you're reading...
poetry, politics

Put a Flag on It

On this momentus occasion of dictator licking dictator, I entertained several streams of rambling thought combined with nagging conscience.  Can a poem really do this justice?  Of course!  Poems can do anything!  They are like people if people did things to other people to get them to consider one dictator booty kissing another dictator.

Pomp and circumstance may be necessary at times.  And other times, it is a fancily wrapped poo pile.  It serves as distraction and to inspire feelings of false intensity.  Like a childhood friendship bracelet, do we really need one if we mean it?  It’s not going to convince anybody else.

America is often a beaming toddler.  Look at me!  Aren’t I the best present under the tree?  Which is okay if you’re a toddler.  But not if you’re 242.

At some point, you graduate and assume a cloak of upright and appropriate dignity.  It’s no longer clever to blame everyone else when your mashed potatoes taste bad.  You made them.  Perhaps you should learn to cook.

It’s not new.  It’s not groundbreaking.  It just is.

Who needs reality TV when we are living our very own shit show?  And yet, we choose our own reality.  The little men in bright red hats conduct their own orchestra.  One, the rest of us can’t hear.  What’s bad is great and what’s great is bad.  Those who can’t define propaganda will ultimately spread it.

And who am I?  Mentally ill crafter awash in coffee addiction, watching birds out my window, and scratching the poison ivy?  I feel almost dead.


Let’s Buy McDonald’s and Blame the Calories on China!




Let’s buy McDonald’s

and blame the calories

on China.

It is a big country.

But we pretend we are bigger.

Massive, on a global scale

but maybe only one scale.

Bravado and guts do not make

glory but put a flag on it.

Everything is better with flags.

The flag will win the war.

A taco is not a cheeseburger

so we send it back.

There is no room for more.

We say it and it’s so.

Let’s buy Fair Trade

and dump the packaging

in the sea.

Then copyright and

sue any stealers of

ingenious ideas.

Who came first?

The native or the land?

Squash the stupid

questions and plant

the spies of antiquity.

Soon the moon

will swallow

in a resting time.


About missyrogers

Lifelong Michigander, early 40s, craft addict, chihuahua collector, coffee drinker, recovering human being, bipolar I, electronic music lover, bullshit caller, 5' tall, my blood is organic, and I refuse to be anything else. I will write until I die.


No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 115 other followers

Queen of the bad haircuts with coffee for blood.

%d bloggers like this: