Newspoem.

24 February 1999
 

History of Clinton: 

He was born a poor black child. Then he dodged the draft. He went to England. He got married to a lawyer who was smarter than him and knew about real estate speculation. He had a good time. He had a secret meeting with Oliver North in an Arkansas cave. Then he blew a joint in a van parked outside a Tex-Mex restaurant while the C.I.A. turned Arkansas' banking system and industrial base into a banana republic. Then he became president. You see, he was the lollipop man: Mr. Popsickle sir. They were swept away by his visage, and passing sports cars winked slender in the District of Columbia sunshine.   

He appointed an entire cabinet of dope-smoking long-haired barefoot miscreants (and a black guy) who never obtained the proper security clearance to even be in the White House, much less work there. He appointed the Bride of Frankenstein. First he cut job security. Then he burned down a man's house with him and his family in it. He bombed Iraq because of an alleged failed assassination attempt on former president Bush, perfecting the precedent established by Bush for using military force against an entire country (Panama, Iraq, Sudan, Afghanistan) because of a single individual residing therein. The thing is the thing, he thought, swinging a pocketwatch. He smiled and waved and was viciously satirized in every corner of the media. He accrued the moniker "Slick Willie" before it was a sex joke. With that he promenaded up and down the boulevard with his cashmere slacks rustling like a bigshot. He had the CIA assassinate Bukowski, Leary, Ginsberg, Burroughs, William Gaddis, and Hunter S. Thompson, though this last poisoning attempt failed due to the target's habit of vomiting. He took an educated stand against drugs, because he liked cops and knew from experience that legalization would damage the profits to be made from importing cocaine. He played saxophone on TV wearing wayfarer shades and a pinstripe suit, lit from below. He was photographed with foreign leaders and, in war-torn parts of the globe, masterminded seventeen failed peace settlements. Then he drafted a crime bill to send more people to prison. Then he ensured that healthcare would remain boring and unattainable. He then satisfied his wife sexually on national television. Then he hired a fleet of limousines and ordered air strikes against a small Arab country. Then he committed consensual adultery. Then he gave a deadly army a budget increase. Then he drafted another crime bill and put more men in uniforms with weapons in the street. Then he committed adultery. Then a book came out detailing his involvement in cocaine smuggling, which was ignored. Then he eluded his bodyguards and, lying hidden in a limousine, went to secret destinations. Then one of his cabinet members mysteriously died of a bullet-wound in the head. Then his private jet was stuck in the mud. Then he ordered more airstrikes against Arabic and African nations, and dispatched peacekeeping forces to Eastern Europe. Then he gave a speech. Then he expressed his willingness to use nuclear weapons in a first strike. Then he expressed his willingness to bomb government buildings in countries where suspected criminals reside. Then he flew to Africa and Asia. Then he was photographed. Suspending benefits for retired workers, he walked into the museum like the pope walking into church. Then he paid to develop new weapons of mass destruction. Then DNA tests proved he was not the father of the child of an Arkansas prostitute.  

Then he was acquitted and stood on the edge on the New World Order a new man, just standing there like Washington crossing the Delaware just thinking about how sweet the next air strike would be.   

The kid is still the kid, you'll see.   

Old Bill is back. 

 


Newspoetry at Spineless Books