“They sell us the President the same way; they sell us our clothes and our cars. They sell us every thing from youth to religion; the same time they sell us our wars. I want to know who the men in the shadows are; I want to hear somebody asking them why; they can be counted on to tell us who our enemies are; but they’re never the ones to fight or to die. And there are lives in the balance; there are people under fire; there are children at the cannons; and there is blood on the wire” – Jackson Browne
30,000 warriors
now crouched
tiger like
gladiators in sand
sons and daughters of freedom
awaiting a word
to strike
to liberate
to do what she was
meant to do
now Rome
crusaders of pure force
no reality can resist
doing right
call out the Instigators
rile up the gonad boys
coil them like a spring
and set them on the move
all muscle and sinew and bone
with great balls on fire
to wrench the villain
from his mortal coil
to save the world for
football, baseball and Broadway plays
cancelled till we kill em all
Hu Ra!
It’s on to Iran
and let’s win there
investors in bullets are happy again
another war in sand
no need to modulate now
cause freedom fighting terrorists
have unlocked the cuffs
and taken off the gloves
cause there’s Gooks in the wire
and fire in the hole
yippee ki ai a mother fucker
and a’ high ho silver
till we’re slipping and slidin’
ankle-deep
In the warm dark maroon
viscous liquid goo.
so rally round the flag boys
awake from yesterday
asleep in the hammock
with the spoils of gain afire on the grill
while children play with grand new toys
and mothers mix the martinis.
our Torah toting allies have promised
to clean out that nasty hornet’s nest from under the eve
not loafing now,
serenely in the tradition of Steinbeck
that being their hard-won and God-given right
content
now a scream and a shriek
one of the children has had a nasty sting.
once aroused
no longer somnambulist with conditioned identities
a nation in echo as one,
these insects will be dealt with now
Son, bring along the DDT.
my Uncle Sam calls My America
now also abed
to arm
Miller time is over
throw off the Xanax and Prozac
fire up the knuckle draggers
rally round the flag boys.
once the fight is joined
we’ll answer also the question long since haunting
what is the true price of our oil addiction
when the War in Sand and the rubble of Lower Manhattan is calculated in
the greatest generation beheld not greater men,
but regular men with greater challenges
we now ours and whack-majinihad his
if he rally us round the flag boys
we’ll achieve that greatness
too long denied
finally
another good war
in living dead color
on CNN
Nick Masesso, Jr. 
Crossfire
November 20, 2012 1 Comment
“They sell us the President the same way; they sell us our clothes and our cars. They sell us every thing from youth to religion; the same time they sell us our wars. I want to know who the men in the shadows are; I want to hear somebody asking them why; they can be counted on to tell us who our enemies are; but they’re never the ones to fight or to die. And there are lives in the balance; there are people under fire; there are children at the cannons; and there is blood on the wire” – Jackson Browne
30,000 warriors
now crouched
tiger like
gladiators in sand
sons and daughters of freedom
awaiting a word
to strike
to liberate
to do what she was
meant to do
now Rome
crusaders of pure force
no reality can resist
doing right
call out the Instigators
rile up the gonad boys
coil them like a spring
and set them on the move
all muscle and sinew and bone
with great balls on fire
to wrench the villain
from his mortal coil
to save the world for
football, baseball and Broadway plays
cancelled till we kill em all
Hu Ra!
It’s on to Iran
and let’s win there
investors in bullets are happy again
another war in sand
no need to modulate now
cause freedom fighting terrorists
have unlocked the cuffs
and taken off the gloves
cause there’s Gooks in the wire
and fire in the hole
yippee ki ai a mother fucker
and a’ high ho silver
till we’re slipping and slidin’
ankle-deep
In the warm dark maroon
viscous liquid goo.
so rally round the flag boys
awake from yesterday
asleep in the hammock
with the spoils of gain afire on the grill
while children play with grand new toys
and mothers mix the martinis.
our Torah toting allies have promised
to clean out that nasty hornet’s nest from under the eve
not loafing now,
serenely in the tradition of Steinbeck
that being their hard-won and God-given right
content
now a scream and a shriek
one of the children has had a nasty sting.
once aroused
no longer somnambulist with conditioned identities
a nation in echo as one,
these insects will be dealt with now
Son, bring along the DDT.
my Uncle Sam calls My America
now also abed
to arm
Miller time is over
throw off the Xanax and Prozac
fire up the knuckle draggers
rally round the flag boys.
once the fight is joined
we’ll answer also the question long since haunting
what is the true price of our oil addiction
when the War in Sand and the rubble of Lower Manhattan is calculated in
the greatest generation beheld not greater men,
but regular men with greater challenges
we now ours and whack-majinihad his
if he rally us round the flag boys
we’ll achieve that greatness
too long denied
finally
another good war
in living dead color
on CNN
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Filed under Commentary, Government, History, Poetry, politics Tagged with Alprazolam, Billy Pilgrim, CNN, Culture, DDT, fahrenheit 911, Hunger Games, Islam, Israel, Jackson Browne, Kurt Vonnegut, Lower Manhattan, Michael Moore, Middle East, Oliver Stone, Palestine, Politics 2, redneck friend, Slaughterhouse-Five, Television, Thoughts, Torah, Uncle Sam, United States, War, Writing