The Fascists Are Always Perverts

And 8 other poems about government power.

Dash MacIntyre
4 min readDec 10, 2024
Photo by Rob Griffin on Unsplash

The Fascists Are Always Perverts

it’s the writers who have to take sides

mark clear lines at which the fascism has begun

earning the hate of fascists never goes out of style

so I write books mocking them so if they take over

and send me to the camps

I’ll have satisfactorily earned

their existentially impotent incel blood lust rage

and what writer wants to live

in a dictatorial regime anyway

the forced politicization of thought and art

by sexually deranged fascists

it’s better off letting your example

spark resistance in others

who are better suited for surviving years

of totalitarian suffering

and what a compliment from fascists

to be early on their purging rolls!

Petersburg, Virginia

sitting in a trench with orders tomorrow to go over at dawn

I consider how I will almost certainly die tomorrow

little of the wave today survived

and if I am spared it’s likely I’ll be maimed

and shunned for a life in the gutter

so here I am on my last night of existence

sitting in a gash in the earth uncomfortable

and cold and a little hungry

with wet boots and soggy feet turning a worrying color

smoking a bland cigarette

and writing a last letter to my parents.

Imperial Nouveau

we fought together shoulder to shoulder

to free the native tribes from monarch bondage

and cleaned their wounds and fed them feasts

and when at last the upstart democracy

threw the crown into the sea

we turned against the freedom fighters

and took their land for our own imperial flag.

The Country Needs You

so you fight and are disabled

and then you come back

and the people you fought for

don’t want to look at you

and won’t make eye contact long

handing you coins and small bills

as most walk quickly past you on the street

and an administration or two later

your promised bonuses are ignored

and the societal emasculation weighs you down

as we wait for you to die

the death of an uncomfortable sacrifice

for our freedom.

Movements Of Cynicism

romanticism aged ugly from the bombastic pockmarking

inaugurating modernity with the great war

a war that should have but haha didn’t

end all war and dada drowned itself

not silly enough for the moment

and the radical avant-garde were arrested

by surrealized fascist pop stars

putting everyone to work digging the empires’ graves

before the post-modern epilogue into nuclear madness

and schoolyard bluster of private schooled government suits

bluffing the destruction of millions of people

saving face in jerkoff poker

as existentialism is the last inhaled breath of humanity’s soul

and the poets hallucinate absurdism in their asphyxiation

and with wheezing lungs wander the wasteland wasting.

My Revolution Starting Pen

I am for artistic liberty

amidst conscripted nationalism and so am armed

with absurdism and blasphemy

proof that prayer cannot stop a heathen

I am a guerrilla pouring the sweet nectar of disrespect

into the public fountain

whispering polite obscenities to doomscrollers

for sanity’s sake

a trolling spotlight on the kaiser’s culpability

for all the statist madness

it’s asymmetrical warfare that brings down

the monarchs and emperors.

A Liberating Binge

the enemy was leaving town without a fight

quietly in the dead of night

and the reporter glum at how slow

and boring was the coming action

saw his opportunity for exciting

the ruckus he was craving

and he secured the neighborhood

one liquor store or bar after another

and inspired a partisan uprising

to parade around conquering the city

and in the morning met

the americans’ patrols and army tank columns

and standing in the back of a truck bed

he poured the general a shot

of the oldest aged whiskey bottle he had found

and offered the general the key

to the city he had already liberated.

Business Boom

a profiteer sits in his high floor corporate office

smoking a cigar pondering which potential war

would be most profitably manufactured

which peaceful people unaccustomed to belligerence would

as his employees truck crates of ammunition to the port

he is a murderer but a safe one

with the immunity of spreadsheets

and protected by middle managers and shell companies

he leaves no blood-soaked weapons himself

but the weapons are all his

and government lobbying for a war of attrition

he makes sure that business is always booming.

Gobblers

there are turkeys on the television

behind the anchor desk

in front of a world map gobbling away

with all the breaking news

the news corporations gave up their journalistic responsibilities

it’s cheaper to hire birds as their newshour hosts. 🥃

Enjoy my comedy and political commentary? Buy me a coffee!

But first subscribe to my free Substack The Halfway Café to get my work delivered right to your inbox. In this second Trumpian era of surrealist governance, nothing is more important than comedy, so consider becoming a paid member to help me write full-time!

Check out my Linktree for all my digital branches, but definitely follow The Halfway Post on Twitter, Threads, or Bluesky to interrupt your daily political doomscrolling with my Dada News.

If you think Donald Trump is a joke, I published the book for you: “Satire In The Trump Years: The Best Of The Halfway Post,” available on Barnes & Noble and Amazon. I also have two poetry books full of Millennial existentialism, Cabaret No Stare and Moon Goon available in print and on Kindle.

Browse my comedy portfolio, my Dada News portfolio, and my poetry portfolio.

--

--

Dash MacIntyre
Dash MacIntyre

Written by Dash MacIntyre

Comedian, political satirist, and poet. Created The Halfway Post. Check out my comedy book Satire In The Trump Years, and my poetry book Cabaret No Stare.

No responses yet