Saturday, December 31, 2011
Conservatives Want Their America Back
So return with us to those
thrilling days of yesteryear
wherein the slave’s back gets
opened for instruction.
Melodramatically rare, let’s admit.
More likely his luck holds with just
the occasional lash for comedy.
Labels: Conservative, Slavery
Friday, December 30, 2011
The Greeting
The first time
you said the usual
hello and they swept back
"Your Majesty!" you glimpsed your life as
misery thereafter, since those who lick can bite.
Labels: courtier, position, Royalty
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Testimony
-I was a knee-jerk Liberal until I met a decent Republican.
He explained things very patiently. Changed my life
in that instant!
-And did a chorus of angels sing a mighty chord?
-Unfortunately, they wanted union scale.
-I was a knee-jerk Liberal until I met a decent Republican.
He explained things very patiently. Changed my life
in that instant!
-And did a chorus of angels sing a mighty chord?
-Unfortunately, they wanted union scale.
Labels: Conservative, liberal, Republican, Union
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
The Result
His silver spoon
bought him Congress
alongside friends who
helped him, and them-
selves, many fold. And
in golden continuum.
Not to mind as a les-
ser constituent, for
Rapunzel will eventually
lower her glory it's pledged.
In the raw modern version
she enjoys hate radio in
her tower, hair coiled
to a sun-bright bun.
Labels: wealthy Congress
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
A Small Dinner
The candidate sent back the chicken. Which led to jokes.
Lobbyist finally saying it was donated by his opponent.
Another pointed out the happy news that no women
were present.
“No,” laughed Senator ______, “that'd be cruel and unusual punishment!” He shifted to a story where uppity blacks get
put in their place by a comic ruse.
The pollster warned to go easy on the blacks, “a block or two
mysteriously leaning our way. But women are always fair game–why they tell the same jokes of their own voracious sexuality!”
“That’s cuz they know each other so well!” offered the Senator.
The parson stayed sober enough to give the closing prayer,
the rest trying not to fart during its intoning.
Labels: political dinner
Monday, December 26, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
A Christmas Song
Actually smelled
chestnuts roasting
in New Haven. Drink-
ing club, ad hoc,
peripatetic. After
evening’s circuit, hit
the funky street.
Hot dog truck:
spice rockets on
soggy rolls with
incendiary mustard.
Aforementioned
chestnut roaster,
their blackening, be-
fore splitting on
a charcoal bed.
Our favorite, raw
clam man, opening
quick dozen under
open gas lamp, dousing
with chili and Mulligan--
stale beer with red pepper.
One upended the shell and
each slid down maw, leaving
sea flats and grains of sand.
This a whacked version of Where
are the snows of yesteryear?
Yeah, but substitute stomachs.
Actually smelled
chestnuts roasting
in New Haven. Drink-
ing club, ad hoc,
peripatetic. After
evening’s circuit, hit
the funky street.
Hot dog truck:
spice rockets on
soggy rolls with
incendiary mustard.
Aforementioned
chestnut roaster,
their blackening, be-
fore splitting on
a charcoal bed.
Our favorite, raw
clam man, opening
quick dozen under
open gas lamp, dousing
with chili and Mulligan--
stale beer with red pepper.
One upended the shell and
each slid down maw, leaving
sea flats and grains of sand.
This a whacked version of Where
are the snows of yesteryear?
Yeah, but substitute stomachs.
Labels: alcohol, Christmas, youth
Saturday, December 24, 2011
The Woman Who Never Knew What She Wanted
A succession of boyfriends and husbands tried,
as did girlfriends, near and cool. The psychiatric
gang acquired Audis from her talking. If
St Peter gives options, she’s doomed.
Labels: Woman
Friday, December 23, 2011
On Florida's Paranoia Trial
President's Birth Certificate lodges hard within certain brains.
Nirvana won't be reached, however, until designated
Winn Dixie and Publix cashiers accept gold.
Labels: birth certificate, gold.Florida, paranoia
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Yahoo News tells me I
missed a deadly infection
by not buying something
desired, but aimlessly
forgot. How often saved
by fucking up? This
question not admitted
to Horatio Alger sites.
For it’s not time and chance, but
a fanaticism for free markets. Free,
that is, to those screwing you blind.
Labels: "Free" Market, Horatio Alger
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Freedom, Right
God-given! You strike
the anvil that yields
talking points. Thus
the joy of freedom
that never gets old
doing what it's told.
God-given! You strike
the anvil that yields
talking points. Thus
the joy of freedom
that never gets old
doing what it's told.
Labels: freedom, party line, talking points
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Barricades
When I joined the Republicans
on the barricades
a catered affair: lovely petits fours,
exotic teas and patriotic lattes. Furniture
mogul brought in non-union recliners. Under
later bombardment, speeches
became difficult to decipher,
though we knew of freedom
as text and subtext together.
When I joined the Democrats,
had lost their keys again, frenzied
air with everybody searching.
When I joined the Republicans
on the barricades
a catered affair: lovely petits fours,
exotic teas and patriotic lattes. Furniture
mogul brought in non-union recliners. Under
later bombardment, speeches
became difficult to decipher,
though we knew of freedom
as text and subtext together.
When I joined the Democrats,
had lost their keys again, frenzied
air with everybody searching.
Labels: ;Republican, Democrat
Monday, December 19, 2011
Primer
“So, Estelle has her own ideas.”
Charlie said, “Have ’em all she wants, just don't act on ‘em.”
His sister Loretta chimed in. "She gets that from the college."
“Well...”--thinking I was ending it--“her business who she
goes out with.”
“Is...and isn't,” Charlie hissed.
“Well, nothing we can do about it,” I added.
Loretta played with a matchbook and then looked up.
"May be something."
We all laughed.
After a bit, Charlie, a really good cartoonist, started working
something up to send her.
“So, Estelle has her own ideas.”
Charlie said, “Have ’em all she wants, just don't act on ‘em.”
His sister Loretta chimed in. "She gets that from the college."
“Well...”--thinking I was ending it--“her business who she
goes out with.”
“Is...and isn't,” Charlie hissed.
“Well, nothing we can do about it,” I added.
Loretta played with a matchbook and then looked up.
"May be something."
We all laughed.
After a bit, Charlie, a really good cartoonist, started working
something up to send her.
Labels: Race
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Presences
See you in my dreams
Irene told, and others.
We wake to move
furniture around
our mind. Fresh
arrangements fix
or cover.
Stay dreaming and
meet the others?
No, they’ll hold.
Much marking time
in our dreams
awaiting us.
Labels: dream
Saturday, December 17, 2011
A Virtual Wichita
When Missy was seven her father took a foreman's job at Cessna in Wichita. They lived temporarily in Delsen's Boarding House where she had to perform being a good little girl at the dining room table with Miss Carruthers, retired
elementary teacher, Jingo Reilly, traveling construction boss, and others.
The neighborhood featured Merkin's Homemade Candies, and Mrs Merkin would cut you a sliver of rich fudge as a gift.
Missy avoided the shop when she saw Mr Merkin behind the counter for he was not quite as generous, insisting you pay
a penny for the principle of the thing.
Missy certainly had a penny but felt uneasy near
Mr Merkin’s sermons.
Her most lasting impression of the boarding house came
late at night with Chuck Greeson from the Chrysler agency,
and Lowery's Last Stop, trudging up the stairs cursing, bumbling into chairs, eventually dropping his heavy shoes
on the floor, one after the other.
One hot evening, only one dropped. She and older sister
Lil whispered of the absent other shoe.
It proved the last night there as her parents had rented
an apartment near the plant.
When she tells the story to new boyfriend she calls
Silicon Maxy-Mac, he informs her she must get that
second shoe to drop, that such incompleteness has
made bad karma since.
He therefore devises a virtual Wichita. For the shoe he synthesizes several catalog sounds, but they will not do.
He then fills a sneaker with coins, stuffs newspaper in
to keep them from shifting.
Buys the best fudge in Sunnyvale.
His research reveals Prairie Dog Philosopher led
nighttime radio ratings. So he records a corny poem
about looking a man in his face and seeing your own
if both are honest. Then a raucous Jerry Lee Lewis!
Comes the critical night he gets Missy to relax and
close her eyes, hand feeds her crumbles of fudge
while playing the radio segment at low volume and
in buzzy offstage mode. He then shoves chairs around
and, after about ten beats, mounts a table and drops
the weighted sneaker.
Next morning, Missy decides to run. Been developing
a small pot.
After, sweaty and panting, she cruises the kitchen
looking for something healthy for breakfast.
Her sister texts her from Wichita: sad! cndyldy x-(
omg u luvd hr!
When Missy was seven her father took a foreman's job at Cessna in Wichita. They lived temporarily in Delsen's Boarding House where she had to perform being a good little girl at the dining room table with Miss Carruthers, retired
elementary teacher, Jingo Reilly, traveling construction boss, and others.
The neighborhood featured Merkin's Homemade Candies, and Mrs Merkin would cut you a sliver of rich fudge as a gift.
Missy avoided the shop when she saw Mr Merkin behind the counter for he was not quite as generous, insisting you pay
a penny for the principle of the thing.
Missy certainly had a penny but felt uneasy near
Mr Merkin’s sermons.
Her most lasting impression of the boarding house came
late at night with Chuck Greeson from the Chrysler agency,
and Lowery's Last Stop, trudging up the stairs cursing, bumbling into chairs, eventually dropping his heavy shoes
on the floor, one after the other.
One hot evening, only one dropped. She and older sister
Lil whispered of the absent other shoe.
It proved the last night there as her parents had rented
an apartment near the plant.
When she tells the story to new boyfriend she calls
Silicon Maxy-Mac, he informs her she must get that
second shoe to drop, that such incompleteness has
made bad karma since.
He therefore devises a virtual Wichita. For the shoe he synthesizes several catalog sounds, but they will not do.
He then fills a sneaker with coins, stuffs newspaper in
to keep them from shifting.
Buys the best fudge in Sunnyvale.
His research reveals Prairie Dog Philosopher led
nighttime radio ratings. So he records a corny poem
about looking a man in his face and seeing your own
if both are honest. Then a raucous Jerry Lee Lewis!
Comes the critical night he gets Missy to relax and
close her eyes, hand feeds her crumbles of fudge
while playing the radio segment at low volume and
in buzzy offstage mode. He then shoves chairs around
and, after about ten beats, mounts a table and drops
the weighted sneaker.
Next morning, Missy decides to run. Been developing
a small pot.
After, sweaty and panting, she cruises the kitchen
looking for something healthy for breakfast.
Her sister texts her from Wichita: sad! cndyldy x-(
omg u luvd hr!
Labels: karma, Silicon Valley, Wichita
Friday, December 16, 2011
Examples of Language
“Now what do you suppose this is all about?”
Mac's trademark sarcasm.
“Allow me to give you the summary,” offered
Lt Rautinberg, shooting him through the heart.
Then waving the Glock. “Look! The proverbial smoking gun!”
Homicidal Wit got its own webpage thereafter.
Labels: future, language, summary execution
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Universal Questions
Statesmen abhor
the driving subtext
of Occupiers. Where
is Justice?
Their answer,
a question less
abstract: How much
can you afford?
Statesmen abhor
the driving subtext
of Occupiers. Where
is Justice?
Their answer,
a question less
abstract: How much
can you afford?
Labels: Occupy Movement
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Why Should Women Agree? Nobody else does.
One school, explicit-
ly biblical at
the very least
has her keep-
ing self & children
hygienic. Even frig
& husband in order.
Thus does he rule
& she rate even
less. So, true felicity
knows scripture & place.
One school, explicit-
ly biblical at
the very least
has her keep-
ing self & children
hygienic. Even frig
& husband in order.
Thus does he rule
& she rate even
less. So, true felicity
knows scripture & place.
Labels: biblical, Christian, scripture, women
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Pillow Talk
-It's always good, that speech. Caught it on CSPAN.
-I'm a little tired of it.
-Then why not give another?
-It must pass under dozens of eyes beforehand. As you know
from your boss.
-Politics is tiresome. Worst the higher you go.
-You got that right. But I come here to forget it.
-That's nigh impossible for both of us.
-Well, just let's keep our little secret.
-I hope so...but your wife gave me that look. Some conference or other. I just dropped in.
-What do you mean, that look?
-Indescribable to males.
-You're just getting a little paranoid. She showed no sign when I gave her watch charges by light. No battery.
-Lovely! So, expect the same for my birthday?
-The strategy works. If I gave both of you different things,
I could get tripped up with her. Asking if she still liked something I really gave you.
-Not necessary anymore. She knows--I’m open to all
kinds of variety!
-Not a thing. Show me the look. Show it to me!
-No use. Too subtle for your sex. Especially a brain
factory like you.
-Nobody dumber mid the ladies.
-I'm training you.
-I suppose so is she. I'll be a total pansy before it's over.
-Now that’s just not possible! Besides...it's never over.
-Christ! Where are the mistresses without the PhDs?
-Yearning for what I got.
-Flattery will get you everywhere.
-What I’m hoping.
-It's always good, that speech. Caught it on CSPAN.
-I'm a little tired of it.
-Then why not give another?
-It must pass under dozens of eyes beforehand. As you know
from your boss.
-Politics is tiresome. Worst the higher you go.
-You got that right. But I come here to forget it.
-That's nigh impossible for both of us.
-Well, just let's keep our little secret.
-I hope so...but your wife gave me that look. Some conference or other. I just dropped in.
-What do you mean, that look?
-Indescribable to males.
-You're just getting a little paranoid. She showed no sign when I gave her watch charges by light. No battery.
-Lovely! So, expect the same for my birthday?
-The strategy works. If I gave both of you different things,
I could get tripped up with her. Asking if she still liked something I really gave you.
-Not necessary anymore. She knows--I’m open to all
kinds of variety!
-Not a thing. Show me the look. Show it to me!
-No use. Too subtle for your sex. Especially a brain
factory like you.
-Nobody dumber mid the ladies.
-I'm training you.
-I suppose so is she. I'll be a total pansy before it's over.
-Now that’s just not possible! Besides...it's never over.
-Christ! Where are the mistresses without the PhDs?
-Yearning for what I got.
-Flattery will get you everywhere.
-What I’m hoping.
Labels: mistress, pillow talk, politics, sex
Monday, December 12, 2011
South Carolina
-Well, some think the party getting TOO conservative.
We used to have moderates. Big Tent!
-Fuck all RINOS up their accommodating ass!
-But why give their votes away?
-We don’t want ‘em. Tainted.
-And...I can actually remember a liberal Republican!
Jacob Javits of New York.
-Jewboys don’t count.
-Well, some think the party getting TOO conservative.
We used to have moderates. Big Tent!
-Fuck all RINOS up their accommodating ass!
-But why give their votes away?
-We don’t want ‘em. Tainted.
-And...I can actually remember a liberal Republican!
Jacob Javits of New York.
-Jewboys don’t count.
Labels: Liberal Republican, Moderate Republican, RINO, South Carolina
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Association
One stuck-up old woman complained to the Association.
Teens were pissing on her daffodils and throwing rocks
at her mailbox. Of course it took a while to get this.
Hadda translate: Untoward juvenile behavior involving
even urination. And like that.
When she left, I asked a retired guy who helps out a few hours a week.
"What she's saying is that she remembers language when it wasn’t the shit it is today!" he snapped.
So, he's one too.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Fool to the Church
He read the letter as he dawdled outside Dr Abernathy's office.
"The old aristocratic saw was that the family sent its fool
to the Church. God help us but that's you. More to the point,
it's your absolute last chance. At least on my dime.
Drs Abernatathy and Swilp inform me that you're earnest,
and the finer theological points will come."
Once admitted by secretary “Icy” Eva, he felt reassured, for Abernathy smiled under massive eyebrows of snow. "That last moment of your sketch for the all-college diner? Your lisping What a meff, Iztopholez!" Wife and I still chuckling.
"Nothing offensive anywhere, I hope."
"Put your mind at rest. Even divines laugh and can
take a joke. What I really wanted to ask you...well to recommend something I could read...lend a little wit
to my sermons. Which are dull, I'm afraid.
And expected to be so." He frowned. Whitely.
"Couldn’t go wrong with Shakespeare for starters.”
“Ah yes! An hour a day. Lovely set in the rectory. Thank you.”
Later, skipping down a fertile lane, he told a mockingbird. “Send the fool to the church, by God! Then swooping from side to side of the pebbly surface, he imitated an airplane: “On his dime! On his freakin dime! If you got the freakin time, Shadrack, I got the dirty money. Check! Contact!
Now then, shall we bomb the Japanese?” The mockingbird
lost itself in a throaty staccato followed by majestic trills. “Those paper houses. Whoosh!”
He sat on a sun-baked rock. “Mr M-bird, no more
beautiful day ever! Ever!” Loam and roses carried on the breeze. The oaks stirred overhead. “It couldn't possibly be surpassed! Never!”
Now the girl from the inn made her quick way, skirt
swinging dapples.
"UnLESS...!"
He read the letter as he dawdled outside Dr Abernathy's office.
"The old aristocratic saw was that the family sent its fool
to the Church. God help us but that's you. More to the point,
it's your absolute last chance. At least on my dime.
Drs Abernatathy and Swilp inform me that you're earnest,
and the finer theological points will come."
Once admitted by secretary “Icy” Eva, he felt reassured, for Abernathy smiled under massive eyebrows of snow. "That last moment of your sketch for the all-college diner? Your lisping What a meff, Iztopholez!" Wife and I still chuckling.
"Nothing offensive anywhere, I hope."
"Put your mind at rest. Even divines laugh and can
take a joke. What I really wanted to ask you...well to recommend something I could read...lend a little wit
to my sermons. Which are dull, I'm afraid.
And expected to be so." He frowned. Whitely.
"Couldn’t go wrong with Shakespeare for starters.”
“Ah yes! An hour a day. Lovely set in the rectory. Thank you.”
Later, skipping down a fertile lane, he told a mockingbird. “Send the fool to the church, by God! Then swooping from side to side of the pebbly surface, he imitated an airplane: “On his dime! On his freakin dime! If you got the freakin time, Shadrack, I got the dirty money. Check! Contact!
Now then, shall we bomb the Japanese?” The mockingbird
lost itself in a throaty staccato followed by majestic trills. “Those paper houses. Whoosh!”
He sat on a sun-baked rock. “Mr M-bird, no more
beautiful day ever! Ever!” Loam and roses carried on the breeze. The oaks stirred overhead. “It couldn't possibly be surpassed! Never!”
Now the girl from the inn made her quick way, skirt
swinging dapples.
"UnLESS...!"
Labels: Fool to Church, seminary, theology
Friday, December 09, 2011
Supreme Majority
Not Conservative.
(Why strip the word
of honor?)
Rather concert for
wealth and power.
Not Conservative.
(Why strip the word
of honor?)
Rather concert for
wealth and power.
Labels: Conservative, Supreme Court
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Rocco and Pickles the Prophet
PICKLES
These occupy movements are preface to revolution.
Will it be bloody?
ROCCO
Inevitable, given Republican thick-heatedness! But...how do you know it won’t come from the Right?
PICKLES
They got nothing to sell. You still need something to sell. Force, itself, is never enough.
ROCCO
Freedom!–that’s their trump card.
PICKLES
Yeah, the freedom to be exploited. Some freedom!
ROCCO
Must you always uncover the subtext?
PICKLES
All you got in America.
ROCCO
I seem to remember some actual texts: Bill of Rights, Constitution.
PICKLES
Apply to rich. Everybody else shafted by greasy semantics
as practiced by Supreme Court. Bought and sold like everything else.
ROCCO
Sounds awful. Is. Can we start over?
PICKLES
That’s the idea.
In R’s world, no idea off table. No, really.
Labels: revolutionRocco
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Rocco and Special-Hate Jimmy
Over egg and pepper sandwiches at Celebre’s
JIMMY
I must be slipping. Saw a Republican on CSPAN I didn't immediately despise.
ROCCO
You are, Special-Hate! Won’t be long before you say: “You know, some of their ideas are not entirely idiotic.”
JIMMY
Don't hold your breath.
ROCCO
And--witness!--coming to the fore now, a Gingrich.
JIMMY
That sofa with eyes? He's as full of shit as a Christmas turkey.
ROCCO
Now now, patience! He can lose that stuffing, you know.
Anyway, what a generator of concepts! One a second!
A person gets quite dizzy.
JIMMY
Feather merchant. Carries a huge bag weighing about nothing.
ROCCO
My mother said if you can't say something nice, then ...
JIMMY
Okay okay! He's more personable than the usual insider thief.
ROCCO
That fills my Mom's prescription.
JIMMY
No mine. She was an Italian anarchist, incendiary follower of Enrico Arrigoni . Dad played bocce to get away.
ROCCO
Old school. We got iphones now.
JIMMY
So what? More things change.... Anyway, I'm better off talking directly, even to an imbecile like you.
ROCCO
Nicest thing you ever said to me!
JIMMY
I'm softening all right. There’s no longer a doubt.
ROCCO
Time to die?
JIMMY
Just about. Or walking around dead and not knowing it, like half the world.
All the isms exist in S Philly, even anarchism.
Labels: anarchism, Republican, Rocco, South Philadelphia
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
CALL-IN SHOW IN A TRUER UNIVERSE
Q Sixty, Florida, Graduate Degree, unemployed for 2 years. What...?
A You’re too fuckin old. Find a posh golf course and caddy there. Most fatasses employing you will try to steer you right of Genghis Khan, but ignore it.
If a good player, tell him he's the best you've seen.
If wretched, praise his intuitive feel for the game.
Labels: golf, unemployment
Monday, December 05, 2011
Wanderers
range their ways
celestial. Thought
significant. I bought
a Mayan calendar, hardware
store, Malvern PA. Like
the one the bank hands out,
it's not perpetual. What
or who lines up is Miss
Americans at altitude:
a hill of boobs.
range their ways
celestial. Thought
significant. I bought
a Mayan calendar, hardware
store, Malvern PA. Like
the one the bank hands out,
it's not perpetual. What
or who lines up is Miss
Americans at altitude:
a hill of boobs.
Labels: Mayan Calendar
Sunday, December 04, 2011
Mr Squirty’s Demise
When_________DDS installed a new Mitchell-Belson he was taken by its beauty. Utility? What didn't it do?
The dentist leading the company seminar, dean all the way from Stanford admonished: “And given the tech firms
moving into your area, belay the babytalk! Squirt-Buddy
and the like! Explain the device to these engineers and point out its features. And, of course, how elegant it is!"
So, that meant no more Mr Squirty. Even to children, he
went over the Mitchell-Belson-–though more slowly.
As did his hygienists.
After not too long the appointment program was crammed, plus a waiting list...tech patients enthralled.
He took on another dentist, pediatric woman disillusioned
by paperwork and incompetent help at her own solo practice.
"Now no Mr Squirty!" he cautioned her first day.
Labels: babytalk, dentist, engineer, tech
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Near the Hills Where the Daffodils Grow
-He was your Red River Valley. The cowboy who
loved you so true!
-God yes! Oh my God yes!
-Well, we get over things. End of story! Fadeout, wipe, dissolve! Put it in the stupid can!
-No!
-Oh Christ you’re crying!
-Get out!
-I’ll...play Trivial Pursuit down at Jinky’s Sports Bar.
-Just...keep going.
Labels: old love
Friday, December 02, 2011
What the Big Guy Needs
1) Stay-at-home wife, sugary, quite pretty and witty in
non-threatening ways. As she runs parties etc.
The Ambassador and his wife love her! No exaggeration!
2) Mistress, much involved with hair and nails and him.
Talks celebrity nonsense easy to tune out.
3) Hybrid, tough businesswoman fighting alongside.
Sometimes falls grimly into bed with our hero--as if
shoving down a peculiar MBA problem for the nonce.
1) Stay-at-home wife, sugary, quite pretty and witty in
non-threatening ways. As she runs parties etc.
The Ambassador and his wife love her! No exaggeration!
2) Mistress, much involved with hair and nails and him.
Talks celebrity nonsense easy to tune out.
3) Hybrid, tough businesswoman fighting alongside.
Sometimes falls grimly into bed with our hero--as if
shoving down a peculiar MBA problem for the nonce.
Labels: business, mistress, power
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Capital Generosity
As a portion of instruction to
ungrateful poor, a benefactor
has established a sort of
scholarship to a truly down rout
of a country. Where you dig
a hole for shelter then
eat the dirt. The question directed at one
grateful recipient, once on the ground,
became "Can we worship you?"
“For my time here it is appropriate.
And appropriate I do the same
when I return to my...” Presently,
a chorus touted him with a bombproof
harmony: "THINE ALABASTER CITIES
GLEAM!" So, at any rate,
in his dun portion thereof,
he will hereafter bet-
ter know his place.
Labels: Capitalism, Charity, poverty
