Henry's Cantos: Dancin' that Old Wiretap

“Thing is, they hate our freedoms,” Mr. Bush said.
(An odd thing to hate, from over an Ocean).
Nothing we spoke— it’s certain nothing we did—
Could ever have stirred that Muslim commotion.
So let’s take our freedoms, and keep them well-hid,
And foil all the plans they may have in motion.
Better yet, let’s just kill all our freedoms!
If they come round again there’ll be none here to meet ‘em.


A man that’s condemned is safe from a death
—By a firing squad that aims its guns well—
If on the morn of his scheduled last breath,
They find him hung from a rope in his cell.
Like druggies, who find someone’s done all the meth,
The terrorists will know what they can’t quite dispel—
That we’ve been clever, and so business-like,
And aimed on ourselves a pre-emptive strike.


A brilliant idea, I birthed it today:
Things are most safe that are safe in the grave.
Pensions are safest when taken away.
Wetlands are safest when filled-in and paved.
Health care is cheap when there’s no way to pay,
And loonies are pleased when left out to rave.
So let’s dance in jack boots that good fascist rap,
Surveillance, filming, and that old wiretap!