For Ernesto Che Guevara

At long last
I’ve seen the past
and much like the future
it was murder
Since the beginning
of forever
brother Cain came
with low blows
to impose
a new world order
I thank Christ
some had time to grasp
the hand at task
For chaos never stops
to count the cost
But I blame myself
for a world of mayhem
and uncivil disorder
ever since the canonization
of my dearest friend
Ernesto Che Guevara

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Mister Stork

In the lounge room of my childhood
there’s this small box made of wood.
And when I open it’s varnished lid
up pops a finely painted stork.
A cigarette wedged in his beak,
with the promise of something good …

“Care to try a Peter Stuyvesant?
Tailor made for the Jet-Set!
You’ve been on a plane.
And you’re a big boy now, all of nine.
You’ll find the taste most pleasant,
and you’ll soon be feeling fine.”

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