(Revised American National Anthem,
Written during 1991 Gulf War
"victory" celebrations)

Oh say can you see
By our victory's delight
How proudly we failed
At peace and goodwilling?

Our bright kids and smart bombs
Through the fairytale fight
O'er the TVs we watched
Were so gallantly killing.

And the rockets red glare,
Children bursting in air,
Guaranteed that the price
Of our oil will be fair.

Oh say does that blood-spattered
Banner yet wave
O'er the land of the fool
And the home of the knave?

MISBEHAVIOR

A boy in a foxhole,
Like a cat in a laundry basket,
Knows he’s not
Where he belongs.

An artillery shell,
Like a mother’s hands
Lifting kitty from the linens,
Will put him outdoors.

CORPORAL PUNISHMENT

We are all on the train to
Auschwitz,
Because we all are Jews,
Or something like Jews,
Humans.

Our deaths are certain,
Putrid, and inane,
The whim of some mad corporal
Gassed in the trenches
Of a war in Europe,
Or somewhere,
Maybe Heaven.

Give us our daily
Soup and bread
And lead us not
Into thy ovens
Until tomorrow,
Or, better, Wednesday.

We'll promise to behave
If, great soldier
Of some master race
Or supernatural species,
You'll beat us less
Before you smudge the sky
With the greasy smoke
Of our feeble, yes,
But familiar, flesh.

God, Hitler, whoever you are,
Forgive us.
We know not what we've done,
But, surely, somehow we have sinned.

AFTERTASTE

When all stars disappear
Like snowflakes in the sea,
The salt of an old maid’s tear
Will flavor, still, her tea.

We watched today a caterpillar weave
Himself from sight, and I explained his plan.
And now your eyelids close,
And soon you'll be a man.

Then you'll watch your own child weaving dreams
And understand your father's restless night.
You'll know his paper wings.
You'll know his candle light.

GLORIA!

In a filthy barn, in a flimsy crèche,
An infant whimpers from diaper rash.
His shivering mother wipes his ass,
The Almighty swaddled in human flesh.

At the carwash at Ninety-ninth and First
A junkie helps a whore give birth.
Another Jesus arrives on Earth.
Why don't angels sing his worth?

SNEERVANA

As a wave is a piece of the ocean,
Each soul is a piece of God.
That thought is a fishy commotion
Of minnows in schools of cod.

My soul is a soaring falcon
That knows the waves and the sea,
And though I shall drop in the ocean,
The ocean will never know me.

THE GARDENER

Because we dared
When we were small,
To prove He cared
He cursed us all.

So we, His children,
Driven wild,
Tried to kill
His only child.

Though we nailed
Him to a tree,
Father failed,
Still, to see.

Still He tells us
To obey.
He compels us,
Thus, to pray:

Faithful Serpent,
Come again,
Free your Servant
From His sin,

Forgive our Father,
He knows not
What He wrought, or
What we got,

Where He goes,
Or whence He came.
Until He knows,
He's not to blame,

But make Him eat
Of His own fruit,
The bitter, sweet,
Forbidden truth.