IL D J R Bruckner

IL     D J R Bruckner



I found a folded New York Times today;
I thought I'd see if it were truth or pap.
I flipped it open--what had it to say?
A fish head fell out, "plop," into my lap!

So stained it was with guts and parrot crap;
(They'd used it for the bottom of the cage)
To see Pelosi's picture used like that,
The editors would fly into a rage.

Oh!  There was poop and blood on every page;
So intermixed with all the liberal views.
This mess did simply not my mind engage!
I washed my hands and bought a Daily News.

To see a sacred forum used this way,
Reminds me of the Times in Bruckner's day.

XLVIII Marshall Berman

XLVIII    Marshall Berman



Oh!  All this Marxist bull!  It makes me sick!
The commie manifesto makes me puke!
We've put twelve men upon the moon, you prick!
And all were taught by grandmas.  'Twas no fluke!

American success you do rebuke;
As if our excellence was got by chance;
You're not intelligentia!  You're a kook!
I wouldn't give Karl Marx a second glance.

And while you smugly danced the liberal dance;
The world was built by people in the know;
Of course you'd never once reverse your stance;
So to irrelevancy you must go.

Your communes don't produce a man of spunk.
At crunch-time, when he's needed, he'll be drunk.

XLVII Jean Anyon

XLVII    Jean Anyon



Now everybody knows, who's in the biz;
That education's naught to do with race.
There's some who are a most terrific whiz;
And others who fall flat upon their face.

When rediscovered answers you do chase,
You're bound to stumble onto old Karl Marx.
When what's between your learners you erase,
Your prototypes will not discover quarks,

A dog that goes "meow"; a cat that barks;
Is not an innovation for us, Jean.
So keep to self your communist remarks;
And let us build the national machine.

We don't need fancy NYU degrees;
My grandma used to teach the ABC's.

XLVI Rochus Misch

XLVI    Rochus Misch



I wonder how that Nazi bunker smelled;
The maniacs alive yet in their graves;
Whilst Lugers to each others' heads they held.
You were the last of Fuhrerbunker's knaves.

Just you and Goebbels, marching 'round like slaves;
You watched them kill their children in their beds;
Egomaniacy the mind depraves.
Why did you not shoot Hitler in the head?

It's true, of course, you would have wound up dead,
But could have made your martyrdom sublime.
I guess your death, to you, was quite a dread.
You could have killed him at an earlier time.

You didn't try to do what heroes do.
So are the Goebbels children haunting you?

XLV Abu Mansoor Al-Amriki

XLV    Abu Mansoor Al-Amriki



You were from Alabama, of all things!
A high school nut case; college dropout, too;
Toronto girl and you exchanged two rings;
Abandoned her and child--out of the blue.

Is honest living not enough for you?
You made the FBI most wanted list;
Why bother marrying wife number two?
To leave her for your Muslim jihad tryst?

Upon your family you were just a cyst;
Dinsoor, Somalia was your Waterloo;
No better than a stinking Bolshevist;
And now your jihad's made an end of you.

A bullet took you for a rocket ride.
You should have stayed and cheered the Crimson Tide.

XLIV Saul Landau

SLIV    Saul Landau



I had a Matthews-moment with Fidel;
A thrill went up my leg when he touched me;
And now I'm started on my way to Hell;
With all the other sychophants you see;

When you watch CBS or NBC;
Or read the Post or tune in PBS;
The editors are laughing in their brie;
Who gets their kudos, you can surely guess.

'Een though our dear old country's in a mess,
We ought to follow Castro's proven route.
So put a biased muzzle on the press,
For that's what communism's all about!

If Cuba's so advanced as Landau says,
How come they couldn't save poor old Chavez?