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Clinton Fein - Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

Politics, Poems and Pictures

Let’s dump toxins in their soil
Lest they think it’s just for oil
Let’s burn a perpetual funeral pyre
Let’s call it a plan and not a quagmire

Let’s trade in our freedom, abandon our reason
Let’s fade out dissent and replace it with treason

Let’s lie and lose and let’s kill and die
Let’s share our blood soaked apple pie Covers

From the Clinton years to the two Bush Administrations that followed,’s covers documented everything that happened and changed almost weekly. 

Every image was accompanied by poetry that borrowed stole and repurposed everything from lyrics to familiar odes.

These are just a few of them. 

Amina Lawal

Nigerian Cry

(Sung to the tune of American Pie)

It was not very long ago
I wish I could forget it now
An awful burden stole her smile
She didn’t really stand a chance
There never was a great romance
A pawn, a victim, hero for a while

Did you dare to think of love
Before you felt another shove
Sharia’s latest double blow?
Do you think this stain upon your soul
Will help you gain any more control
Do you think this is the lowest that you can go?

Well the cause celebre light goes dim
With increasing loss of life and limb
And the latest headline news
Like a lighted dynamite fuse
It was your country’s hope, a stroke of luck
To show the world it was not stuck
But who knew things would run amok
Amina Lawal hide
I started prayin’

Why, why Miss Nigerian Cry
Tried to stone you, then enthrone you but then things went awry
Tried to rescue, but then left you in the blink of an eye
Nigeria’s shame, you’ll bear the blame, why?
‘Cos Allah says that women must die.

Now perched upon you global throne
In solidarity you’re all alone
It’s just as it will always be
For a Julia Morley beauty queen
In abayas, veils, face unseen
Laura sewing kits to set you free
While Nigeria prettied up downtown
You danced in your Ramadan gown
A sharia court was scorned
Your people weaved the thorns
And as contestants flew in, happy larks
Lipstick kisses, powder masks
You still knew they had you marked
Amina Lawal cry
We were prayin’


Belt her, welt her, cut her, throat her
Bear her face, her only shelter
Tie her to her sordid past
Head rocks, dead rocks, flying fast
From the sidelines, watch aghast
Trying to pick a winner is a blast
Now the critics pens will seal her doom
Her life will end and very soon
A story book advance
From a strictly feminist stance
And as Halle Berry leads the field
And credit flaps at writers guilds
The grossest gross this tale will yield
Amina Oscar cries
We were countin’


Oh pretty woman, covered lace
Mascara running down your face
Is it over? someone tell me when
So come on Amina, don’t be sick
While raging mullas pound their sticks
This beauty contest furor is your friend
And as you stand upon the stage
The world departs in righteous rage
You’ve already gone to hell
Now watch your story sell
And as Christian martyrs offer light
And campus sit ins join your plight
You wonder girl, you brave delight
Amina Lawal, bye

Now girls parade where public views
Celebrate objects in high heel shoes
World Peace wantons led astray
The profane lust of Nigeria’s whore
That caused the men to go to war
A score to settle, so the women will obey
Where now feminists, not the pious, scream
Where teenagers stoned, rock the English dream
From this nightmare you won’t be woken
You miserable little token
And the men who seem to hate you most
Muhammad, Allah, and abandoned host
Jesus Christ, you’re the holy ghost
A lowly prophet’s bride
We started prayin’

Chorus (x2)

We started prayin’
We started prayin’

Unbearable Likeness

Heil to the Chief

Heil to the Chief the Court has chosen for the nation,
Heil to the Chief! We must obey him, one and all._______
Heil to the Chief, as he destroys cooperation_____
In flagrant violation of an international call.____

Your unilateral aim will make our grand economy weaker,
A sleight of the hand, by a Bush, is worth two.__
Heil to the second, we all regret is our commander,
Heil to the President! Emperor of the few!

September 23, 2002

Unbearable Likeness
Clinton Fein: Chosen


Another bomb, another day
Another funeral today
Another story, headline news
There is no choice, you have to choose.

The few, the proud, the brave, the Chosen
The few, the wretched, the shamed, the frozen
The walls are high, the rivers dry, the coffins closed, the empty lie
There is no hope, just plenty rope when you’re the Chosen.

You’ve got nothing left to lose,
When you’re Chosen, you can’t choose. You can’t stand in others shoes,
you cannot win, you choose, you lose.

Another tank, another stone
Select, superior, stand alone
Chosen people, self-appointed
Self-destructive, self-anointed
Self defensive, God imposed
God intended, God intoned.

You’ve got nothing left to lose,
When you’re Chosen, you can’t choose.
Your hands are tied, your options frozen,
You have no choice when you are Chosen

August 14, 2002

Mind the Gap

Stem cell jitters, dignity;
Praying cabinets, punctuality.
Faith based handouts, drinking daughter;
Missile madness, arsenic water.

Pacemaking peacemaking;
Conservative compassion.
Prep boy conscience, redneck fashion.

Falling stock options, capital dry.
Capitol spending, shields in the sky.
Mail refunds; market crash;
Petty policy, petty cash.
Diluted trademarks, tarnished trust;
Dollars dwindling, In God We Bust.
Bailouts, burnouts, economic ash;
Layoffs, cutbacks, Presidential splash.

August 1, 2001

Tax Relief
Look Daddy

Look Daddy

The bullets fly;
the people die
The children cry;
the leaders sigh
The blood flows;
the wind blows
The pain grows;
the joke shows;
It’s pretty bad,
it’s pretty sad
How far he’ll go
to try please Dad.

February 21, 2001

“Fuck,” I muttered as I opened my eyes, furious that I had woken at all. I didn’t want to wake up. I was over it. An aggressive, unforgiving, bright morning light was the last thing I felt like. There’s that moment just before your mind kicks into gear that you’re still oblivious to everything that plagued your mind before you went to sleep the night before. There’s that moment of peace. It’s very fleeting — a couple of seconds before the reality of what being awake represents collides into your consciousness, and you are properly awake. There’s no point in trying to go back to sleep once this happens because the mind has already kicked into gear and all you can do is try to mitigate the panic, dread, and racing.

Nothing in Moderation is Clinton Fein’s first book scheduled for release in 2023.