Father Coughlin

SINCE Eden, we’ve a disposition to
USURP what is not ours;
RADIO merely changed the scale,
SWORN thieves of our attention now beaming into living rooms.

Pitiless

SATIN dress of resplendent sheen on slippery dance floor. A
CRASH – he’s let her slip from his grasp. Shock? Horror? No,
SMIRKs from some, or sneers – no love lost here from rivals;
SCOFFs and jeers from dumb-minded dolls in cotton frocks.

William John Moriarty – WAC Party 1943

Tucker Out

SATIN smooth, you seize the seat of
SCOFFers, urge your camp in honied tones to
CRASH and plunder, to mint contempt as money.
SMIRK on; comes the end, soul is forfeit,
and nothing owned.

The Master

CHOCK full of loopy maxims, my mind erodes.
LOOPY as I am, I still gather groupies.
MAXIMS I offer, the groupies grab them, and my words
ERODE their naïve, untutored, lacking-in-history minds.    

Epistemic Erosion

CHOCK full of gems was old Immanuel Kant,
MAXIM of our deeds: what we ourselves would want.
LOOPY that one against moral chicanery
ERODEd faith in our mental machinery.