Shut Up Already

So some bitch,
as hollow eyes reach out
from headlines
beyond distended bellies
and dogs sniff each other’s
butts wondering if lucky
might be on the menu
but they forgot,
having had the balls removed
and they'll only be getting laid
by memory only.
 
So some bitch,
giving the finger
to dashing Dan commuters --
and that red light slow response
to the five, four, three, two, one
green takeoff --
and if supper is cold,
it is caused by the bitch ahead,
texting in the Toyota
or the old lady caught in the grid
as red turned to green
and you become red,
cursing the aged walk
 
And if Ginsberg was so disheartened --
maybe a stint in Army green
would have shaved off his girth,
making him gracious
instead of greed for everything
without lifting a finger but
to type grievance,
while chewing the fourth hot dog
and burping up
the last lover.
 
So some bitch,
for bitching is in style
in this land of the free(loader)
and money is pressed into the palms
we genuflect to --
taking home and repeating,
without one iota
of what was said
from the diatribe of
I've got mine, now I want yours
and everyone
is brilliant after the fact,
smiling
as they squat and get rid of
their yesterday's irritable bowel
called America.

Edward Rochester Esq.