Paul Adrian Fried
Northfield, MN
Poet and English instructor for Minnesota State University, Mankato.
THE ANTHRAX CONSPIRACY SONG
If your mail contains a powder,
don’t try mixing it with chowder.
Don’t sniff— You’ll sneeze all the louder:
Might be anthrax.
Especially if you’re Democrat,
we might send you some-o-that.
If you’re not a Bushy pay-tree-at,
Watch for anthrax.
If you’re in the media,
we’ll get it to ya speediah.
You dis us, we’ll defeaty-ya:
Fear-by-anthrax.
If your job is mail delivery,
you may think you’ve-got-the-flu. You shivery?
If you die, well, hey, forgive me
‘bout that anthrax.
Next, you think some terrorist
has got you on a little list--
decided you should not be missed . . . .
(They sent anthrax!)
But it’s not from out Iraqi-way,
or from bin-Laden— not today.
Maybe it's the CIA
sending anthrax?
It was not a natural strain:
The spores, a dried and fine-cut grain;
the static charge removed--insane?
Weapon-anthrax.
We make this kind at Fort Detrick.
It floats in air. It doesn’t stick.
The FBI suspects the trick:
It’s our anthrax.
Anthrax old as cold war--
what Nixon signed that treaty for.
But breaking’s what a treaty’s for—
with our anthrax.
It’s not from out Iraqi-way,
or from bin-Laden--not today.
Maybe Dubya’s dad said, Hey,
"Iran-Contra" -anthrax!
Who conceives such dark events?
Psy-Ops here have relevance.
Military intelligence
sending anthrax?
Like another Watergate--
Be sure to check that postmark date.
The Patriot Act could not be late:
We sent anthrax.
Covert actions. Have no doubt:
the most successfully carried out
are those we’ve never heard about.
Watch that anthrax!
Hey! Watch that anthrax!
Honey, can you get the mail?
THE PIPELINE IS FOR YOU (song)
1.
When I was a boy, I loved an Afghani girl.
She had the most beautiful eyes in the world.
I saved her from the Soviets in surrogate-war style;
then I turned my back on her for just a little while....
She braved the Taliban, and all of these years,
her voice keeps coming back and ringing in my ears:
(she said)
Refrain:
The pipeline is for you, only for you.
You are my American boy, a whole world’s dream come true.
The dark oil may be crude, but it will keep you ridin’ smooth....
Come ride inside my boy: The pipeline is for you.
2.
We laid down in fields of poppies, fields of opium gold . . .
I prayed that love and pipeline oil would never grow old—
would never give out—and if Allah answers prayer,
I’d lift the veil, kiss her face, and run my fingers through her hair....
She braved the Taliban, and all of these years,
her voice keeps coming back and ringing in my ears . . . .
(refrain)
3.
The light around her face— well, it launched a thousand ships,
a thousand planes and strange allegiances, all to win her lips.
She says that she found Allah in the month of Ramadan—
She says I only loved my SUV: Now I want her back again.
Is it just an addiction, a full tank, a patriotic high?
Or is it really love when our bombs fall from the sky?
(refrain)
Bridge:
Here’s a message from your leaders and some of their corporate friends:
fossil fuels may all run dry, but these wars may never end.
(refrain)
- November 26, 2001
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