Once in a lifetime we are called to rise from the ashes
And act from a core of love and compassion
To rise above each mode of every way
In which it was once comfortable to act.
Once in a lifetime we are asked
To operate in a new sphere,
Unknown to the smallness, to the pettiness
We had known and quarreled with before.
The only problem in arguing with the tar baby
Is that you become covered in tar . . .
And as Buddha said, "The subject is the subject."
Hardy tar - tar.
When we are asked
Once in a lifetime
To change a pattern of being
That we had fought so hard to keep,
It's best to move stealthily.
Here is the secret of enlightenment from Buddha
During that first major election after the Stolen Florida Midget became President.
Make no announcements.
Send out no RSVP's
For cocktails at 5:00, for dancing at 11:00
For streamers and confetti as the great ball of awakening
Descends into some headless torso of understanding.
Only fools announce their moves
Their diets, their plans to fight the enemy
And protect us from the terrorism of mind-phucks.
Buddha remembers that the very nature
Of an announcement
Is to proclaim what is naught . . .
Remember this, as the enormous shrub leader
Tells us we are being protected from the ugly meanie-weenies
Who will strike at our towers at any moment! We must reelect
Mr. Kick Arse Cowboy Boots, because only He
Has Gunpowder Tea with Jesus.
Thankfully, most of sacred Western civilization
Is protected by this inflamed midget of a shriveled weenie,
Flying his uncut, far-flung sparkling banner with slam-bam patriotism
Directly into God-fearing puckering faces of the Holy Thumper Righteous.
What a deal! Protector of the free world,
Guardian of the abuse of stem cells, heroic leader
Of the pig-wonton greed of stomachless Halliburton.
Kiss this man. He is the essence of purity,
The boiled-down elixir of what it means to be righteous.
Kiss him now, protector of the Free. Just a little kiss, by George.
Buddha would tell us,
Do not be upset. It is only a midget cowboy pretending to play God.
I rock -
You rock -
We all rock
For that endless Hellish chute-hole
Of waste and torture in the name of headless liberty.
Pucker up! Black hole of casual throw-away, dollar-ish waste.
In the name of Liberty, no excess is unjustifiable.
None.
N O N E.
Buddha says, "Why are you so upset? We have no Texans in Heaven.
Not one."
Not one.
Not one.
We have not won at all.
. . .
What a relief! I need only deal with idiots at the local level.
Thank you Lord George. Bless your tiny little ferocious members
of your family and advisors. Bless them all, shower them with Holy Fire.
We kiss your alpha male boots as you destroy
The last semblance of sanity in the name of Jesus Patriotism.
Oh let us kiss you, kiss you, kiss you all over
As you lead us into the very bowels of Hell
In the name of Jesus.