Thursday, April 21, 2016
Stopping For Directions
-So, okay, he hiked the jungles of Panama
as a nineteen year old. Backpack and all!
-Pretty pictures of flowers in a notebook.
He still draws.
-What a freakin boy scout!
-You got something?
-Stopped in a whorehouse for directions.
-The girls fussed over such a naive blusher!
-So, over in a few minutes?
-Yes. In truth. But not, of course, in political fiction.
-Seems to be a slim horse to ride.
-We’ve ridden slimmer.
-We run Jenny against him?
-Perfect! Little Miss Hurt!
-She’ll cry at his treatment of women.
-And get some great digs in when she’s dry!
-Well, a whole campaign...?
-Yes and no. We’ll apologize three quarters
-Uh huh? And then allow the snide wisecracks
to surface again?
-Thus he loses the women?...been better
to fuck his brains out back then.
-No way! Don’t want him on our side!