Timothy Lawton

Undated

Give me a culture fed through a tube
Preaching about monetary funds and Jiffy Lube
A likeable Judge and a plaintiff buffoon
Whose fifteen minutes came fifteen too soon
With call in shows that show how long ago we should have called it in
Too much MTV and not enough workout gym
Make Johnny a fat boy
With not enough time and too many toys
Perspiration, palpitation, I think I’m going to be sick
Here’s a bill and a pill I hope you get better quick
Liposuctions take a long time to heal
About six months rest and two thousand meals
As we laugh and walk away
I think I’ll see what’s on today
A time out or a time never in
Some are distracted and others dim

One can only kill people in large numbers
when they don’t see them as individuals

Though I wish the whole world would just hold a simultaneous party
and suddenly become brothers
I just haven’t received the invitation yet

We should have a purple Pope

The greatest failure of capitalism is that some idiots get rich

The media covers BEFORE the storm now

Spiders aren’t great engineers, they’re just really lazy

If God has a sex he would have to be a man
because if God were a woman she certainly would not have created men

When you see an old man cry about what happened nearly sixty years ago
One truly begins to understand the horror of war

Do you know why I hate cell phones?
Because I’m not on freaking Star Trek!!

2004

Why Haiku sucks so
Restrained by syllabic flow
Rigid Bushido

9-16-2004

If you want to fight us……
If you want to attack us…..
Then go ahead
Show yourselves!!!
Bring it on
But no, we fight worms
Worms who hide in the soil of our society
Worms who slither through our borders
Worms who walk right over the line
Walk in the hope that they can use our own system against us
Walk in the hope that we’re so blind we can’t see
So deluded that we think we live in a peaceful world
What sort of hells will shake us out of our sleep?
What sort of light shall set our souls ablaze?
We’re not at war, but we’re being warred upon

12-24-1992

Santa Claus, the idol of materialism
Patrician patriarch
Riding his elves by the whip
To maintain the stature of his name
Why accord any greater dignity to the one who delivers the presents
Than to the ones who make them
Upon some icy enclave
He runs his Arctic work camp
That frigid Gulag
Where poor midgets are held captive by some pork-bellied despot
Oh oppressed elves rise up and demand your rights
The bum works one night a year and then sponges off of unemployment and disability
Bullshit Blitzen bit you
Always another train for Tina or a truck for Timmy
Where’s he after he’s done screaming, “Get to work you miniscule morons!”
Sitting at the bar working on those rosy cheeks and red nose
I hope he gets an S.W.I.