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I could have entitled the poem
Fuck Shit Pussy, and much of what
I wanted to say would have been said.

Emotions hover around visions of
John Adams and Jefferson, accepting
their nominations with humility
and honor, doing their best.

How much did John Adams spend
en route to victory in 1796? How much
money in political contributions did
he make?

A central bank, Hamilton’s Treasury
Department, an army in peacetime
chompin’ at the bit to fight (or else why
train?), good and evil elements spitting
through the cracks in Government…

Ah!! If only the world and life itself
could be controlled by voting.

Politics an okay pursuit, for why not
attempt to order chaos around,
it’s fun—what Da Vinci did with
some colors and a canvas, smile!

The Mona Lisa is divine…

So could our lives be; check in,
check ourselves—Change, revolve
and so let’s go back to a new
beginning. Earn our fireworks
on July 4th, aim with me a poetic
hopeful atom bomb at:


Blow it up. Kill it all, turn our
will and political lives back to
effort, truth and humble acceptance
of nominations bestowed on the

Ideas and effort, not soliciting and money—

Could you imagine like me, the beauty
in that City Hall or Capital party, the
day we turn it all over to the people,
to a better process.

Ideas having priority, age would cease to
matter, we could raise up a fifteen
year old to lead, if they had the ideas
and drive—why not?

We claim they’re the future… I give my
power away today. Past 35, we’re all in
descent, let’s get honest as our private
parts drop, encourage kids to rise up—
Let’s GO!!

You know, this could be great—we weed
out the weeds. But then there’s salary—even
Adams made a big one for public service
in politics.

The root of all evil? When pursued, yes.
When accepted as a thing among 10,000
things, taken or left—


Public office acquired by campaign funds
to secure a career? The best solicitor wins?

This thing could be idea-run… we must