The cops carry capos in case you want to change your key

Two poems by Jules Boykoff, from his latest chapbook titled: Philosophical Investigations inna Neo-Con Roots Dub Styley.

Frederick "Toots" Hibbert meets U.S. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld in the Kingston, JA Hilton to discuss their swervingly divergent views on "Old Europe," the fading charade of sex symbololgy, and the ever-unfolding handcuffery of trumped up charges:

I want you to believe every word I say.
I want you to believe everything I do.
A familiar song of Jamaican
nuptials always in a foreign tongue.
Night is a sweet & dandy
numb-bodied multiplication table
a pressure dropped threat
treadmill exploding into massivity
an alphabet of promises
for you theoretical inventory.
The glimmer of a laughing trove.
The cartography of debt.
Surveillance is just a frangrance
just a silent handshake in 1983
just a de-mimeographed tragedy
of also but not additionally
of sweet & dandy pressure
drop home to say hi.

Peter Tosh meets Herbert Marcuse in the student union at UC San Diego in LaJalla, CA to discuss the so-called curvanture of space, "suplus repression," and "the durability of inequality:"

Everyone's crying out for peace but
which September 11 are you talking about?
"The progress of reaction" reacting
where Buddha meets Bobby Bourgeoisie
or where Jah meets Johnnie come lately
to your natural mystic resources?
Tinderboxed glass house for the
negation of negation of vigilantism.
A strong suspicion of institution.
A counter-hegemonic ketchy-ketchy shuby-shuby
[animosity swivel animosity swivel].
Assumption mongering with a dose
of baroque magical theology or two-
toned legalize-it dilettantish Bush Doctor but
one should not demand too much
theoretical elegance where ownership is
elsewhere & elsewhere is
elsewhere too where
we come to nothing
to nothing we come.