It's an ugly world. I'm sad to see all
those flag-waving, patriotic, Bud-
drinking morons rooting for their
favorite football team to kick some
ass and go to the Super Bowl,
while their buddies are bombing
Baghdad to free humanity from
yet another Third World menace...
"Go boys! Go! Kick some Iraqi
ass!" the fans shout in some
idiotic frenzy, "Make it a clean
sweep for your country and
for your president!" they yell,
while opening a can of beer
and masturbating to a poster
of a big-chested whore, ready to
give a piece of the American pie
to whoever can still afford it...
I'm not in my right mind and
I cannot write poetry amidst it all--
as if something inside me has been
cut--this war has created so much
hatred and divisiveness that I
often wish to get loaded so that
I too can be just as stupid and
"Yeah, yeah, carpet bomb the
motherfuckers! Use your B-52's,
your F-15's, your F-16's, your
ballistic missiles, your guided
missiles, your Patriot missiles,
your Tomahawk cruise missiles
and shoot your load into Baghdad!
Ooh, ooh, that feels awesome!!!"
And as I get a hard-on thinking
about the war, I can feel poetry
coming out of me in generous showers
of good ol' American hate and
"The fuckers deserve it anyway.
They've been dropping their Scuds
on Israel and violating the
Geneva convention!"...
Oh how wonderful it is to
let your aggressions out in
the battlefield instead of raping
some stuck-up bitch who won't
put out on a first date.

                                        January 23, 1991
                                   --Alexander Shaumyan