Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                              A Pasty Boy in Knee-Pantsies
               Lectures on the Supremacy of Gun Ownership
                             Over Access to Baby Formula

You say our baby’s starving?
Don’t bother me with that
As long as I got me my gun
To rat-a-tat-tat!

There's a Quazooy on the loosey!
In my roomy there is. No fooey.
No fooey a Quazooy, loosey, really?
What's the Quazooy do-y?
Silly Quazooy dancey on deskies.
Dancey, Nancy, fancy pantsies!

Quazooy, want somey Tutti fruity?
Snooty Quazooy no eaty fruity.
What do-y Quazooy wanty?
"No eaty," said droopy Quazooy.
Quazooy sicky? Have the fluy?

"Quazooy no more fancy Dancey.
Quazooey needy tummy rubby."
Awe-y, cutie Quazooy no more dancey,
no eaty fruity, likey tummy rubby.
Now Quazooey tummy grumbly,
Facey lookies redy and crumbly.

Few wee! Quazooey now I knowy!
No more desky fancy dacey,
Not Tutti fruity, 'cause youy
wenty tooty in your pantsies!
Now Quazooy once morey dancey.
Fancy Nacey pantsy dancey.
Luvy Quazooy nowy not ooyie!

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                     The Stupidest Metaphor

                         Do these camouflage knee-pantsies
                       make my 250-pound *** look too big?

He never formed up with a skirmish line
To **** and snoop to some distant trees
Across a death-hot field of weeds and mud
With some idiot yelling, “Dress it up!”

He never feared that a 40-mike-mike
Would blow his guts and spine into ****** rags
Which would get his air-conditioned C/O
In Saigon another medal and promotion

His PTSD is from watching TV
But he is pleased to claim that he is a
                                                                ­      *warrior

~*~

Rising from the earth,
like the native Comanche.
He’s really quite dandy.
Introducing...
President Chimpanzee.

So fierce and strong,
like a banshee—
but brave and cute,
Like little orphan Annie.
No, his name’s not Randy,
or Sandy, or Fannie, or Mandy—
get it right!
The name’s,
Chimpanzee.

You may find him with Andy,
eatin’ nanners in the pantry,
but no need to get antsy—
He’s not getting handy with granny!
I mean, come on—
he’s a chimpanzee!

Oh, that fuzzy man candy.
His ideas—so fancy dancy.
Building a democratic jungle of equality.
A born leader like King Ramsey!
Did you forget him already?
You know the dude...
Chimpanzee.

So, get up, America!
Stop playing with your testies.
Pull up your pantsies.
Go gather all that you can see,
and put them in a frenzy—
with definite intensity,
For the
              grandly,
                swanky,
                  vigilante,
                    Yankee,
                       of Miami.

Give us liberty.
Give us...
President Chimpanzee.

Heaves of Gas

I sing the bodiless electronic
Manly working man blank verse flannel shirt
All gone now
Pajamas and video games
Cupcake competitions instead of schoolyard tug-o’-war
A gap-toothed grilled-cheese sandwich singing under the sea
Bi-polar bears alt.yawn Revolutionary Proletarian Art with    
      Selfie  Sticks
Banana Daiquiri Republic
Must be nice to be a thinker all great
Adored by all, and subsidized by the state
Made in Nicaragua by free-range artisans, I think
Re-Presentation
Rhinestone tattoo flipflopped knee-pantsies and a cartoon tee
Die, Webinar, Die
Up the Revolution you can’t make me clean my room
Machine against the rage on the cosmic app
Renewable green sanctions
Double-double boil and bubble a froth’ed mocha decaf with a
      tinkling of Cinnamon
We are the drones we have been waiting for

Who can tell the Faw from the Aunty Faw?
CarryBOO herds in ballcaps, tees, and tats
Outlaw-scary-masks and gas-station shades
Parachute-pantsies and designer sneaks

          You write no books, you sing no songs – you shriek
          You do no work, you make no art          – you shriek
          You do no good, you help no one           - you shriek
          You make no thoughtful arguments      – you shriek

And all of you dressed like corpses-in-law:
Who can tell the Faw from the Aunty Faw?

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                           The Dignity of the Office

Whatever the incoming president fancies
(One hopes to speak without fear of libel)
Ageing (entertainers) in chancy pantsies
And will he take his oaf on a Village People Bible?