drat fink

olive drab

sorry for the histronic
hysterical phonics

its a simplistic heuristic
without a splash of tonic

and contrition towards inhibition
is nothing short of chronic

as the target slips within range
the sensory blips become demonic

while the radar waves are spinning
the bombadier on his plans he just sits

in the hangar in the cockpit
he measures out his splits

but the colonels and the generals
are giving each other fits

cant decide if its time for world war 3
or a case of mixolplix

dont you flyboy
way up high
in your shiny new machine

whats the use
of all that training
waiting for lights to turn from red to green

then the call came
but you complain
that you havent got the nerve

pull the choke chain
throttle back
instead of liftoff
shake and swerve

down the runway
constructing models
that have never been and never will be built

aborted mission
no transmission
you cant whirl
if you wont even tilt

hazmatch

"At a time when the Bush administration is beefing up America’s Homeland Security defences any indication of progress by the FBI should be good news, but one prominent and well-respected biowarfare expert believes the FBI has not only known the identity of the terrorist for months but has conspired with other branches of the US government to keep it secret."

signal intelligence

a breakdown in security
breaking out the boil-ease
noones paying royalties
to shoot me out of sequence

the frequency of reality
the futility of fealty
the utility of banality
is boring me to depths

the icy-hot brigade
the minted lemonade
the heart that trumps the spade
who dealt this anyway

the bunker busting bombs
armed with incendiary alms
they stormed with worlds of calm
yet the wounds would surely linger

the cipher wouldnt suffer
no need for zones to buffer
the message is quite clear
relax your guardamnation and penetrate your fear

now thats hardly a wringing endorsement

what an enlightening display
of frightening dismay

the road unraveled
more travailed than traveled

voices stinging
choices flinging

greets that do not mete

out expectations
in digestible expectorations

spit please
then rinse

rope burnout (wick wick whacked)

its a simple line
and yet im queasy
marked time with rhyme
i wish it was that easy

made my wayback down
while the sampler assailed
am i just so blind
cant even read your braille

did i not say it wrong
does it meander too much
if i skipped the trope
would you double dutch?

ok ok ok ok

the fabric of our lies
all swatches and patched together
had i known all along
would that make me feel much better

its those darn kids
and their mysterious machinations
asleep at the wheel
that is permanently vacated

put your stenciled life down
youre so cut and so pasted
and dont ever forget
that youre twice as evasive

speech impediment

the concession speech
ill make my remarks brief

i never understood
and i never will

in the money

relationship between the bush family fortunes and the financing of hitlers war machine

keepsake

still earning
piled in a worthless heap

still churning
exploring mysteries off the deep

still turning
as i feel the ours creep

still learning
that im so ing what i reap

still yearning
flailing when i should have leaped

still burning
as i lay me down to sleep

word to your mithra

a domesticated animus
a robust distrust of bluster

a social blighted plight
a jagged jettys spiral duster

a deadened eye dickered
over a matriliminal custer

with time to make a fuss
spews out the fiercest fluster

you havent got a clue
if you cant detect the lustre

luke warm
be warned

this is your final rapprochement
theyre weaving you in