Poems By Andyman

An Open Letter to Wm. Gates, 6/8/2000

Hang on, Bill,

And hold on, too,

For all of US, out here

For Joseph P. Everyman

In the ERA of Strife

Because Believe it, Bill

You’re fighting for Everyman’s life,

Hang on, and hold on,

Too,

They’ll burn the

Rest of the

Constitution after they

Crucify you.

Hang on, Bill, you

Know What Is True

Stick to your Vision

‘Cause that’s what you

do.

You helped build a

New world, you did

It with Math, so now

You’re tied to the Stake

For one Golden Browser

Path.

Shall I give up Rhyme

Because they’ve abandoned

all reason - ?

New Age Patriots like

Bill one always

in season.

Please, Hang in there

Bill, but don’t turn the

other cheek, because

in my view

they will slaughter

the Meek, (again)

Hang on, Bill, and

Hold on, too, my

Prayers are with

you, whatever you

do.

We share the

same chains,

we suffer the

same pains,

the agony of

what could have been

if, for once they

might let intelligence

win.

Hang in there, Bill,

hold on, too

I, too, am as poor as

You.

We count wealth

In a different

Way, because we’re

All worse off if

Tomorrow is less

Than today.

Hang on to your vision and

Never let it go, because

You’ll be a real-life

Hero on the History Show.

Hang in there, Bill,

Don’t give up the

Ship -

Don’t let these

Fascists end

The Great

American Trip.

the Sewage of Miami

You have no rights

In this sewer

Of a city called

Miami – there is

No hope in this

Hell they call

Paradise – hot,

steamy, fetid,

stale, confused,

uneducated, arrogant

dangerous fools –

cops who couldn’t

win $200 on Jeopardy!

if their vacant-hollow

lives depended on

it. We’ve turned

over our Constitution

to men with no self-

esteem – no self-respect –

no common sense – no

education – no quality

of character – no poise –

just sick little boys

with guns, guns, guns,

guns, guns, too many

guns, guns, guns, at

their dim-witted

disposal – dummy-bullet

dummies, maybe a rummy

or two mixed in for

good measure – the

guy in high school

who couldn’t get laid,

who couldn’t make the

team –

who always got in

trouble

left out of the

scene –

He’s got a gun to

Your head and

A badge on

His tit and

He’s gonna beat

You down until

Your blood

Is your spit –

They ain’t gonna

Quit until

Your momma begs –

And that ain’t

Enough – not unless

Your momma

Swallows their tiny

Sperm w/badges

On – how long will

The Death of

Democracy go on? –

You have no rights

In this sewer of

A city called

Miami –

Where media

Relish their

Reputation of “If it

Bleeds it leads” –

A media that

Somehow thinks

That O.J. Simpson

Is news – somehow

Missing the fact

That their National

Brethren have

Laughed that stupid

Story away long ago.

But petty and

Putrid is perfect

Here where the

Police brag

About their trips

On Ecstasy and

Chuckle about all

The stuff they’ve

Kept for themselves

After all those

Lucrative raids

They’ve staged for

Their friends, the

Garish “Whore-Look-

Alikes” in the low

Local media.

How expedient

Here to ignore

The Truth.

You get your choice

Between the thug –

Or the thug on drugs

With a shiny badge on.

_______________

Cops murder

Innocents they

Never see, as

Caretakers and

Nurses are dragged

Off and chained

To walls of Police vans

For hours while

Police brag how

Much higher they get

Than you do. Cops

Don’t take piss tests.

Cops can be drunk

Junkies w/AIDS

And VD and be

Stoned all the

Time on three

Kinds of speed,

Because nobody

Tests, nobody checks,

No checks or balances

In place. Yes, it’s

True and an absolute

Disgrace, because

Nobody checks them

Nobody likes them

Or trusts them

Or tolerates them

As friends –

Because in reality

We all agree that

Cops are the

Bottom of the

Barrel of society

But they have the

Barrel of a gun

Strapped to their

Side – a required

Decoration to

The Caligula

Costume they parade

Around in the most

Tacky cars on the

Street, Christmas Trees?

Oh, please! When

Shall Society spare

Itself from these

Sick monsters –

And trust one

Each the other –

One loving his

Brother – not

Hurting one

Another

Anymore

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