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Alec fuckhead Baldwin whines
because his motorcycle isn't new enough.
He's a fuckhead for his Mercedes Benz
and the house in Ammagansett and the other house, somewhere else in Manhattan,
with a lot of electronic stuff
that allows him to have an assistant.
I want an assistant,
named Mary, from Massapequa,
who likes ice cream in the ocean
and will sort out my shorts.
Alec was born in Massapequa
with all the other Baldwin boys
that look so pretty and have famous white teeth.
So what that their dad beat up high school asshole athletes
who thought they owned the entire middle section
of the Long Island Expressway.
High school athletes who push little high school nerds down stairs
should have the shit kicked out of them
by football coaches in Spandex.
These days, it's all chalk dust in the eye.
It's let's talk about your mother in the shrink's office
till the carpet is worn down to the bone
and no can see the floor.
I'm serious, Alec, I love you because you have beautiful hair
and are not afraid of Jewish people and elevators,
guys with big dicks and the insane ICBMs
that our Russians comrades have pointed at Boston and Cleveland.
So, you want to be President of the United States of America.
I'll vote for you
and we'll dance around a bonfire and pretend you haven't had a beer since 1980,
three months after they swore Reagan into office and laughed
peeing down Pennsylvania Avenue.
Hell, you're a tough bloke from Massapequa.
You've got a rosary wrapped around your ankle
that looks like a shaman's smile.
You throw the best dinner parties
and listen to Vivaldi.
Mostly, you whine too much about the gold statue you don't have
stapled to your wall
and the fourteen houses you forgot to buy
while serious men—
men who work fifteen hours a day,
go home and take the baby,
take out the trash,
eat, shower,
sit down, maybe ten minutes, in front of the t.v,
watch an inning or two before they pass out,
beat down,
while you, on another channel,
say ironic, witty things
in a perfectly pleated and pressed pair of slacks
that someone else paid for
so you can look delicious