American Nightmare, The

We're already there,
Just blink.
Open your eyes.
The warmth of our American
Nuclear-paranoid reality,
is glowing
hot against our faces.

Russia's on the blacklist
Of the political Big Boys Club, again.
Shot down like Mir,
Flames of destruction
Raining from the sky-

2001: A Space Odyssey.
Welcome to Sputnik,
Julius and Ethel roll in their graves
while, Russian Diplomats are escorted
Foot to rear, from America.

We're already there.
Turn off the Television.
Hang up the phone.
Step away from the monitor.
Get off the cyber slut.

We're on a bullet train,
Headed straight towards
The center of America's
biggest Land fill--
soon to be the Eighth
Wonder of the World!

Smell the stench of Staten Island,
The trash ISN'T glowing,
(wink, wink)
That ISN'T a toxic waste dump.
The fish DON'T have 3 eyes,
Those ARE fins, not feet.

Just blink.
Open your eyes.

Wipe away the
Plaguing chill
Of sweat when
You wake from the
American Nightmare.

California has not cracked off? yet,
They're working towards extinction
Turf wars to create
a Hollywood ghost town
Bang-Bang!
This is my hood.
Whoa dude, d'ja see those tumbleweeds?

The tides of America,
are crashing against
Miami's Million Dollar Mile

Eroding,
Crumbling away
the runway
of our topless underwear models

Gallivanting in
G-strings tied at the hip,
Acrylic daggers super glued
To their fingertips.

Air brushed, silicone
symbols of beauty,
With Bee stung lips
&; lipo-suctioned hips

Reality check,
Lose that CatFight,
Lady Liberty'll scratch your eyes out.

We're already there.
Love surrounds us,
Beats us down
With cupids bow?
Impales us with his arrows.

We're already there.
He doesn't love you.
That ISN'T his niece.
The flowers on the
credit card bill
were not for his sick mother.
The hotel bill was not a mistake.
Just blink.
Open your eyes.

Reality check.
We're already there.
Move on.
Curious George
Is now our President
Play a little ditty
And watch him wiggle.

Slick Willy's gone,
So are semantics.

Go back to sleep
To find America's Dream.
This is America's Nightmare.

Shut up and deal with reality.
We're already there.
There is no such thing as
personal space, there is only cyber space

The clustered cubicles have expanded,
There is a large
community of Pod people
climbing Vertically
through the hole in our glass ceiling.

Get intimate, New York City style
Jump a cross-town bus
Swipe your metrocard!
Squeeze into the New Jersey PATH train
At rush hour-cuddle right up to a new face.

Smell the morning breath,
See the sleep still crusty in the corner
Of a stranger's eye?
Hear about a one-night stand,
Whispered into the ear
Of the human sardine packed in
a nice gel of ego sauce next to you.

Taste the foundation of our
American Dreams as they crumble
into the amalgamated soup mix
in the International Melting Pot
of politics.

We're already there.