Friday, September 30, 2005

Generational Tale

When I took over
my Father's bakery,
old hands turned

iron. And bread
takes art. Much

staled, product
brandished like
a club presently.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

The Contest, Sort Of

I like the modern sort of melodrama where someone gives his soul alway to some black-hearted prick of global industry.

Ah hah, but another resists and we love that person! Who'll triumph after suitable cinematographic trials. Such outcome promises
a degree of redemption even for the cowardly. Or at the least a reduction of pressure when the spitting Captain of Industry
is led off in handcuffs.

All of it like professional wrestling, with a villain clearly defined opposite Purity.

Trouble is we normally give half our soul away under the influence of those like us.

In a plotless series of uneventful scenes.

Where we learn to be grown-up, and realistic. Avoiding such pronouncements such as Life is shit! Asking rather, Now what we
can work out here.?

Experience will show, too, that chiding the passionate aids success. Prior to running them over.

Actually, we simply have others to break in. This is called responsibility.

Okay, not much of a film, but the actors try, half-sick at heart.

A few colleagues avoid most everything by anaesthetizing, and you count them happy.

In the lovely aromas of summer while kids or grandkids play in the woods, they're alone with ever distant sounds of life.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005


Gas protests block roads in Europe. None here.

Diverse folks march against the war. And that's something!

But why are most Americans so docile? A dictator's dream-mass?

I asked my high-minded idol, Professor N.

"It's the continuous fucking by the rich and their slimy Washington courtiers.
No time to breathe, gaze into the middle distance, be sad, and, finally, think."

Revolution? Blood in the street? Takeover of the capital by junior officers?
Congress told to go home and steal there?

"All overdue."

I don't think I have the courage or energy to...

"No matter. It's inexorable."

An FDR will materialize, save his class by saving others!

"FDR types will be arrested. Any American can be detained indefinitely and not even charged.
Our Bill of Rights is the joke of the world. "

Wow! Could get scary for the rich.

"Their Praetorian Guard will steal away one by one, and they'll be murdered. Bet the house."

"What's your advice to them now?

"Join your companies in Bermuda. Form organizations there with other traitors."

Tuesday, September 27, 2005


And since I worked hard on both campaigns, and haven't come forth till now...?

The president appreciates it. I've even heard him speak of you.

You have? What'd...?

Let it slide. Mostly good. Anyway, we got a berth in Agriculture.


You'll be Corn Man. Know anything about corn?

I've eaten it.

Close enough.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Feet of Love Dialog

Well, takes a bit of coordination, but the action is simplicity itself. The only problem is logistical, getting the stuff to warehouses, then distributed for a good price. It's still Capitalism, Baby!

Okay, say I buy mine. What's next? And, excuse me, but as a male I don't think I'd feel comfortable wearing the damn things.

That's a parenthetical. Not germane--always a problem when you talk to poor or overeducated persons. Let's cut to the core. Of action! Put these on. Just a loaner.



As I predicted, no.

Never mind. Here's the first proposition: We're bringing democracy to Iraq. Now jump up and click those ruby red slippers together! Show you believe in the magic!

Like this?

Great job! Number two...

That sounds right.

Tax cuts for the rich spells magnificence for the rest of us. Magnificence! Jump! Click! Become pretty and flashing! And magnificent!

All right! Wow! Much higher this time. I'm putting too much into this, though I like the clicking sound..

Lazy! Work!

I'm already tiring, but mostly feel like a fool. Is there an end of it?

We hold many propositions, all self-evidentially true. Among these are...but I'm stopping here because some folks have died in tests. In a hoppin',
dancin' ruby-red frenzy.


Not the early ones. Those poor Bangladesh-ers didn't understand a word. And were they piss-poor dancers!--just no natural rhythm among muds.
At a dollar a day you'd think one or two jumpin 'jivers'd turn up. But give me back them slippers. Ain't Socialism yet, Shitbrain.

The lunatics run the asylum.

Point of view. It's all point of view! If we get the bucks you can say anything you want. Impotence never fucked Mama.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Email For the Ear

Really really drag your feet on claims! "Have to check with my
boss etc." You know the drill. Like the car dealers fuck the rest of us?

Hey! It'd be unpatriotic to stand in the president's way, no? Wants to
rebuild the whole shithole.

Helping us by helping others made this country great!

In turn, we must do our bit.

So, we'll just keep cutting checks in various ways to the GOP. It's a form
of what we know best: insurance.

And an investment so brilliant it reaches a form of art.

Man are these spectacular times to live!

As a footnote, this conversation never occurred. You said nothing and
will think the same. Less people know, more our ad slogans work.

The latest warm and fuzzy-focus puppy-pee ones are bringing love. Love!
Do they still smear vasoline on the lens, or is it merely high tech manipulation now?

Anyway, Barnum was right, just got the timeframe wrong. One born ever SECOND!

Footnote two, see footnote one. That's a joke. You're allowed to laugh.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Email for the ear only

Really really drag your feet on claims! "Have to check with my
boss etc." You know the drill. Like the car dealers fuck the rest of us?

Hey! Be unpatriotic to stand in the president's way, no? Wants to
rebuild the whole shithole.

Helping us by helping them. Made this country great!

We'll just keep cutting checks to the RNC.
An investment so brilliant it reaches a form of art.

Man are these spectacular times to live!

Friday, September 23, 2005


Black ones in
New Orleans

stuffing plastic
bags with drek

not long ago
assembled by brown
and yellow fingers. So,

the true shame lingers.
Had only they'd been
patient! For whitest digits

can adjust the Trick-
le Down Device, cre-

ating such utopian news
that Fox and Clean Channel

might cease saluting
to report.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

A Republican Congressman Appreciates

Oh dustups & popoffs!
Usual political strife,
but nice dems on-

board. For a laugh
or to have

your ass

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

The Fifth Avenue Apartment

First, get me Old-Country cook.
I'm sick of eating crap
when I'm here.

No no no! Not a new broad! Call
the senator tell him send

the old one. She got fuckin
tricks even I ain't seen already,
you can bet your ass!

Like what? Mind your business!
Like Radio. She sits on your lap
and your antenna goes up. Assholes!

And yellow roses every day--try t'get
one fuckin thing right. The wife too.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

City of Misery

Gasping in the shame they call New Orleans.*
Living in shit you think that we deserve.
So we beg for water in the sun
to learn our place in the longer run.
And can only pray a kingfish swims somewhere.

Hello America how be you?
Don't you know us? We're your native blacks.
We're the rape they call the City of New Orleans
starvin' here by the slave port on the gulf of rigs.

Oh we'll slap our feets on the levee there,
the one what ain't got broken yet,
for the quarters that you please to throw,
praising our natch-rul rhythm in your report.
But only wish you be tossin' instead some food.

Buck up America it's just us
We're here to show you we're your simmerin' blacks,
and regret to tell you we're true citizens too.

Though the Fed ass-suckers fake,
haven't told us to eat cake.

Cuz the righties sneer that we's obese
while they dig into the stolen feast.
And they'll gouge us for the garbage when that time comes.

Fess up America and get sane.
We're here to tell you we're your poverty.
And we's tricked to thinkin' heaven is minimum wage
with God's an overseer who'll spare the lash
and spit defunct white words with a little cash.

So right now we're your ravenous drones
while the Queens in ole DC throw back champagne
and the Kings board private jets to get away.

Strugglin' in the lake that is New Orleans
and lots of us is drownin' for the GOP,
but don't miss your tee time or your church
as the old among us puke and lurch
'mongst trash you sold us for your usury dream.

While the infant's diaper fills with political words
and bloated bodies float by turds,
it's all a corporate paradise reversed.

Preachers hawking chapter-verse
that holds them in their own vise of disgrace.

Hi there America what's shakin'?
Will the promises someday come a-tricklin' down?
Cuz it's a total bitch everything goin' to Mr Rich
and a prescription for blood to clog our streets.

Yeah the young ones gotta fix their minds
to die here in the war of class
or kill the babies in Iraq.
That's the choice of those who wanna please The Man.

Hello America how goes it? We're forced to tell you
we're your dogs.
*based on the song The City of New Orleans
by Steve Goodman

Monday, September 19, 2005

Classic American Fable

Tony happily bang-
ing out hex nuts in

a department celebrating
birthdays with cakes
& kidding. New bosses

send his job to Asian
slaves, & beg him not

to fret in his overt Eye-
talian way! When the entire
economy inevitably explodes,

he'll have a tremendous-
ly better job! It does, after

a raw year or so, he gets
to dress in suit & tie
for less money. Along with

this illusion, morphs
into Republican, giv-
en to chance statements

like "Those people down
there don't wanna work!"

Anyone critical gets invited
to live in France, where they
savor multitudinous cheeses,

but won't eat shit.

Sunday, September 18, 2005


All the same,
turn it over
to these new

Polacks & just
guard the oil.

Let them kill
each other, win-

ner take all
heroic names.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Under God

We owe Ike for that rhythm-tripper and parenthetical bump. He knew about halting speech.

Unconstitutional? In any non-political reading. But...not where the Supremes live.

My compromise: Under Gods. The plural will encompass

1-Mammon, to respect the actual corporate state running things, aka Wondrous Grease

2-Allah, for Saudis who flew back some few month after 9-11, and will
be thus inspired to apply for dual citizenship.

3-Atheists, who can proclaim their god is no god. Okay, bit of a linguistic contortion.

For examples of prior somersaults, see Bush v Gore.

4-Christians, marching off to K Streeet. Also, note Attorney General's monograph "Torture,
Duty and Delight."

Meanwhile ponder Liberty and Justice for All in the Pledge.

Then, gather up the ass you laughed off.

"Unfair!" rolls the scream over the level court. "Everybody can play!"

How many dwarfs make the Lakers?

Friday, September 16, 2005


Southern Accent So Thick

Spoon'd stick straight up in it.
Another racist Republican, think I,

in lockstep w/the more Neanderthal a-
gendas of the Fascists. Thus, phoning
in approved script over CSPAN. Wrong!

Hearing that accent with Left Fire. Wow!
The South will rise again, Baby. Yeah!


Southern Accent So Thick

Spoon'd stick straight up in it.
Another racist Republican, think I,

in lockstep w/the more Neanderthal a-
gendas of the Fascists. Thus, phoning
in approved script over CSPAN. Wrong!

Hearing that accent with Left Fire. Wow!
The South will rise again, Baby. Yeah!

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Winter 05-6 Free To Freeze

OLD MAN But the houses by the country club are getting

POL Hey, they're awfully big. Takes a lot of fuel.

OLD MAN And we're left with nothing!

POL Let me assure you that you're on the list. That's
why I'm here.

OLD MAN I think the lady next door is long dead. Her cat meowed
all last night.

POL Didn't smell anything in the hall.

OLD MAN She'd harden up too fast for that.

POL Hell, you look like you're in your eighties. Ever
think that maybe it's maybe your time too? Good Christ
it's cold in here! I can't stay! How can you stand it?

OLD MAN Please! Can't you do something for me? I'm beg...

POL I'll tell you what. Whip out your wizened dick and
I'll light a match under it. And don't forget to vote
Republican if you get through this.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Well, First a Bit of Force

For when in Christ
they dwell, en-

powered by Faith,
and secure in joy-

ous Good News,
they will thank
God and us, be-

coming soldier-
models to keep us

at our task, where-
in we jettison lying

"tolerance," living
in His Eyes as

The True Christian
Nation He intends.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

One Minute of the Hearing

Leahy lectures Roberts on the Constitution. Sounds like yelling.

Roberts looks like trying to pass a hard stool.

Seriously, what a long time to sit, at 50 the prostate strangling.

Patience! his ideologues inhale.

--Cue sucking sound--

I'm against him because he slights the constituencies where I have friends. Women and gays and plants and animals.

Plus he'll find the judicious philosophy to pump the dangerously distended blimp of privilege. The massive shadow over the American landscape.

(I'm pretty sure it's time that the nation started all over.)

And boy oh boy oh boy did he polish up the handle of the big brass door! Whew! And polishing, he listened. So carefully.

And now he's poised to close the circle on the dictatorship, having like so many, Uriah Heaped his way. Fulfilling the original intent of the
country club porch.

--Cut to sound and fury, shlock and awe. The mall--

Looks like a revival meeting as many Democrats roll over and play dead, the corporate Holy Ghost having descended.

--Cue "Let's All Gather by the Treasury"--
(earmarked in your hymnal)

I'm using roll over etc as a figure of speech. I've never seen a Democrat literally do it.

GE, as an example, could tempt with a biscuit large enough, and the trick could be performed in a small TV studio, say.

I'm not asking for humiliation on any large scale. Only that the literal catch up to the figurative.

With Roberts, the opposite process.

--Bring up Chorus, big--

"Your Mother would want you to say something nice!"

Okay, Roberts is able at a time when most of the Executive Department of this country couldn't make it through the 7-11 Training Program.

(Let's not take this easy snideness too far. George Bush would have become a personable manager indeed. You'd look forward to seeing him as you caffeined up of a snappy morning.)

Ah what the hell. I'm practicing my Heil. Fake it when they come with their clean court order.

Only a citizen, they can lock me up and throw away the key right now. The Fascists don't even need Roberts up on the perch for that.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Minstrel Show

Bunch stole milk truck, fled
anarchy & deluge in New Orleans.

Halted by good ole boys enforcin'
true law at gunpoint, put down on

their bellies and terrorized just
a bit. Hey for CRI-sakes! Let folks

have a little fun with
comic negros, poke

a rifle up one old ass & ask
"So what's your story, Uncle?"

But fetch respectable ones
to step up & hug
the president.

& make damn sure you crowd
plenty coy black ministers

into that picture, group
hereinafter called


Mr Bones? How'd we
deliver the nation
into the hands of such shits?

"Don't bother me w'that jive!
Ize jus' tryin'

t'keep m'head above
de water & gots more
t'worry 'bout den dat. Like

from out de corn field a mighty voice!
Sayin' our friend Renquist's gone!"

Who chased us from the polls?

"Dats before he put on de robe.
You don' hafta use your feets no more."

Just as good.

"O where be dem golden chevrons now?"

In heaven, Mr Bones?

"Yeah, de Republican one."

You heading for the Democratic?

"I don' want neither!"

Then you'll be without none, fool!

"Hell better than lies."

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