deterred by self-doubt, he’s come to embrace failure as a stepping stone in the creative process. Whether through poetry, photography, or zines, David Tabor continues to explore new frontiers while remaining rooted in authenticity and intention.

Posted in Poets  • 
Hang On To Your Chairs Ass Bomb poem by Bill Campana AZpoetry.com

Hang On To Your Chairs (Ass Bomb) by Bill Campana

“Hang On To Your Chairs (Ass Bomb)” by Bill Campana

Hang on to your chairs, I’m going back to school.

I’m getting my degree, a doctorate in science.
I’m going to MIT to study mathematics, quantum mechanics, nuclear physics
and whatever else it takes to get me to achieve my goal.

Because I am going to invent a bomb
a bomb that will shame all other bombs
I’m going to invent a bomb that will kill no one,
but will wipe everybody on their ass
right off your feet
flat on your ass
and then I am going to fire up another one
just in case I might have missed some people
who were sitting at the time
and then had gotten up just to investigate the commotion.

All over the world, on the appointed day
phones will ring.
The people calling will say,
“I fell on my ass at 10 o’clock this morning.”
and the people they are speaking with will reply,
“That’s funny… so did I…”

Newspapers will print enormous headlines:

AND THEN WE ALL FALL DOWN

DEATH TOLL ZERO AS WORLD FALLS ON ITS’ ASS

BILL UNLEASHES WEAPON OF ASS DESTRUCTION

I will show you,
that you can have a sense of humor,
that mass destruction just ain’t where it’s at.

Not terrorism, but performance terrorism.

So like that bomb the Soviet Union
dropped on us in the mid-sixties,
that bomb that made everybody want to say
the word “fuck”
freely
in public
forever.

Man, that was fucked up.

But when I walk down the street
with my silver squared
and my beard held high
people will say, “there goes Bill.
He invented the Ass Bomb.
He’s really not such a bad guy.”

I can see it now.
I will become Time Magazine’s “Ass of the Year”.
I will win the Nobel Prize for Ass
and with my winnings,
support an network of underground ass-droppers.
Getting through airport security
will be as easy as dropping trow.

And you will thank me.
Someday, you will ALL thank me,
from the bottom of your bottoms,
for being making global terrorism silly
and ground zero cleanup
nothing more than dusting off your pants.

So, hang on to your chairs.

I don’t know how I’m going to do this.
But, I’ll never find out
until I get up off my ass
and try.

Transcribed from “Hang On To Your Chairs (Ass Bomb) from The Hit List 2 by Bill Campana.

Listen to the poem “Hang On To Your Chairs (Ass Bomb)” from the spoken word album The Hit List 2 by Bill Campana.

About the poet Bill Campana

Summary and Analysis of “Hang On To Your Chairs (Ass Bomb)” by Bill Campana

Bill Campana’s poem “Hang On To Your Chairs (Ass Bomb)” is a wild, irreverent ride through performance poetry and political satire, packed with wit, absurdity, and a surprising undercurrent of hope. With his trademark humor and grounded delivery, Campana envisions a world-changing invention—not a bomb of destruction, but one of disruption. This imagined “Ass Bomb” doesn’t kill or harm. Instead, it knocks everyone flat on their backsides—an act that, in the poet’s vision, serves to unite, disarm, and humble humanity in one shared, absurd experience.

Summary

In this hilarious and sharply satirical piece, the speaker declares his intention to go back to school and study complex sciences—quantum mechanics, nuclear physics, and mathematics—not to build a weapon of mass destruction, but a weapon of “ass destruction.” This bomb won’t maim or kill; it will simply knock everyone off their feet. Whether standing, sitting, walking, or talking on the phone, people around the world will fall to the ground in synchronized, undignified unison.

The poet imagines global headlines reacting to this act of performance terrorism:

“AND THEN WE ALL FALL DOWN”
“DEATH TOLL ZERO AS WORLD FALLS ON ITS’ ASS”
“BILL UNLEASHES WEAPON OF ASS DESTRUCTION”

The piece swerves between the ridiculous and the reflective, revealing the poet’s wish for a gentler, funnier kind of revolution—one that uses laughter instead of violence. He points to a cultural shift in the 1960s where, in his words, “that bomb that made everybody want to say the word ‘fuck’ freely in public forever” broke down barriers of censorship. Now, his own imagined bomb would break down political and ideological barriers with comedy, reminding people that “mass destruction just ain’t where it’s at.”

By the end, the poem circles back to a personal call to action. The speaker doesn’t yet know how he’ll accomplish this dream, but one thing is certain: he has to get up off his ass and try.

Analysis

Campana masterfully uses humor to critique our obsession with violence, weaponry, and the spectacle of destruction. By flipping the traditional function of a bomb—from devastation to harmless absurdity—he challenges societal norms around power and conflict resolution. His “Ass Bomb” becomes a metaphor for a unifying jolt, an equalizer that reminds everyone—world leaders, ordinary citizens, and even the poet himself—that we all fall down sometimes.

This poem is classic Bill Campana: irreverent, self-aware, deeply human, and delivered with a wink and a truth bomb. The poem functions not just as a performance piece, but also as a vision for an alternative kind of power—one that doesn’t rely on fear but on humility, connection, and shared laughter.

It’s also a subtle commentary on agency and action. As the poem ends with,

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this. / But I’ll never find out / until I get up off my ass / and try.”

Campana speaks not just of his fictitious invention, but of the creative act itself—the need to rise and create, even if you don’t have the blueprint yet.

➡️ Ready to experience more of Bill Campana’s bold, boundary-pushing poetry?
Visit his poet bio page on AZPoetry.com and discover why he’s considered one of the most iconic voices in Arizona’s spoken word scene.

The Mesa Wind Blows Soft Colorado Pete poetry artwork AZpoetry.com

The Mesa Wind Blows Soft by Colorado Pete

“The Mesa Wind Blows Soft” by Colorado Pete

The Mesa wind blows soft tonight,
The western stars bend low,
Self-shadowed in the firelight
Old dreams, old visions go.

The mesa wind’s a soft caress,
Cool fingers in my hair;
Soft whispers out of lonliness
That breath a lonely prayer…

O mesa wind go far to her
With kisses carried high,
And tell her mountain grasses stir
And ‘wait her passing by;

Go tell her that the mesa trail
Lies yellow in the sun,
And clouds, like dreams, ride white and frail—
Lost longings, one by one.

Summary and Analysis of “The Mesa Wind Blows Soft” by Colorado Pete (1924)

Originally published in The Chicago Tribune in 1924, “The Mesa Wind Blows Soft” by Colorado Pete (the pen name of Arthur Owen Peterson) is a quietly haunting frontier poem rich with longing, landscape, and lyrical intimacy. Written during his years of treatment for tuberculosis in the Southwest, the poem evokes the stark beauty of Arizona’s mesas while exploring themes of solitude, memory, and unfulfilled love.

The poem opens with a soft, almost reverent tone:

The Mesa wind blows soft tonight, / The western stars bend low,
Here, the natural world sets a hushed and mystical backdrop. The “mesa wind” becomes both a gentle presence and a messenger, while the “western stars” bending low suggest an almost sacred stillness, as if nature itself is leaning in to listen to old dreams unravel in the flickering firelight.

In the second stanza, the wind becomes more personal—“cool fingers” and “soft whispers” suggest a human tenderness projected onto the desert wind, as the speaker’s loneliness shapes how he interacts with the world. The wind, like the speaker, “breathes a lonely prayer,” suggesting that the environment shares his sorrow and desire for connection.

The third stanza becomes more direct and emotional. The speaker sends the wind as a courier of love:

O mesa wind go far to her / With kisses carried high,
He asks the wind to tell a distant woman that nature itself—mountain grasses and desert trails—longs for her presence. This use of personification blurs the line between the inner landscape of the speaker and the outer landscape of Arizona. The environment becomes a vessel for emotion.

Finally, the closing stanza solidifies this fusion of love and place:

And clouds, like dreams, ride white and frail— / Lost longings, one by one.
Dreams and clouds drift across the vastness of the mesa, fragile and fleeting. Each cloud carries a lost hope, suggesting the passage of time, impermanence, and the pain of separation. Yet there is still beauty in the longing itself.

A Poem Rooted in Arizona’s Landscape and Spirit

“The Mesa Wind Blows Soft” is a quintessential example of Colorado Pete’s ability to blend personal emotion with the physical features of the American Southwest. Written during his time at the Veterans’ Hospital in Whipple, Arizona, where he was being treated for complications from tuberculosis, this poem reflects both the stillness and grandeur of the Arizona desert and the interior solitude of its speaker.

With its gentle rhythm, vivid imagery, and emotional subtlety, this poem is both a love letter to the land and a quiet elegy for connection lost or never fully realized. The mesa wind may be soft, but its message carries far.

➡️ Learn more about Colorado Pete and his poetry on his poet bio page.

Patrick Hare poet | AZpoetry.com

Patrick Hare

Patrick Hare: The Sardonic Voice of Phoenix’s Cubicle Realities

Patrick Hare is a dynamic performance poet whose sharp wit and unflinching observations have made him a staple of the Mesa Poetry Slam at Essenza Coffeehouse in Phoenix, Arizona. With over twenty years of experience on the spoken word stage, Hare’s poetry cuts through the everyday monotony of modern work life, transforming the struggles of the cubicle worker into a powerful, humorous commentary on contemporary society.

A Unique Perspective on Modern Life

In a city where call centers and digital marketing firms dominate the professional landscape, Patrick Hare has carved out a niche by exploring the untold stories of office life. His verses vividly capture the ironies, frustrations, and absurdities of the 9-to-5 grind. With a language that is both biting and relatable, Hare uses poetry as a weapon of humor—employing a sardonic scalpel to dissect the routines and rituals we often take for granted. His work invites listeners to laugh at the mundane and, in doing so, to recognize the hidden truths of their own lives.

A Veteran of the Mesa Poetry Scene

A fixture at the Mesa Poetry Slam, Hare has shared the stage with notable Arizona poets such as Bill Campana, Lauren Perry, and The Klute. His contributions to the local poetry community have helped define a uniquely Phoenix voice—a blend of humor, grit, and acute social observation. Whether performing at intimate open mics or competing at national events, Hare’s presence is always magnetic, drawing audiences in with his clever wordplay and raw honesty.

Over the course of his career, Hare has competed in several National Poetry Slams, earning accolades and respect for his fearless approach to performance. His ability to translate the trials and triumphs of everyday work life into compelling, laugh-out-loud poetry has set him apart as one of the region’s most engaging spoken word artists. His collection of poems “Corporate Boilerplate Vinegar” was made available by Brick Cave Media in 2019.

Crafting Humor from the Heart of the Cubicle

At the core of Patrick Hare’s work is a deep understanding of the modern workforce. His poems serve as a mirror to the daily grind, revealing the absurdity of corporate culture and the human cost of a life confined to cubicles and deadlines. With a style that is both incisive and playful, Hare dismantles the polished veneer of modern professionalism to expose the often unspoken realities beneath. His poetry is unapologetically raw, inviting audiences to confront their own discomforts and find humor in the shared experience of modern life.

Hare’s work is characterized by its ability to transform mundane observations into memorable, thought-provoking performances. Each line is crafted with precision, offering a mix of clever puns, cultural references, and biting social commentary that resonates with anyone who has ever sat through another endless meeting or navigated the labyrinth of corporate life.

A Lasting Influence on Arizona Poetry

Patrick Hare’s contributions to the Arizona poetry scene extend beyond his performances at local slams. By capturing the spirit of the modern workplace and infusing it with humor and honesty, he has influenced a new generation of poets who see everyday life as a rich source of inspiration. His work not only entertains but also challenges his audience to reflect on the societal structures that shape our lives, making him a critical voice in the dialogue on work, identity, and community.

Hare continues to be a powerful advocate for the transformative power of poetry. His commitment to illuminating the overlooked aspects of life and his dedication to the art of performance have left a lasting legacy on the Phoenix literary landscape.

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Hang On To Your Chairs (Ass Bomb) by Bill Campana
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Posted in Poets  • 
Bill Campana AZpoetry.com

Bill Campana

Bill Campana: The Unstoppable Force of Arizona Slam Poetry

Bill Campana is a poet who defies conventions and leaves audiences spellbound with his razor-sharp, entertaining verse. Rooted in the vibrant 1990s poetry slam movement, Campana has established himself as one of Arizona’s most versatile and influential voices. His performances and published works traverse a wide spectrum of styles and ideas, marking him as a fearless explorer of language and emotion.

Electrifying Live Performances

Bill Campana is renowned for his dynamic live performances that capture the raw energy of slam poetry. With a stage presence that can only be described as electrifying, Campana unleashes a relentless barrage of linguistic observations that hit you like a pocket pistol of poetic brilliance. His ability to transform each performance into an unforgettable experience has earned him a reputation as one of the loudest and most captivating voices in the poetry slam arena.

A key highlight of his career is his consistent representation of the Mesa National Poetry Slam Team. Bill has taken the stage on multiple occasions, demonstrating not only his technical prowess but also his deep passion for the art of spoken word. His performances have consistently moved audiences, leaving a lasting impression and inspiring both established poets and newcomers alike.

A Versatile Writer and Poet

Beyond his live performances, Bill Campana’s literary contributions further showcase his versatility as a writer. His extensive body of published work spans a diverse range of styles and genres. Campana has released collections on respected platforms such as Brick Cave Media and Hoot n Waddle Press, where he challenges readers with innovative ideas and masterful command of language.

Whether delving into personal introspection or exploring broader social themes, his poems invite audiences to experience a spectrum of emotions—from the deeply melancholic to the triumphantly humorous. Campana’s fearless exploration of unique ideas not only engages readers but also encourages them to see poetry as a powerful tool for both self-expression and social commentary.

Contributions to the Arizona Poetry Scene

Bill Campana’s impact on Arizona’s literary landscape is immeasurable. As a stalwart of the local poetry slam community, he has played a pivotal role in cultivating a vibrant and supportive environment for poets across the state. His participation in regional competitions and his memorable performances have helped to define Arizona’s distinctive poetic voice, inspiring countless emerging artists.

Campana’s work reflects the spirit of the Southwest—bold, unapologetic, and full of life. His commitment to the art of poetry has not only elevated his own career but has also helped to bring greater attention to Arizona poetry as a whole, positioning the state as a significant hub for creative expression and innovation in the realm of spoken word.

Legacy and Ongoing Influence

Bill Campana continues to leave an indelible mark on the world of poetry through his uncompromising dedication and innovative spirit. His contributions to both live performance and published poetry have set a high standard within the slam community, inspiring a new generation of poets to push boundaries and explore the depths of human experience.

Campana’s work serves as a reminder that poetry is not confined to traditional forms but can be a dynamic, living art that evolves with its creator. His ability to mix humor, sharp social commentary, and personal reflection has established him as a beacon of creative energy—one whose legacy is woven into the fabric of Arizona’s cultural history.

Listen to Bill Campana on Spotify

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Posted in Poets  • 
Love Bacall by Lauren Perry poetry | AZpoetry.com

“Love, Bacall” by Lauren Perry

Love Bacall by Lauren Perry

It had to be you that threw me the matches Bogie,

Each musky growl of my voice,
You couldn’t resist answering my question with a flick of your wrist and a smirk in your eye,
Confidence with a 5 o’clock shadow,
You were the smoke of my cigarette,
How we swirled around each other in celluloid films,
Bringing together big screen royalty Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart!
Our movies would go on to make our love famous long after we were bones in boxes or stars on a sidewalk,
They always called me the smart guy’s gal and I was the perfect exclamation point at the beginning of each of your sentences,
It didn’t matter that I was 19 and you were 45,
I liked your sense of experience and even though I would be your forth wife,
You always said I was the true love of your life, Bogie
Have we not talked lately because I feel like when I run my lines?
You’re pushing me to be better,
Don’t let the wrinkles fool myself because getting old is just another script we have to write ourselves into,
I’ve had to come so far without you by my side,
Two little children to raise and a chin up the Hollywood Mountain,
I could see it shinning from New York City where the theater curtain replaced the silver screen,
Our stay at the hotel Key Largo feels like ages ago,
The last time we’d read a script together and laugh at how seriously we both took our rolls,
Before cancer would take your voice and you had to breathe through tubes,
Your voice once the velvet purr of a bass string now rough coughs,
Defeater by cigarettes at two packs a day,
For 12 years you where my perfect leading man and I would always be your leading lady,
No one could ever replace you for long,
I’ve got the divorce papers to prove it,

Sometimes I sit down to watch un-edited scenes of our conversations together,
Didn’t matter if you were gunning down gangsters or I was steaming the screen up,
Pressed against you with all the force of camera reel clicking behind steel,
The silk of my blouse rising and falling in the tide of “lets never let this moment go”,
But I had to let you go Bogie,
You were dying on the inside!
Getting ready for The Big Sleep in a bigger way, baby
That was the close up that all the world was never ready for you name to headline,

Humphrey Bogart Dies at 57 January 14, 1957!

Did you predict that year on purpose?

Joking your teeth and hair would fall out before your contract with Warner Brothers expired,
Laughing at your immobility when your body weighed all of 80 pounds,
You died with movie stars by your side,
Taken from us far too soon and far too irreplaceable,
So reached in your pocket for the gold whistle you gave me all those years ago,

When we did our first movie together and fell in love, because
“If you want anything, just whistle.”

About the poet Lauren Perry

“Love Bacall” by Lauren Perry is a playful yet poignant exploration of love, aging, and the enduring allure of Hollywood icons. In the poem, Perry draws parallels between her own unconventional romance and the legendary on-screen chemistry of Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart. With vivid imagery and witty wordplay, she reflects on the bittersweet passage of time—acknowledging both the joy and melancholy that come with growing older and the inevitability of change. Her verse deftly blends humor with raw emotion, capturing a love that is as much about memory and identity as it is about passion and defiance.

Discover more about Lauren Perry’s journey as a poet, writer, and performer on her full bio page at AZpoetry.com.

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Alas Poor Yorick poem by The Klute featuring hyperrealistic jester at ren fair | AZpoetry.com

‘Alas, Poor Yorick’ by The Klute

Alas, Poor Yorick

I regard the sad little man
As I stand in line at Ye Olde Churro Hut
With equal measures of pity and hatred
He wears a tri-cornered, tri-colored hat that is by design
Three sizes too large for his head
Upon each corner rests a single bell that jingles
With each act of prehistoric vaudeville that he performs
Mistaking the expression on my face as an invitation
He’s coming my way
Little does he know, I hate jesters
I hate them with the white-hot intensity of an Inquisitor’s branding iron
Jesters provoke within me a desire to transcend the Renaissance
And go back to the Stone Age
Where it would be perfectly acceptable to take a large rock
And smash his proto-mime skull in
But this is the modern era
While I’m certain that no jury in America
Would convict me for killing a jester
I stay my hand
Because this is not his fault
He doesn’t want to be a jester
No one does.
No one wants to don a pair of tights,
Paint their faces in the tradition of Emmett Kelly
And prance about like a magnificent poof
If God had granted him the stature he would have chosen to be a knight
Or at least a page
Had he been born with rakish good looks and a way with the ladies,
He could have been a rogue
And if he had been in possession of musical talent
He could have been a minstrel
(although I hate minstrels too)
But his thin, short, and sexless reality
Has collided with the Dungeons and Dragons fantasies of his youth
And the result continues his happy ambling gait
Towards my place in line at Ye Olde Churro Hut
I desperately scan the crowd for a broadsword
To cleave this clown in twain
But finding none,
I steel myself for the upcoming barrage of stale quips, bad puns, and friendly jibes
“Prithee my lord, wouldst thou like to hear the tale of Punch and Judy?”
I grab him by his massive lapels and pull him to my face

No.
No I wouldn’t.

There’s a reason why Punch and Judy didn’t make it out of the Middle Ages alive.
People are fonder of the Black Death than they are of Punch and Judy.
Now I know this isn’t your fault.
All I want is some fried dough
And I’ll leave.

The awkward silence is broken by the shout of “Huzzah! Another twenty pounds for the King!”
I release him and he scurries off to the friendly couple from Sun City
That seem quite willing to put up with his capering.
I collect my Churro and sit under a shade tree
Of all the things arcane that this Renaissance Fair had to conjure up

Alas poor Yorick.
I knew him Horatio.

About the poet The Klute

Alas Poor Yorick was written by The Klute in 2002, originally intended for a chapbook entitled “Damn the Torpedoes”. The Klute was a popular Arizona slam poet for nearly 25 years, and this poem captures his satirical voice. Also known as Bernard Schober, The Klute often used humor to introduce new ideas into the Arizona culture. At the time, this poem was performed for mostly conservative audiences that dominated Arizona from the 1950s until the state began to flip politically in 2020. Tap here to learn more about The Klute on AZpoetry.com.

Hip Hop Republican by The Klute | AZpoetry.com

“Hip-Hop Republican” by The Klute

This poem was a spoken word poem, often performed in poetry slams locally, and nationally by The Klute, and various other members of the Arizona poetry community, sometimes with the audience clapping in beat, and other times with beatboxing poetry performers such as Aaron Hopkins-Johnson or Ed Mabrey. It was originally written in 2007, and some of the references were periodically updated from performance to performance. This version is from 2012, and has slight variations from the published versions found on The Klute’s audio recording version on “Reading the Obituaries Over My Dead Body” and Brick Cave Media‘s published “Hate You Can Trust“.

Republican National Committee chairman Michael Steele
says the the Grand Ol’ Party is in need of a “hip-hop makeover.” I got this.

Yo, I’m a Republican and I come from the street
fresh for twenty ten with an old skool beat
ya’ll used to love us,
but now, not so much
Keith Olbermann thinks the party’s out of touch.
so tonight on countdown, now it’s rhymes that we’re fixin
like the original gangsta, Richard Milhouse Nixon
now we’re making mix tapes
we’re not gonna burn ’em
Watergate taught us lessons
and you suckas gonna learn ’em
gonna pump up the jams, like we did in the 80s
but now we’re not just white, we got some blacks, some ladies
okay not a lot
but at least half a dozen
Alan Keyes, Larry Elder, Strom Thurmond’s lost cousin
straight out the cabin like Abraham Lincoln
but still in the closet in case the Tea Baggers got ya thinkin’
because we’re down with the dirty, but only if it’s straight
that’s why we dropped dimes on California’s prop eight
we’re the party of God
just like the Taliban
over Mullah Omar’s the Reverend Pat Roberson
we got the mormons, catholics, pentacostals too
our Israel support is outreach to the Jews
we support home schoolin’, intelligent design
because dinosaurs and man, were at the same time
we save stem cells, we stop some abortions,
we’re pimpin’ out Jesus in generous proportions
The TV’s turned to Fox News
Rush Limbaugh is pumpin’
check it out o’er here,
Ann Coulter is crumpin
My DJ Adam Smith
call him Ghosthand for short
from the lower middle class
he likes to extort
because it’s class warfare when Mr. Potter gets smoked
when the poor takes the hit,
the markets get stoked
it’s trickle down economics
can’t you understand
the fact that you’re unemployed
has totally been planned.
Wit’ invisible hands,
MC Adam’s laying down the tracks
he’s gonna spin yall out
a motherfuggin flat tax
fifteen percent, fifteen percent, fifteen percent
that’s all you gotta pay
so step off tax man with your 1040A
i got a right to bare arms
and I know how to use it
posse of lobbyists so Im not gonna lose it
I roll with Dick Cheney
so you know Im a killah
cappin old geezers
makin grave land filler
Got glocks, uzis, machine guns too
permit from Sarah Palin to hunt moose at the zoo
like Jennifer Grey in Red Dawn lands,
you’ll only get my gun from my cold dead hands

all the wolverines here say HO
all the wolverines here say HO

Yeah
God, guns and money
you know that they’re with us
so like it says on the coin
who you gonna trust
forget about bush
cuz Reagan is out game
unlike the Gipper
you won’t forget our name

The preceding message was paid for by the Republican Party and is responsible for its content.

and I approve that message because the GOP is hype.
so peace out ya’ll
and to ya’ll a good a’ight!

Did I say peace? I meant WAR.

About the poet The Klute

You can listen to more audio recordings from The Klute from the album “Reading The Obituaries Over My Dead Body“, or read the poem in text form in a collection of poetry called “Hate You Can Trust“. Learn more about The Klute HERE.