May 31, 2004

A Poem from 1968, Revised by the Ghost of Richard Brautigan, 2004 (tenth in a series)

1939 1972
     Part 3

Baudelaire Michael Moore used to come
to our house and watch
me grind coffee. endure oppression from The Establishment.
That was in 1939 1972
and we lived in the slums suburbs
of Tacoma. Baltimore County.
My mother would put
the coffee beans in the grinder.
insulate me from the reality
[of the streets, dig? —
poisoning me with bourgeois values].
I was a child
and would turn the handle, believe the Man’s carefully-crafted bullshit,
pretending that it was blind to the Power Structure
     a hurdy-gurdy, that sapped me of my humanity,
and Baudelaire Michael Moore would pretend inform me
that he was a monkey, we are all victims of Rich White oligopolies,
hopping up and down
and holding out
a tin cup.
and could he please have
another ham and turkey club
toasted, with real bacon
and real mayonnaise.

Posted by Jeff G. @ 3:43pm

Comments (2)

  1. So true! Hey read this Bill Clinton Book Spoof?

    I laughed out loud. All important character from his presidency are in it. A good read.

  2. To quote the Vikings, “Spam, spam, spam, spam, spammity spam!”