The Ten Year Sleep: Poetry

I think I first nodded off
at midnight when Fox swore in a
President who's limo would
get egged on his Inauguration Day

Because when I surfaced briefly
the Vacation President was
blaring about the terrorists
that blew up my job

If I was angry about
the noise at 1am,
it got lost in the smothering
chorus to shut the fuck up
or head for the border,
so you could be shot
by Cowboy militias
brandishing guns

So I went back to slumber
a little past 2,
thinking myself immune
from the fallout of world
opinion that our public
was smoking political crack

The foreign press kept
tapping me on my shoulders
to remind me about old ladies
arrested under the Patriot Act
but my eyelids kept
on drooping and the
television remained a blur
Irritated, I told them,
"Fucking Mission Accomplished! Now
let me get some ZZZ's!"

So I vaguely registered
the white noise between
4 and 5,
something about some torture
shit all carried out by this
chick named Lynddie England
and a loony dictator
bringing back the Wild West
in Guantanamo Bay

But Barbara put me at ease
by saying all news was 90%
supposition and our
beautiful minds shouldn't
dwell on body bags
when there are Chocolate
Cites where things
work out for people
quite well

So I went back to sleep,
giving The BBC the finger
'cause they kept on nattering
about some old guy that
took some buckshot in the face,
They yelled back at 6am
that El Diablo had arrived
the United Nations
and I was profoundly baffled
as The Devil usually
prefers Bohemian

Then all at once,
the televisions kept
proclaiming the word
"Change" at 7am
But I couldn't hear
over my neighbors
They kept fighting
over loose change
and the precise method
it had fallen to
the floor

And suddenly there was so
much noise, I figured
sleep was out of the question
So I went to Starbucks for a
Redeye so I could catch
find out what was what

After ten minutes,
I admit I was despondent
to hear the recent dire happenings
The Devil had filed for
bankruptcy in 2007
and was now shooting up smack
on the streets of the Financial
District beside
industry execs just
out of detox;
Yes, the world had gone
to shit when even
Satan can't even get a Chapter 7
but was stuck with that
damn Chapter 13 instead

So I walked into the booth
at 8,
rubbed my bleary eyes
and made a circle around
a name they said
was "Change."
I didn't even know who
the man was,
but if Xenu had uttered "Change"
at the moment,
damn if I wouldn't have been
galatically baptized
by choice

Brother, it's now
10am and
I'll tell you
it's a miracle
because I've never seen
a utopia like this
And it's a brilliant
fucking sight:

In one hour,
We were all reconciled
without employment,
equalized at last,
with sub-par health care
for everyone
even Tiny Tim

We stood in solemn
observance at the burial,
united beside the
sacred pillars of debt
and uttering the same fervent
prayers to Technology to aid
us in our time of need

The urn waited quietly
as we all sang aloud the hymn
of "America the Beautiful"
and gathered the ashes
of dreams cremated
over the decade of years
while we'd slept

Now that song is finished,
the last rites given,
and we're taking stock
of our world
Truly seeing each other
for the first time,
awake and aware this morning,
we lift our heads in unison
to scream out
"What the fuck?!"

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