Y’all, We Have Soccer Moms Trying To Ban Books

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Y’all, we have soccer moms trying to ban books
Wishing to shield things they don’t want you to know
But revolutions & thoughts just won’t burn
Intellect cannot be stopped, you merely make them slow

These fundamentalists get hot under the collar
When they see repression, they begrudgingly swoon
A weird fetish to extinguish ideas & desire
Appalled by anyone thinking of Love before noon

The censorious are coming for your hearts & minds
Seething with hate for anything silently inappropriate
Your Book declares thou with sin cannot cast thy stone
Minor scandals not so obscure when karma retaliates

Being fallacious isn’t as grand as it sounds
Yet, ya’ll out here in the streets committing slander
I refuse to pander to your anger & delusions
You’re just waiting to be shut in, unloved; smelling of dander

Do you ever find yourself lost within your misguided intent
I realize you’re genuinely hoping to shield the youth
But they don’t need your unfounded reservations
Nor do they respect your faulty judgement in hiding the truth

Please, cease & desist with your moral hubris
You’re foolish, stop before you fulfill the prophesies of 1984
You’re Orwellian without the perfect irony
But, you’re not ready to deal with the weight of evermore

Bradbury warned us about erroneous application of law
I can see we won’t keep our rights without a fight
Justice leading us into a deprivation of choice
You need to remember Jesus hung with ladies of the night

Within your imprudent latching, you’ve been misled
Matters not if you have delicate sensibilities, the Piper will get paid
I believe you to be rash, but I’m no one of any consequence
I may be deluded, but I believe you gotta get properly laid

Events Like Watergate Come & Go

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Events like Watergate come & go
Revealing to the public our national shame
We no longer trust the government
Any effort to deceive us is just plain lame

Our capitalistic masters heading for disaster
These pathetically absurd
Creating content for the algorithm
But they don’t care about our words

Dr. Strangeglove is plotting
The folly of the Pentagon staff
Making old ladies weep
When only evil men can still laugh

Time keeps ticking, even when we hurt
Old white men will begin to campaign
Dropping promises like forgotten love notes
The people cast aside once they pop champagne

You ask me frivolous questions
Who shall I vote for
I don’t know who cares
But, I’m rooting for no one in 2024

Walking Down The Street On All Saints’ Day

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Walking down the street on All Saints’ Day
Victrolas on display at the corner store
A flirtatious greeting with the local beauty
She always smiles, but never asks for more

You’ve created another aura within her
Casting her as red-blooded in your pulp fantasy
A polite lady with those vicious high heels
Mental interludes without consent, it seems to me

Take your dreams & exit stage left
You tried to court & failed, life’s not fair
Let a true gentleman whisper elegant words
She’ll open up her passion, exposing her silky pair

I Search For Hope In The Early Morning

I search for hope in the early morning
Trying to find truth before first light
Without the influence of assholes
Perpetually kept themselves in the right

This absurdity of life
Fallen into realms beyond our thought
But still we shine on for the future
This isn’t who we are; let us believe not

We can change the status of time
& act not out of debilitating fear
That we might find a way to be better
Cast out hate & return to being sincere

The Freedom To Move Is Vastly Underrated

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The freedom to move is vastly underrated
The need to take refuge in the open air
Release yourself from these modern bonds
Get back out there if you still care

I reject their basic version of normalcy
Those rules don’t apply as formulated
Reality was never calibrated for us
Mere common folk to be granulated

Refusing to remain quiet is necessary
Return to nature – turn off that broadcast
Be elusive, for they’re coming for you
You’re necessary as long as you have a vote to cast

Listening To Wollstonecraft On The Radio

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Listening to Wollstonecraft on the radio
“Don’t turn that dial!”, that’s what the DJ said
Not tied to any system; I’m still analog
I’m dangerous; so the advertisers pled

Hereditary responsibility to the common good
Therefore I don’t believe what I’ve been taught
I see y’all got opinions, from your suburban thrones
& these school systems regurgitating corporate rot

Criminal malpractice leaves us with poor examples
But we’ve seen far worse on both sides of the aisle
Bribing the lowest common denominator for votes
Rewrite history, but perhaps that’s not in your files

I’ve been cast off, labeled a subversive heretic
But I’m easy – so I’m doing my best to unlearn
To unwind these falsehoods they tried to entrench
The slow burn; time to take candor for a turn

Rash choices based upon juvenile aesthetics
The understanding that we all might partake
Though one must know speaking the truth too loud
Turns into testimony & they might burn us all at the stake

Your Idols Weren’t Half The Men

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Your idols weren’t half the men
They thought they were half a bottle in
Cowardly hiding behind unjust traditions
Sinning while gulping juniper medicinal gin

Their women languishing in the shadows
Cast off from any chance to reach the light
Yet those damsels can see through the dark
The perfect heroine to save an errant knight

Misconstrued notions of dynamic parity
Swabbing the deck with your fallen idol
Ink smudges & literary drudges
Methinks – their mothers should’ve used spermicidal

Casting Aspersions In The Salon

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Casting aspersions in the salon
It was art deco motif & decor
She encouraged my company
But I knew she’d eventually want more

So I raise my glass for the glory of this night
I cannot be what I am not right here
Let us nurture & love the best we know
For none can predict if the coast stays clear

Girls With Their Knee-Highs

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Girls with their knee-highs
Haute Couture, exposed at the side
But don’t believe everything you see
Smashed & forgotten; a murdered bride
Money left on the nightstand
A life shouldn’t be thrown away for such
Summer comes to erase memories
But down here, it doesn’t take much
She was already cast out, with her upturned jugs
A novelty for these professional suited men
They’ve wiped away (ass-print) the glass
Like she never happened, what will you do then?