VISIONS OF THE EMPIRE: A poem for the 21st century, (Excerpt 002)

by Jon Rappoport (Copyright 2021)

October 27, 2022

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For the full poem, click here.

Excerpt 002:

I saw politicians jumping out of floating windows
their briefcases cracking open
spilling secrets like lazy snowflakes
dazzling in the sun
trillion dollar thefts
naked amazons stashed in condos and yachts
banks sucking money from the vacuum of the heavens
dead agents

in a rock pasture outside Des Moines hitchhiking to New York
glimpses of prehistoric time
before the beginning before the beginning of sacred money
before the first idols were built, before sacrifice was thought of, sly
prophets were trying on robes and combing out their long hair and
rehearsing their future executions

Standing up on a hill past Albuquerque on 66, I caught a ride into a
no-name Arizona town, walked in the foggy morning along an empty
road to a pine-filled snow-filled cliff and stared out at a spring valley
a thousand feet below

In blinding rain I stood on the Indiana Turnpike outside Chicago
pointed east and wound up in the Pennsylvania countryside driving
the car of a half-crippled man with a Bible I met in a Howard
our headlights went dead on a curve and a cop pulled in behind us
and stopped us
he led us to a fat judge’s house in the middle of the night where we
paid thirty bucks
then parked on a quiet lane and slept until dawn
early spring in March
flowering magnolia trees
he dropped two Thorazine and told me to drive
and his babbling about Heaven slowed down and he slept
and when we pulled into Manhattan he had me park in midtown
he looked at me with glazed doe’s eyes and said
son, I’ve reached the end of the line, this is it, within a month I’ll kill

I walked along the astral cloisters of Wall Street among crowds
lapping at honey loopholes in a web of proprietary secrets and I flew
through steel walls into the psychotic fandango of the international
electronic invented money Surge

I recorded architects laying out blueprints for the perfect human in
bunkers of Virginia where silent factories printed minds whose
memories could be selectively erased
technicians built new bodies from tendons and ligaments of cougars
and predatory owls and membranes from soldier ants and feral dogs

I walked through fields of cactus east of Tijuana
into caverns of mass graves where sacrificed Aztec skeletons still
stank in pulsing blood rhymes of a toothless hobo Ziggurat

I sat in the courtroom where the two-hundred-year trial of America
labored like a wounded beast, witness after witness screaming
accusations at captains of production and dark iron-masked
prosecutors hammered their fists on tables and smooth Rockefeller
men sat in the witness box and advocated drugging the population

One Sunday night I walked out of a small bookstore on 3rd Avenue
and a drunken Ben Franklin, wearing his waistcoat and slippers, his
spectacles halfway down his crooked nose, pulled me over to the
doorway of a paint store, and whispered:
“I should prefer, to an ordinary death, being immersed
with a few friends in a cask of Madeira, until that time,
then to be recalled to life by the solar warmth of my
dear country!”

he patted me on the cheek and grinned

What about the weathered Declaration on which you staked your
honor, your future, your fortune, your life, I ask him

His face turns sour
Oh that, he says
They sold it for a war, and it fetched a handsome price
They sold it for a bank, and rated it a fair exchange
They sold it for a choking nightmare called the greater good, and it
drained their living blood
They sold it for a legend of heaven under a burning copper sky and it
vaporized in the whirlwind

(Episode 28 of Rappoport Podcasts — “Why Do I Spend My Time Fighting All This Bullshit? Or, Have We Reached Paradise Yet with the Rainbows and Marshmallows?” — is now posted on my substack. It’s a blockbuster. To listen, click here. To learn more about This Episode of Rappoport Podcasts, click here.)

Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)

To read Jon’s articles on Substack, click here.

Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

2 comments on “VISIONS OF THE EMPIRE: A poem for the 21st century, (Excerpt 002)

  1. Pat Perry says:


    I have no idea why I feel that I get what you are saying in these poems, but I do, and find myself saying ‘fuckinA-right’

    Thanks, as always,


  2. A Reader emailed me the following comment:


    Hi Jon,

    Your poetry reads like Lawrence Ferlinghetti hung out & did shots (of tequila & inspiration) with Candide and Walt Whitman in the bar of the top floor of the old WTC. By midnight, Kurt Vonnegut strolled in toking a hash pipe imitating Walter Concrete. The Statue of Liberty clambered over & leaned in to listen. She’d been forced to tolerate hearing tourists & bankers & mange-stricken mayors for decades; at last some illustrious conversation.

    ..Coming from me, all that’s a compliment. Thanks for sharing your indelible poetry!

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