"This is not a book to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force." - Dorothy Parker

Rant of the Cynic

Fragmented, soulless with crayola skies,
Bullied by Bloods and Crips, overrun by squalid sties,
Blood-soaked, freeway-choked and coco-buttered bitches,
Cybersex, silicone pecs and film star riches,
L.A.-Dante’s Inferno, hell’s gated pinnacle,
It’s no wonder I’m so damn cynical.
Hey, where are you God, can’t you see?
How’bout a bit’o grace bestowed on me?

So you’re an immigrant, big deal, want to fight?
I descend from Peregrine White.
He’s a baby who had the power,
The first one born on the Mayflower,
You know, pilgrims, haven’t you heard?
In America, English is the spoken word.
Hey, Allen Ginsberg, you were right,
Howling poetry with all your might.

Gay or straight? Who gives a shit?
You’re still a flaming hypocrite,
Cause marriage is for benefits,
Like medical or the membership,
Marriage ain’t about the love,
Butterflies or the lord above.
Hey, Mr. Pope-man, with your fancy hats,
Condemn thy priests’ pedophile acts.

The abortion issue should be dead,
With so many options in the bed,
Abortion hurts so use some sense,
Pill or patch or abstinence,
No sweat, no life- only cells, they say,
Bloody cells that’ll haunt all the rest of your days.
Hey, Jesus, when are you coming back?
Hurry! Satan’s launched a full attack.

Get away, you Greenpeace guys,
All over me like hungry flies,
Bleeding hearts, how’d you arrive?
Is that your diesel with 4-wheel drive?
Save Alaska! Protect the North Slope!
But have you been there? I thought not, nope.
Hey, Mother Mary, hear me pray,
Forgive cruelties and sins that I commit each day

The North Slope tundra is dried-up ice,
Dark and frigid and not so nice,
Fur seals like to frolic and feed,
Warm oil platforms are what they need,
So fill up your tank, don’t have a fit,
Go see for yourself, you idiot.
Hey, Father in Heaven, you asleep in your grave?
Why won’t your children just behave?

Youth these days, have an interesting fate,
Daddy pays the bills till they’re twenty-eight,
Lazy, spoiled, techno-ravers, pay your own rent,
Cause you ain’t entitled to my retirement!
Why stand thee here idle complaining “life sucks”,
You’ll only wind up poor or working at Starbucks.
Hey, Muhammad, what the hell,
Where’s that peaceful Sufism that you sell?

Osama bin Laden, what a fake,
Rich boy, whiner on the make,
Muslim-terrorist lives in a bell jar,
You’re no Muhammad, you video star,
Mr.‘principal before person’, you’re in poor health,
Koran manipulator, I’ll shoot you myself.
Hey, Martin Luther, the races are at it again,
Your righteous lessons are wearing thin.

Tattoed banger, drop your gun,
Omarion, 50cent, isn’t rap fun?
Doping and drive-bys take such skill,
Thanks to Tookie, you love to kill!
Go ahead-waste your life and did I mention?
I’ll not visit you at San Quentin.
Hey, President Bush, that a tear in your eye?
“Ya’ll don’t like me, and I don’t know why!”

The city of angels needs the heavenly host,
Her naked-homeless-multi-ethnic-holy ghosts;
Suicide-genocide-feed the poor-pay the whore-Schwarzenegger-terminator,
Partyin’-Walmartian-clean the air-nothing’s fair-take a pill-
I have a list who to kill,
Hey that’s all-wake-up call-read the poems on the wall,
Peace-out and how ‘bout-a glass of Kali-for-n-i-a* wine?


Bonnie Bolling