Body Politic 2017- A Rap by DJTazzieDog

The mopping of life
To a pristine glint of shine
Holds no godliness, nothing divine
The odd finesse of once deemed “woman’s work”
The cooking, the cleaning, the preening,
The meaning of it all
The demeaning, the gall
To gauge progress by the pace of the crawl
To an equal place, for an equal wage, an equal chance
On an open stage
Mucking through the blamegaming, shame blaming
Feigned respect from the mansplaining intellect
Is fucking slow at best.
I know, I get it,
The reins held tight, hard to change to what’s right
And engage the click clacking bright light
Of feminine insight.
Nothing more, nothing less required for redress

The amygdala when undressed
Shows no sexy sashay
No tight tops, no vee drops
No licking of the predatorial chops
By an ass grabbing fop
No sidelong glances with a wink and a nod
To the left prefrontal cortex
Where intelligence lurks
No matter the length of her skirt.
This Pandora world, swirls, whirls with evil intent
Mankind bent on a relentless pursuit of power
The time grows short,
The breathing grows shallow
With women grows hope,
This is the hour

Not All Smiles Are The Same

If ordering "1984", George Orwell's dystopic masterpiece of newspeak, sold out in the few bookstores left in town, consider a non-order from Amazon, even if you've paid $99 to be prime and gain free shipping, not to mention a two-day delivery. Still, consider the real costs to our marketplace's buy-o-diversity. This single micro-organizationism, an e-commerce suck-up and transactor of transactions, making an art out of the financial loss in order to gain the world, has gamed us. We went for the bargain, the convenience, following that smile that now lurks behind canned goods, pasta and potatoes and, well, just about everything. Are we not the drones?