Thursday, June 30, 2016


The Dying Man

tired of the etiquette
of Death.

Family huddled round
his bed,

and, a fractious bunch,
quarreled. At least
the males.

Hired a stand-in
over the internet,
competent old

who did the expiring
bit with some

The women who shushed
the angry men away
were emotionally

by this being who
had the verve and wit
the real passer lacked.
As Fate

would have it, actor croaked!
No living relatives, so
the primary leaving
man had

him buried as

Now in the interior room
of the wreck of
the house

how he
watches Jeopardy
in peace!

Panasonic painting
an oddly leer-
ing face.

Labels: , , , , , , ,

Wednesday, June 29, 2016


Legalistic Not a Good Look

Danley had tabbed her “piquant.”
The later Hortie, “one of Eddie Poe's
pale heroines.”

Both kind. Mostly. Deceased. Now she'd
try a bit of lipstick!

Some little color for the Board: likewise, kind.

Went well. Impressively. But, the old hurdle
again: TWO men.

The State had “proven” just one, she reminded.
And in an acknowledged weak case.

Couldn't, of course, stay with the piddling

Charm sincerely eased things, but not enough.

The warden brought the expected news later.
How kind of her!

Labels: , , , ,

Tuesday, June 28, 2016


Economics etc

Best to have one you mentored
give closing remarks at your
death or retirement.

Smithy could think of no one,
for those he had helped had fled,
and left no forwarding address.

He could find them on Linked-In,
but why? Feelings always a bit
distant...his personality mostly.

Oh well! Hire a professional!
Jocelyn was bright and chipper,
and, at the sparsely-attended
banquet, praised his guidance
for her present, solid career.

He had retired to an empty house.
His Beth finally departing to live
with her ill sister.

To help, ostensibly, but never
to return.

Did the same service have “wives”

Of course! In the Gig Economy, you
could hire everybody but yourself.

Riella was sent three days a week–-
a pliant and lovely individual to
clean and screw--the rest he bachelored it.

Then, one day, she was sent on special
assignment to France, and the service
dispatched Bert.

Who claimed to be more than competent
in all departments!

Smithy was doubtful and reticent, but
gave it a trial run. The men argued a lot,
but that was really a plus: feeling more alive.

A year later, Riella returned, exclaiming “Merde!”
but Bert stayed.

They left the temp company then.

The three are working things out.

She wrote and sang a French song, 

Ménage à Trois.

All very complicated, and French, but Smithy figures
that The American Way should probably involve his
returning to work.

And, could do better for his mates!

Labels: , , , , , , ,

Monday, June 27, 2016


Life In a Vulgar Proverb

With the totally great day finally here,
Malcolm doesn’t know whether to shit
or go blind.

On a sort of health kick, chooses former.

Has a frozen blueberry waffle then.

Hasn’t read the label carefully:
blueberries not real.

Finds out later. Careless!

A hungry mob now throngs the cold street,
ruining it for everyone! You can’t have
celebrations with them!

Clashing shouts and yells, and muffled
collisions. Soon followed by fist upon flesh.

Since the car charged, he decides to leave.
Doors and windows placed ajar so the
thin malcontents won’t smash in. Blindly.

Has recorded a message on a loop:
Blueberries artificial.

Labels: , , , ,

Sunday, June 26, 2016


He was a Rusky or Alien, or whatever he was

Had smashed his sort of smallish capsule thing,
but just into the outbuilding her deceased mother
had long ago stored 50s movie magazines in.

They mostly burnt up--no great loss. The garden hose
enough to put the rest, and him, out.

She’s strong, you know, and carried this smoky one to the
other outbuilding with all its wood, and equipment unused
since her daddy left this orbit.

That’s a joke! My husband says I can’t make 'em.

Anyway, by some miracle, his burns not that serious,
believe it or not, and she was nurse’s assistant before
the lumber mill left.

Since the one part of him amazed her, she wasn’t about
to let him go!

Before you say folks’d find out, and the government, well
Harkey’s Knob the absolute loneliest part of this county.

Of course you’d notice the new fellow around when
driving by, but we mind our own business.

After a couple years, he taught the Cedar Crest United
Bible Sunday School. Started using her father’s
woodworking shop too.

They married around in there, he’s Mr Thomas from Cincinnati.

Uh huh? If Cincinnati about a million light fears away!

Well, they did just fine anyways.

But...every ointment gets a fly. Hers was a tumor
like a bowling ball.

So, left us.

He didn’t miss a beat, marrying the bookkeeper
at the hospital.

She has persuaded him to leave his body to science,
though he says with a straight face that he’ll never die.

Good thing. In a hundred years or so, he’ll get to see
the furniture he makes, on Antique Road Show!

Labels: , , , , ,

Saturday, June 25, 2016


European Popular Music

He Liked His Easy Listening Channel

Except when they snuck in Eurotrash.

Third-rate from the lands of fifth-rate.
Where homeless immigrants piss on
the crumbling History remaining.

And in which the Poles masquerade as Poles,
Italians as Italians etc.

As they entertain with tinny renditions of
instantly defunct songs on an endless line
of grimy cruise ships.

And “Cafe’s” too.” So...very...quaint!

He can’t contain himself! with this final thought.

Labels: , , , , , , , , ,

Friday, June 24, 2016


The Free Market and God and Adam Smith!

The Respectable Firm

"Another Hopaloo Victory like that and we're outa

The Old Man always said that, his nurse whispering

They had returned from the hospice to administer
loyalty oaths concerning The Free Market and God
and Adam Smith!

"Don't need Uncle Sammy's Rule-Boys!"

If Mr Presser had bothered asking, he'd discover
that Hopaloos were a tribe of foreign competitors the
old man's ancestors had once wiped out at a very great cost.

So he showed off by saying it really was a “Carthaginian Victory.”

The nurse immediately fired him!

Too bad. If he had learned anything about the company he'd
have discovered it was possible to know too much.

But that’s a Universal Maxim, no? However eccentric our place
of employment.

The Pressers of this world are too intent on intellectual display
having nothing to do with real business!

Later, Chupsey-the-Survivor wisecracked. “Will one discover
an Invisible Hand under the rugs over that wheelchair?”

“Not usually,” young Hobart sneered, “it’s too busy going
up your ass!”

Labels: , , , ,

Thursday, June 23, 2016


The Man Who Failed at Failing.

Others wrote tomes
as to learning
from it.

He had no desire
of reprising stinks,

and had learned...despair!

Oh well, they’re leaders,
and he's judged one also: Just

going very much easier on the bs doth
comprise his most distinguishing feature.

Labels: , , , , , , , ,

Wednesday, June 22, 2016



Rich happy

with The Party of the Rich–-
aka sneered “Republican.”

Dems pipe
Worker’s Rights.

Well and fine,
fearless, even,
but it’s really

One Big Party
for two! Truly,

The Money Party!

Cast your votes for it.
How can you lose?

Labels: , , , , , , , ,

Tuesday, June 21, 2016


Trump as Kaiser Wilhelm

approaches every question
with an open mouth. Riot!

So...he’s making up for shy ones
like you, who didn’t speak out

multitudinous times. And Rout!-
ing such Respectable Quiet.

Labels: , , , , , , ,

Monday, June 20, 2016


Up There Zip

The richest man in our affluent zip
has passed.

Pause for hallelujahs from Left!

Resume, then, for Senator Runcie to
speak glowingly on the legislative floor.

His cut continues from the Estate.

Treasury and FBI are digging up
the extensive gardens. Billion so far.

Uncle Sam, that kowtowing waiter, will
finally get a share.

Not off the top, of course.

That goes to Prophets of Profit, and other
“Conservative” Greed Avatars.

All high-tone, religious even, but not a worry 

that grimier hands won’t mix in. 

Under the Big Tent.

Labels: , , , , , , , , ,

Sunday, June 19, 2016


The Perils of Writing Anything

-Well...ill chosen phrase!

-What I was getting at in blog:
the protracted end of an affair,
when things...get small, fleeting,
unimportant, excruciatingly trivial etc.

-And you call that Dwarf Sex?

-Maybe I shoulda thought more?

-Knocked web off a bit, and some
bitter complaints. Folks looking for
"Dwarf Sex" seek stills or vids of
dwarfs doing it. Couples or groups.

-Groups? Even I find that disgusting!

-Matter of Opinion. Besides, they like
to be called “Little People.”

-Roses by any other name, etc. 

And Dwarf Varieties therein? Of dwarfs?

-You have actual humor in you?

-Only when it comes to cruelty.

Labels: , , , , , , ,

Saturday, June 18, 2016


The Town, Jan 2, 1967

They thought the year
would never arrive,

but toasting it presently
with sparkling cider

mid the steam of
Excelsior Laundry.

Mr Randall, Lillian
from the bakery,

Shy Ray from Deese
Hardware. He

didn’t stay shy,
which is why
you’re here.

Labels: , , , , ,

Friday, June 17, 2016


The Grouping

When Moore found a table
and chair, it completed him.

Trio from then on.

Makes no difference what he did.
His own clever solitaire with a
wildly shuffled deck?

Or laying out a newspaper in

Or staring through his seven
inch tablet in meditative moments?

As if his eyes were nails down to
the Center of the Earth.

Did think of a woman, but another
chair seemed sacrilege.

The present grouping having an aesthetic
coherence as it stood.

You might feel he would die there, like that.

He had that thought too, and it comforted him.

Labels: , , , , , ,

Thursday, June 16, 2016


The Man Who Worried Incessantly

 simply gave it up before the barbarians
swept through.

What was the use? Most would be beaten
and/or raped.

And the killing would be entirely random.

As Fortune would have it, he was packed
into a truck, heading for a upland meadow.
And firing squad.

When! The Leader spied him grinning insanely.

“I have such mud turtles around me!”

Thus became he a kind of Man Friday,
fetching drinks, and dressing him
for battle.

In the moment, though, helped roll
the bodies downhill.

The leader had volatile moods, but Friday
kept the smile pasted on.

After a year, they invaded the small kingdom
bordering the chaotic one.

A girl brought in after the day’s carnage.

She spoke in monosyllables. Pliant, yet somehow

The leader rejected her. “Still water runs deep!
Give me the dizzy, shallow one always!”

But then thought it a Capital joke to give her to Friday.

“The Fool and the Mud Turtle!”

He often asked about the couple, but didn’t like
Friday’s replies. Not funny enough. Broke a pole
over his head one time.

As a result, Luonga and he plotted an escape
to a village so poor no one would ever bother
taking it.

Presently they reside in Gwandenka. That low place, and they, forgotten by God.

The Old Fools is their designation. Even the children and grandchildren call them that.

Labels: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Wednesday, June 15, 2016


Why the Women Love Mr Andre

(or Her Shoes Were--formerly--a Terrible Disgrace)

When Melana finally got the big promotion,
she went to Mr Andre’s for the works!

She had a week to report, and this the
first step.

The second, to “Mr Andre’s Brother”--
the actual name of the store in the
same building.

Who closed a few minutes early and they
sat on the thick rug like Indians.

“I have brought you a great beauty
who needs shoes urgently!”

The brother arranged for the new shipment
of Hal Hastings to be brought in and opened
in front of her. Melani ended with a dozen pair.

When she presented her Visa, Andre’s look
said discount.

It prevailed, though Hal Hastings never,
ever, discounted.

Tomorrow would be boutiques, but,
once home, she got ravenous.

Off to the Showbiz Deli, a block away,
wearing her lowest slung Hal Hastings,
with their little colored beads for fun!

Micksey Dell awaited the bus in front
of the restaurant.

“Are THOSE Hal Hastings?”


Labels: , , , , , ,

Tuesday, June 14, 2016



-Reminds me of the biblical story of
Rudolpho and Eck.

-Whoa! No such duo! I had the whole
book screamed past my ears, courtesy
of insane uncles and aunts.

-During your formative years?

-They rendered them gnashingly formless!

-Anyway, you’re right. Rudolpho and Eck
were interpreters. Forbidden to have
their own story.

-Queer too?

-A few called it that. But that was merely
half the time. At any rate, they toured with
light crew, scabrous musicians, and a
phalanx of whores.

-I'll take whatever comes to my own phalanx.
By the boring bye what became of...?

-One night in Allentown, both went completely,
irretrievably mad! Totally a-babble!

-Was the torch taken up?

-By the local Republican Party. It's the Cal and
Edgar Show now. They're makers, not takers!


-Live and let live!

-You can't do that with cutpurses!
Once they do their thing, you'll starve
by the side of the road, no matter how
many clowns parade by.

-I'm amused though. And have purchased
a lifetime of dried food.


Labels: , , , , , , , , ,

Monday, June 13, 2016


about to...

“We, who are about to die, salute you!”

From Bellefleur, who could be scathing and
loyal at once.

“Let’s not anyone die!” I admonished him.
"We’ve trained for this!"

But it was pretty much a suicide mission.

He complained at the meeting to which I
and Associate Commander, Rendon,
were not invited.

Too ethnic for our tastes. Massively emotional,
and real tears when Marins went on about not
seeing his little daughter again.

The more complex Bellefleur persevered about
missing his slick litle Audi. He made its redness

We knew these things because the secret meeting
is secretly recorded.

The following Four AM, Tellemon, the Afro,
laughed “A black man putting on blackface,
to advance the racist state!”

My Associate Commander ordered him to stop.

It came to me to tell him that next time he should
join the Army of Utopia, if he wanted purity.

My job was to treat him decently, and he admitted 

that I had.

Well, off!  Rendon and I resembling complacent larks. 

Our happiest time!

Officers of our responsibility have never been killed.

Some Angels protect us.

I see them with wings enwrapping each of us upon the terrible battlefield.

While troopers walk past towards a blaze.

Labels: , , , , , ,

Sunday, June 12, 2016


Med Nutz

-“A duck just slid over our filthy lagoon,
quacking loudly!

So I quacked back!”

At that point in the interview, my “Committee
of Doctors” whipped out notebooks and scribbled
a full five minutes.

Then they conferred. Then, quacked discordantly.

But...the Docs aren’t supposed to be nuts. That’s my role!

-It’s everybody role here. We’re all nuts and we’re all doctors.
You included. It’s an experiment.

-I’m...going back to religion!

-Was that your Rock?

-It sunk me, the way it does folks today.

-Well, what’s so bad about being crazy in the
secular sense? The food is good.

-Chef Otto. He came straight from the Waldorf,
after bursting his screws after a diner’s compliant
regarding a pistachio flan.

-He’s also a physician! Dusseldorf!

-They won’t settle for less than perfection here!

Labels: , , , , ,

Saturday, June 11, 2016


Hit Refresh

Both Jick and Corey had slight builds,
so no possibility with Jick’s Darcy.

Big-boned woman.

But with Corey’s Jill, as slight?

They try on things from her closet as the
women cook and gossip.

Dance together finally. That proves awkward.

As if the chosen clothes didn’t like movement.

More comfortable at Dinner, wives flushed
and jolly. They’ve picked her favorites!
claims Jill.

Labels: , , , , ,

Friday, June 10, 2016


The Voice of the Patriot

is heard in our land.

Give that nig
a chance

& he’s flippin’
disaster!  So y’

me to vote
for god-

damn woman?

Labels: , , , , ,

Thursday, June 09, 2016


Short Enough For You?

-How long have you been irrelevant?

-Seems like forever.

-You’ve lost out on a lot!

-Easier on the nerves.

-I’d think harder.

-Product of Brainwashing!

Labels: , , , ,

Wednesday, June 08, 2016


The Movement

Suffice to say that Management likes
the Work For Nothing Movement.

Most wonder why it doesn’t stop, though,
since practitioners have made their point
of absolute freedom from unions and
interfering laws.

Many had no money going in, and
they’ve died for the cause, Southern
Legislatures declaring them heroes
and martyrs.

Remainder not listening, either, to the
merciful car manufacturers proposing
half the going rate for Pakistan.

No money desired. None! Thus, no
charity either!

Man and women of principle have
always shamed the rest of us!

Labels: , , , , , ,

Tuesday, June 07, 2016


Working At the Sawmill

Carly, Accountant and owner’s wife,
always passed your check with some

With me, always the same. “Some overtime
in there. Maybe you can start on your
falling-down shed I pass each morning?”

Getting the materials! I promised.

Actually the shed was used for the Saturday
Get-Together featuring The Banjo Maniacs
with Delsey-Do!

She carried a keyboard and sang.

Mix in some moonshine and marijuana and

This whole part of the county looked forward
to it.

Well, it did eventually fall down. No surprise.
And firemen dug us out.

Mostly scrapes and bruises, but I, your funny MC, missed a month at the sawmill.

Carly sent a card, original name scratched out.

Labels: , , , ,

Monday, June 06, 2016



after the requisite
selfies shared,

eats an ice cream cone
entire. So Right goes

bananas! Such gall impinging fair
Mom and Pop emporium on lake

or ocean shore, or pocket
shop in truly rural digs. Their

formal hate propelling Patriots
to deny the normal everyday
re those despised. Tempest

in a teapot? Nay!
Evil in a scoop!

Labels: , , , ,

Sunday, June 05, 2016


Learning the Game

-Markey is responsible, but it gets weird.

-Gentry girl?

-You heard?

-He claimed papahood.

-She didn’t know who he was!

-Rap and I decided that being that sick
meant terrifically lonely. So we put him
on the ginmill softball team.

-How’d that work out?     

-Since he’s brilliant, the theoretical part
of the game gets grasped. But has no
athletic skills. None!

-His parents like the first part: quarter mil to MIT!
But...hafta throw him off team?

-Harp Costello used to be assistant baseball coach at Oney High? Took him on as a project. Hours!

-Pretty good now?

-Not bad! But he truly shines in the apres game! When we lift our flabby arms to fill our hollow legs with beer.

-AND inhale Bent Jo-Jo’s four-inch thick bloody cheeseburgers?

-Mais oui! fellow gourmet.

-With raw onion?

-All the girls are the raw onion!

-And is Markey shy in the face of such overt femininity?

-Takes a different one home every night!

-Sounds to me like you’ve added an ir before responsibility?


-It’s a Class Thing.

-Several classes, though.

-Just one in THAT dive!

Labels: , , , , , , ,

Saturday, June 04, 2016


The Edge of the Moon

-So pretty! And yet what a tragic flaw!

-How would you characterize it?



-She could really rip 'em. Industrial Strength!
Emptied  rooms.

-How embarrassing for her! Sought medical...?

-Every Gastric Mavin from here to...!

-New Haven? Romance must have been a problem.

-You think? You'd think! But she met a guy
at a Gas-X display who hugely admired her.
Looked forward to a contest!

-Some sort of roughneck longshoreman or something?



-But, not a rival in the sound department, fortunately for the profession. Mostly SBD, him.

-Silent but Deadly!  Even so, for decorum in the
hushed precincts...?

-But, the library in a new building with good
odor handling capacity. Though hardly perfect.
Occasionally the custodians did a sweep, believing some critter had crawled in and died.

-Did they marry?  There couldn’t be rivals.

-Outdoor ceremony. Windswept. More than a few
passed out, even so. And they wrote some raucous metal cauterwailings into the proceedings, courtesy of Jan, John, and the Smashgods!


-Was that! Is!

-How they getting on?

-Not bad! He still admires her greater gifts!
Two years have passed, no pun.

-Any blessed event?

-Oh yes! Pregnancy magnified her problems,
of course.

-I can imagine!

-Not really. No one could.

-At any rate...?

-Staff muscled a fan used in
mining into the Delivery Room.

-Enter Junior, or Jasmine?

-Junior. And already a virtuoso of rear

-Someone should write an opera!

-He's on his way to that in performance!


-Father Mike chose the high school ballpark.

-Worried about Stations of the Cross disintegrating?

-How’d you guess?

Labels: , , ,

Friday, June 03, 2016


Jesus In a Suit

Scene: Small inner room of
Back Door Tavern, where
Bloody Marys being concocted,
adding secret ingredients.

The Army of Ecuador just marched
through my mouth.

Merry Christmas! Drink slow.

 (reprising his sketch role as
last night’s Little Miss Innocence)

“Your largess doesn’t impress me, Sir.
I’ve seen bigger.”

I can’t even visualize Mr Completely Good
with his pants off. 

But you played him well as a raging hypocrite.

Easier in the old days, when the Board sent us
fallible CEOs. Now we got Jesus in a suit!

Our sketch last night is the first step in his

I’ll drink to that! But he’s been singing all

His goodness is a slap in the face!

Just another in a line of today’s utter frustrations.

We can’t really hurt him?

Not a way!

It’s a Class Thing.

Yeah, he’s got it and we’ll never have it.

Must pray to the Devil!

HIS plate is full of the real world!

Maybe Jesus in a Suit will transition
to a skirt.

Then we’d just turn all PC!

Or be shot?

World’s gone to shit!

Drinking’s last White Privilege!

Can’t pry that from our...

dead pale hands!

Labels: , , , , , , , , ,

Thursday, June 02, 2016


At the Addiction Shop

it's Let’s Pretend.  I’ve combined a few ingredients,
and try to fake I’m experimenting.

Of course, my Old Harrower still rules!

But, they’re not to find that out!

They do, of course, and I’m at The Committee!

Led by the triply-sweet Jennifer. Who digs at
the raw parts with efficiency!

Finally my nerves just can’t take it, and it just fires
out of me! “How many men have YOU ruined?”

“No, no. A frank exchange!” she answers those
who wish to expel me on the spot.

Her tack changes then to slow seduction. I’m promised
The Harrower forever if I go along. Implicitly promised,
naturally. Jens is nothing if not slick.

Well, grating story short, I’m ruined by her. And, by
the way, I make seven, three who committed suicide.

Then, tossed from Addiction Shop altogether!

I must put myself out with the trash the following

Sounds more terrible than it is. The guys just
put me in a separate compartment in their
huge truck. Lefty-2 brings coffee. Nice of him.
We shout over the rumbling.

“How can you be sure this is not my addiction?”

“It’s everybody’s!” He adds cream to his and
it shimmers.

“That's beautiful!” I tell him.

Labels: , , , ,

Wednesday, June 01, 2016



The new rulers even more perverse
than the last ones.

As a result, dogs now walked people.

With my Spud, chaos, as he drops my
leash from his mouth and goes running off!

But he’ll return, of course, and we’ll resume.

Law supposed to humiliate me, but my neighbors
prove nice. And bring treats for me as I wait.

Mr Kensill lingers. Has a question he has
trouble getting to.

Would Spud walk him also?

“We can try when he comes back.”

Labels: , , , , ,

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?