Whine (for Allen Ginsberg)

 I’ve seen the worst minds of my generation:

“Why don’t I have a place in the sun?

Why didn’t I get confirmed as ‘Secretary of

Whatever’ with no credentials whatsoever?

Why can’t I, a lonely terrorist, come to the USA,

be fed, housed, and given money so I can prepare 

for a scare event?

Why don’t I have a government job that I could 

never, ever, ever, ever, ever, no matter what, be 

fired from?

Why doesn’t the world always do what I want,

and always make me happy?

You can believe me because I never lie

and I’m always right.

You wonder why

I identify 

as a bunny?”