COVERT POETICS JOURNAL AND PRESS, MIKE GROVER'S
Calling You Out
My country hates the poor,
The homeless.
Blames them for living
Out in the open.
Haves take more,
More government relief.
Poor not a pot to piss in,
No relief or jobs in sight.
I saw your hand print america
Across the face of a battered child in the street.
I'm calling you out.
You tried to hide
In the TV,
Behind the troops,
Behind the flag,
The statue of liberty,
Some fucked up cracked bell.
I'm calling you out.
It was you that put crack on the streets.
To kill the poor quicker.
You hate the poor.
You engineered the AIDS virus.
Now I'm speaking in conspiracies.
Like dreams come true,
Deferred away,
away.
I'm calling you out.
You fearmonger.
Feeding on the fear
Of your weakest.
Sending fear through mass media,
Sittin' there feedin' on it.
Getting fat off it.
You are the fattest of the cats.
I'm calling you out.
I don't stand for the national anthem.
I laugh right in your face.
The last time I heard it
Someone tried to make me take my hat off.
I said "Who are you the police?"
Won't love it or leave it.
I'm calling you out.
Won't listen to some chump
With a three piece suit and tie mind,
Tell me a vote for him
Will make my life better.
I know I'm gonna wake up
And it's all gonna be the same anyway.
Change is gonna be
What's left in my pocket.
I'm calling you out.
This is an abusive relationship.
But I'll stick around just to fuck with you.
Have you noticed I'm moving
Closer to the border.
I'll sit here on the edge
Watch whatever Armageddon you're playing out.
I have no fear left to feed you.
I'm calling you out.
I'm unlearning what I've learned
Because wisdom and peace
Are not a cluttered head.
I study the bloodline
Of the Poet.
I know what you've done.
I am living and dying simultaneously.
We all are.
I'm calling you out.
You're just an image marketed.
You are the biggest illusion.
I've followed your roads
From coast to coast.
From south to north.
I have seen you.
I know just how beautiful you are.
I have seen the injustice.
I know just how ugly you are.
I have felt the freedom
Of an open road,
Nothing in my way.
How do we live up to that?
How does the feeling last?
My country hates the poor,
The homeless.
Blames them for living
Out in the open.
Haves take more,
More government relief.
Poor not a pot to piss in,
No relief or jobs in sight.
I saw your hand print america
Across the face of a battered child in the street.
I'm calling you out.
You tried to hide
In the TV,
Behind the troops,
Behind the flag,
The statue of liberty,
Some fucked up cracked bell.
I'm calling you out.
It was you that put crack on the streets.
To kill the poor quicker.
You hate the poor.
You engineered the AIDS virus.
Now I'm speaking in conspiracies.
Like dreams come true,
Deferred away,
away.
I'm calling you out.
You fearmonger.
Feeding on the fear
Of your weakest.
Sending fear through mass media,
Sittin' there feedin' on it.
Getting fat off it.
You are the fattest of the cats.
I'm calling you out.
I don't stand for the national anthem.
I laugh right in your face.
The last time I heard it
Someone tried to make me take my hat off.
I said "Who are you the police?"
Won't love it or leave it.
I'm calling you out.
Won't listen to some chump
With a three piece suit and tie mind,
Tell me a vote for him
Will make my life better.
I know I'm gonna wake up
And it's all gonna be the same anyway.
Change is gonna be
What's left in my pocket.
I'm calling you out.
This is an abusive relationship.
But I'll stick around just to fuck with you.
Have you noticed I'm moving
Closer to the border.
I'll sit here on the edge
Watch whatever Armageddon you're playing out.
I have no fear left to feed you.
I'm calling you out.
I'm unlearning what I've learned
Because wisdom and peace
Are not a cluttered head.
I study the bloodline
Of the Poet.
I know what you've done.
I am living and dying simultaneously.
We all are.
I'm calling you out.
You're just an image marketed.
You are the biggest illusion.
I've followed your roads
From coast to coast.
From south to north.
I have seen you.
I know just how beautiful you are.
I have seen the injustice.
I know just how ugly you are.
I have felt the freedom
Of an open road,
Nothing in my way.
How do we live up to that?
How does the feeling last?
&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&& &
ANDREW LOVATT
CONFESSIO 1
REMIX
READ WRIT PLAYED AND COMPOSED BY THE
" IRISH DIVINER" H'SELF !
the title dead drunk dublin sprang from a collection of poems of the same name which i started writing in 2002 while walking the streets of dublin, a city i have known off & on for over 30 years. the book is still in the writing. -- andrew lovatt, editor
http://deaddrunkdublin.com/index.html
LOVATT WAS EX- BEATLE, JOHN LENNON'S "MAIN MAN" HEADING UP THE WALRUS' EARLY VIDEO A/V FORAYS THAT WERE CENTERED IN DUBLIN IN THE EARLY 1970'S.
all pictures in this post credit FDW Ireland 2004 & Ponte Vedra Beach, FL. 2006
