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INCIDENT No.48: John Jackson





Whimsical metal sculptor, humor therapist, recycler, prophet (mostly non-profit), political satirist, cello torturer, and haiku dabbler,  John Jackson has been creating sculptures for over 35 years.  His sculpture palette consists mainly of bike and motorcycle parts, distressed musical instruments, old tools, and gleanings from flea markets.  Favorite themes are musicians, masks, critters, and banksters behind bars. As frosting on the sculpture cake, Jackson often composes haiku that the work has inspired.  His pieces appeal to the young and the young-at-heart, adding levity to a world run amok.   If his sculptures don't make you laugh out loud or at least crack a smile, you are probably in need of serious counseling.

POB 205  Jefferson, NY 12093

Banksters! Banksters!  everywhere!!
They're in your pocket!  They're in your hair!
They'll steal your house!  They'll steal your car!--
Where are the feathers?  Where is the tar??

Sporting suits and ties
Instead of red bandanas--
Banksters! Banksters! rob us blind,
Then sell us some bananas.

They cheat and lie and swindle;
They just don't give a damn;
They sit on tons of bailout money
Just because they can.

They use our money in their banks
As if they were casinos--
They bet the bank and speculate
We won't pop 'em on their beanos.

They hired ro-bo signers
Because they were much cheaper;
If no one reads the documents,
Their profits would be steeper.

All our jobs now overseas;
Banks as rich as Croesus--
If government wasn't owned by them,
It would kick them on their asses.


They will not write-down mortgages--
That's not the way they work;
Their profits would diminish...
Was that a smile?  No, a smirk.

If your job is gone for good,
Your mortgage you can't pay...
Banksters! Banksters! say do not fret;
We'll teach you how to pray.

Now if your home's a shopping cart,
At least it has four wheels;
Without a job you've lots of time
To look for the best deals.

It's really easy and much fun
To figure out surviving;
There's lots of stuff on garbage day,
And always dumpster diving.

Banksters! Banksters! hate it when
I call them Banksters! Banksters!
So let me compromise my tone
And just say Gangster Banksters.

Some rob you with a baseball bat;
Some rob you with a gun;
Banksters! Banksters! use their ball-point pens
And think it's kind of fun.


They cut up sub-prime mortgages
And made them look delicious---
Then sold them short and made gazillions;
Is that not seditious?

When their house of cards came tumbling down,
They brought an empty pail,
And said just fill it up with cash,
Cuz we're too big to fail.

Ha-ha!  They joked and snorted!
We're too big to fail!!
So fill the bucket up with cash;
The process is blackmail.

Oh my God!  Oh woe is me!
Please give me some perspective
To help me cope and soldier on--
Some heavenly directive.

Banksters! Banksters! everywhere!
They're in your pocket!  They're in your hair!
They'll steal your house!  They'll steal your car!--
Where are the feathers?  Where is the tar?