Friday, June 30, 2017

 

His life had been


The Appalachia 
of Desire.

Everything wore out
but crazy love,

which wheezed,
lacking calories.

He switched rotgut
for opioid, burning

into, thereby,
Paradise!

The lovely mountains
and valleys spurned
for their inertia.

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Thursday, June 29, 2017

 

Right View, Education


Penn’s Wharton School decried
for producing Donald Trump.

Hey! It’s a professional outfit!

Broad-gauged Humanists who
sob at the death of insects
can find soft homes elsewhere.

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Wednesday, June 28, 2017

 

When women get together to laugh,


more wisdom
as to Life before
they separate.

Is that because
there’s space
by taking

out the bragging?

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Tuesday, June 27, 2017

 

First, do no good


(Wait for laughs)

Our Republican Health Bill
only harms 22 million.

But, we'd like to help!

What part of Go Fuck Yourself!
do you Reeking-Reecans not
understand?

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Monday, June 26, 2017

 

-Abduction?


Don't be ridiculous! They asked
me, I went.

-Who did?

-A...trio. Speaking all together. Singing, sort of.
Well, both.

-Odd!

-I agree. But, really, the only odd moment.

-A normal adventure? Come off it!

-Very much so. So forget the tabloid stuff.
I wasn't examined or probed or violated.

-Then why did they...?

-Never know. When I walked around
the ship I heard whispers of
dark eyes, flashing etc.

-Gypsy?

-There are Rumanians way back. Plus,
I’m hardly a pale beauty.

-More about the ship?

-Was given a flight chair, but
it had no seatbelt or anything.
Gravity held me there I guess.

Anyway, I could walk anywhere,
but the nuclear area which was
signed danger in the ways similar
to here.

-Did you get onto the flight deck?

-Didn't have to. The Captain came
to me, and more than once. He
smoozed around the whole ship.
 

-Barked commands anyway?

-Through hand signals. Subtle stuff...
which I can't say for my Wily E Coyote 

Pajamas.

-A hit with the interstellar gang?

-Nothing ever funnier!

-So they were amused? The ship ran on?
You weren't raped or anything? Where's
the story?

-None. I told you.

-How long were...?

-After, they dropped me here in a weird
vehicle badged as Chevvie. And the
front door lock snapped open by magic,
I walked into the groaning house where
you could hear sleeping like wind through
shutters.

-Time?

-My clock radio showed about an hour elapsed.
But they had said I had spent a whole night and
the next morning.

-Uh huh? Let's go back a bit and...

-No way! Show's over!

-Ah hah! Something not right! Still makes
you queasy!

-No more than usual.


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Sunday, June 25, 2017

 

Humble Pie,


Sliced Thrice

-Famed in song and story!

-For your humility.

-I blush!

-Don't! Others set the table,
and you moved the plates and
cutlery around.

-Looking pleasant.

-Or faking it.

-Skip the humble in the next life?

-Wouldn't hurt to blow your own
horn once in a while.

-What, blow? Just the merest tootle!

-Let us know you're human.

-So I should have balanced off...?

-Couldn't help yourself!

-Too much power in humility!

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Saturday, June 24, 2017

 

The “There” There


Tresh and Habney

-The answer is in the dirt!

-Is it? You mean I been wasting
my time looking elsewhere? Clouds?
Infinity? Bosuns?

-Ben Hogan said that. About golf.

-Well, he knew about that.

-Uh, practice. Hit a million balls!

-From the dirt?

-Where else?

-He was smart. But I like it in Washington!

-Dirt there?

-Been known.

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Friday, June 23, 2017

 

Ongoing


The heat has gone
mad of itself,
a rager.

All the ACs explode.
People awake soaked.
Somehow, more aged.

Everything outside and in
stinks.

Sun looks doubled.

Sky, metal rubbed.

No one complains,
too shaken.

A woman dies catch-
ing her breath.

Soon, many do.

Corpses pile up and all
too exhausted to try
doing anything about it.

Roger tells Sissy, “Let’s just
jump on the pile.”

Lovers!

But they expire
trying to climb.

No sky then.
Sun horizon
to horizon.

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Thursday, June 22, 2017

 

Hohenzollern Anthonys


Tells you his first name
after Kings, his second the
great Roman General and
Lover!

“But plural there, since one of me
not enough for the ravenous
women of today’s world!”

A joke.

You escape! And aforementioned
hungry females laugh scornfully.

Such a man heads for modern disaster.

The first serious manifestation when
he's fired. The new management team
delegates a fresh vice-president to
give plural-boy the word.

Laurel Inglesby Cartz brings the
articulate, and even scientific,
case to a small, special office.

When she finishes, flushed,
instead of hearing an Angel Chord,
she discovers he's asleep.

He explains that it's so messy,
fatigues him, and suggests they
clean it together.


Miss Neat Freak agrees.

Anyway, she discovers what all the
ridiculing distaffs and Personnel
Solomons have missed: Character.

Decides then and there, so sick she
of usual male-female falderal.

Three adoring little daughters later...

Uh huh, yup, she had fired him, and
then hired him for the long run.


Cornball enough for you?

“Wait till they're teens,” you warn.
“At least one will tell him to go
fuck himself!”

To a truly loving man, won't happen.

Oh well, enough of this variety of
impossible story!

Just...maybe...he succeeds because
he's not too bright?


Possibly. But cleverness too often
outshone by natural maturity.

But. Generally. How YOU doing,
Smartass?

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Wednesday, June 21, 2017

 

Pale Pride

  
Trump Chant

at GOP Congres-
sional Win
in Georgia?

Ja
Whol
y'

all!



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Tuesday, June 20, 2017

 

Millennial Trio


-Is my whole life getting on
Frisian Locomotives?

-No, your whole life consists
of stringing nonsense sounds.

-You, likewise, can't have a year
excluding October.

-You should. It's the gateway to
freakin ice!

-The dearth of tri-axial moonbeams
can no longer be ignored.

-Let’s ignore it anyway. Just for practice.

-My whole life...

-Not again!

-Your whole life consists of weakly
bitching for incoherent reasons.

-How rare to meet a true Millennial!

-Why not take a nice lay-down, Honey?

-My parents!

-Thought your little words were golden.

-As they hovered. And hovered!

-Helicopter Parents!

-Look around! They may be still!

-I don't need anyone anymore! I'm a
miracle as I stand. A living and
breathing...

-Uh huh?

-And the farmer took another
load away!

-If I became a farmer I'd make it better!
You’d see!

-Let’s give you an award now!
Before the fact.

-Ah but there are no facts!

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Monday, June 19, 2017

 

The Modern American Revolution:


 Left Talking

-El Comrado-Presidente 

goes to Miami.

-When things turn shit, seek
reactionaries to love and be
loved.

-Cubans and the Grand--and
Very Old--Party!

-If only they could dig up Fidel
and hang him!

-Make things great again?

-Like Prostitution! Really took a hit
way way back!

-What did the Revolution have
against girls?

-Anyway, our Christian Right could
help shepherd a Restoration!

-Viva Sluts!


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Sunday, June 18, 2017

 

Market


Marcy, a deeply-dimpled Ditz.

Quirky personality to say the least...
yet warm and enveloping!

And we gave up trying to translate
what she said.

Charming babble.

Anyway, broke she confused hearts with
little effort.
 

Moved on from her as her act thinned.

But, who’s to say it was or wasn’t an act?

And who cares?

Anyway, we traded her straight up to
Harbor Neighbors LLC for Deborah. Ice!

Something must be said for getting
what you see.

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Saturday, June 17, 2017

 

Two Future Saints


in fistfight re
who’s humbler.

Much verbal too,
but vulgar, never
Faith-Shaking.

And, being Churchmen,
gouging ruled in.

After, a pile of blood
and hair and sweat

and how!

Instant Forgiveness sug-
gested by other illumes,
but delayed.

Today’s Gang
of Saints

more realistic.

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Friday, June 16, 2017

 

-“Turgid Victorian Hangover”


describes my post puberty run.

-Awful! Myself and girlfriends
remade the Roaring Twenties
instead. This time with The Pill.

-Healthier.

-Flogged your member alone,
did you?

-Frowned upon! But, all in all,
there were work-arounds for
everything.

-Like today’s tech?

-Will we ever lose tech?

-It’s forever! Sex I DO worry about.

-Don’t worry, be sad.

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Thursday, June 15, 2017

 

The Reverse Transfer


-So few applications for
reverse transfers, that
I wanted to talk to you.

-Of course.

-Do you have a complaint or...?

-No complaint, really. Just the
sad acknowledgment that most
have lied their way in.

-As on Earth. Hypocrisy. We run
campaigns to help eradicate it,
but...

-Our strongest habit...?

-I suppose. But, have you participated
in any...?

-No. I stay away. Preferring to read.

-An odd one.

-Agreed.

-So, you don't like the Campaigns
for Goodness...and the company?

-Unfortunately.

-Don't you fear the suffering in
the other place?

-I think I'll be more left alone.

-In my experience, I don't find
that a truly driving force...
as the French say "Cherchez..."

-I admit it! I hope to find her there,
continue our Earth sinning!

-Not very noble.

-Blessedly!

-Well, many more to choose from if
she doesn't work out.

-Are you saying Hell consists
mostly of women?

-They say men forced them there.

-I feel I was forced here!

-To experience bad company?
Aren't you too much the Idealist?

-Admitted. Idealist. Loner. Lover.

-Don't romanticize! I can't stand it.
Here! I'm stamping your papers.
May you find your peculiar Heaven
in Hell!

-Everywhere's peculiar.   

-And everyone?

-Some pipe up.

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Wednesday, June 14, 2017

 

Power Apres


-Wow! Thanks!

-You ordered the best.

-Bears repeating: Wow!

-Can Jill bring you something
to drink?

-Uh, Jill?

-You met her. Very quiet.

-I hope she stays that way.

-You pay for discretion from my
whole staff. It’s guaranteed.

-No leaks?

-If I have something to say, I
come right out with it.

-Uh oh!

-But never a worry here. Ever.
If...you allow a word of advice?

-Please.

-Always, in everything, deal with Pros!

-I try, but Washington is such a masquerade!

-Speaking of which. Come the first Tuesday
each month. In costume.

-You’ll be wearing...?

-Catholic Schoolgirl.

-Count me in! 

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Tuesday, June 13, 2017

 

Codename: Delphinium


Dell Finn shook Clifford with the secret.
Martyred Women Anonymous had
targeted him.

But why? His breakups had been
amicable, two divorces the same.

“Their strategy, in that anyone can
possibly comprehend it, has edged
over to picking a dull guy, pretending
he’s flamboyant.”

“I don’t get it!”

“You never do. That’s what they count on.
But you have me in your corner!”

That proved not enough, what with fighting
through picket lines, and having work disrupted
by chanting and singing sirens of modernity.

Anyway, Bill Haskins finally issued him two months
leave to stay with his brother, Dr Jerome Haskins,
at Bide-a-Bit.

Security was good there and the harpies couldn’t
fight through.

But they were exceedingly more clever than
anyone could have guessed.

Male Nurse Victor had been planted a few
months earlier.

He had been Clifford’s first divorce.

The ensuing sex change so thorough that
Cliff had no clue now. Sound familiar?

Managed to tape all his therapy sessions.
 

MWA has reserved airtime next month to finish
blowing him out of the water!

Bide-a-Bit would have to go too. Collateral Damage
of the recent sort. Yet, horror enablers too!

Anyway, normal, but prosaic, men put on notice!

The Cause beginning to take giant steps over
small bodies.



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Monday, June 12, 2017

 

The Bends


-That’s it then! We’ve established
that you know everything.

-Slight exaggeration.

-So, how define Feminism?

-Living revengeful is the best well.

-I like conversing with you. Adds up
to nothing.

-Crazy Math is a motor, not a crutch.

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Sunday, June 11, 2017

 

-Left off the desirable list!


-Something you did? Or, knowing
you, said?

-The latter I would guess.

-You do say some dreadful,
dreadful things!

-I think it's because I feel that I 

don't have much time left.

-So little time, so much
vituperation?

-Something like that.

-Well, you should do just
the opposite!

-Sunshiny?

-Ja wohl!

-No way! Those people get
shit on with great regularity.

-To a degree.

-Always! Sans balls!

-It's piping then?

-Everything!

-Well, yours is Rube Goldberg!

-Rube! Don't go! I love you!

-Twisted!

-That way you keep meeting
yourself.





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Saturday, June 10, 2017

 

Entrance of the Diffuse Ensemble


Their cruel existence
outside

makes work necessary
and vice

versa.

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Friday, June 09, 2017

 

The Weekend


-Her monosyllables pollute
my poor brain still.

-Never embark on a long
weekend with a stranger.

-We left in icy rain.

-That's just climate. How
about the rest?

-I worked even harder on
conversation. A flop. Sex came
after, anyway.

-Glimmer of hope?

-Puppetry.

-Wash it away. All of it.
Never happened!

-Nearly there, but the gods
totally bored, so she's come
to work in my department.
 

-Not good! Do you two speak
of your wingless lovebird time?

-Just to guffaw.

-Don't try again!

-Inevitable.

-As in failure?

-Wouldn't want to disappoint
myself.

-Life! Grim grim life!

-You can be my biographer.

-I'll tell you what! I gather
two more alleged men, and we
go to a ballgame.

-But all we do is laugh.

-Yeah!

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Thursday, June 08, 2017

 

The Cowboys of Desire


throng KMart's closing
sale. Nicknames abound.

Perfume=Stinkwater,
Panties=Manhole Covers.

All this said, not yodeled.

Meanwhile, Back at the Raunch,
The objects of these Cowboys
remove “covers” for others

more urgent, though less
clever. But Sagebrush
Desirers a forgiving bunch,
and after compulsory therapies

of booze and drugs, endow
the sliders with said

perfumes and panties.
(Mid Cottonwood glide
and murmur, and cactus
melodies.)     

Latter gift seizes each day
of week in florescent script.

Promising freshness in
the tired, tired
Old West.

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Wednesday, June 07, 2017

 

The Modern Question


Rells mixes up his meds.
Takes the morning ones
at bedtime.

Immediately feels better!
Hudgy, bud of some
therapeutic years, concurs.

“You stumbled into cure!”

“It won’t last.”

“Not with that attitude!”

“Ever hear of Placebo Effect?”

“What HAVEN’T I heard of?”

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Tuesday, June 06, 2017

 

Storm of the Century!


Views of the aftermath

-North Soaring Ridge,
who listened to its
elected and appointed
officials, and put sandbags
everywhere in addition, had
only three fatalities.

-And the hippies of South
Soaring Ridge listened to
no one and did nothing!
Zero fatalities. Go figure.

-You already have in your
fashionable cynicism. Lazy
Hippies and their scattery
Millennial Brats getting your vote!

-Maybe God looks out for them,
since they're not completely
full of shit!

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Monday, June 05, 2017

 

...more things change


Their porn consisted
of energetic couples--
most hetero--

doing it in bizarre
places, witnesses so

blinking...
blanking,

finally
as if to say

bring us something
deft, new.

What’s True
we've left
in favor of novelty,

which routs
us all insanely
for the long run.

But,
both do.

And we remain
easy throughout.

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Sunday, June 04, 2017

 

INSUFFERABLE!


too mild a summation of Mark and Bellasy.

We avoid them after the latest incendiary
bout!

Her looks flat gone! And his moroseness
like an extended acid fart!

Then, the miracle!

Under the influence of Dr Kildad Morrisey’s book,
Sign here! AND HERE! , they have completed a
14-page contract covering all.

We’re invited to witness, but not the SS.

Sex Section.

Well, anyway, he has regained some of his
limited fun (more regarded, still, as a
powerfully silent “Hunk”) and she?

Can flip on any rag for Starbucks, and
people stare. Yeah, she’s that beautiful!

Even our Stell, who makes up celebrity women on

Live Your Dream! is astounded at her.

Anyway, they carry around their contract,
discussing it super-calmly.

Boring the shit outa the rest of us...but
this can never change.

They exist for each other. No much room
for even
Fast News At Six, let alone the
rest of us mere mortals.

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Saturday, June 03, 2017

 

A Small Society


When Hennesy Birdsong’s ten-year girlfriend
left him, we couldn’t wait to revenge ourselves on
The Master Ribber!

The Melody in question, too, left a trail of bright
crumbs regarding their sex life, bizarre and prosaic
at once. Her female chums relayed such, in detail.

So much that we had to plan the precise first jab.
Hart, our most educated, assumed the final,
verbal role.

Something softly literary, yet singularly vicious!

So so cruelly successful that Henzy cried a solid hour,
We piled beer and Fritos in front of him, and grew scared
when the fountains splashed into yet another hour.

He was having trouble catching his breath.
So we phoned our absent Dr Brister, on hospital duty.

“He’ll stop. We all stop.”

He did and wow! The Guilt Trips!

Inquiries have been made as to the exact insult.

But that would be wasting it.




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Friday, June 02, 2017

 

Rumsey Applethorpe


The ambulance lurched
and the tubing over
the patient swayed
in orange smears.

The attendant seized it
and all was well.

"He's stable. And now I
need your info. Name?”
Thrust his iPhone at her.

“Rumsey Applethorpe.”

“Same as the patient?
Are you a Share?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Then I'll have to have you
lie down. You'll have to
undergo the same tests
and procedures.”

“Is that necessary? I’m quite well.”

“The new protocol. Uh...with
obvious differences as to sex.”

“I don't think there are any.
Or if there are, trivial.”

“Well, he's male and you're...
you can't talk that away,
even today.”

 “I wish to, and don’t.”

“Excuse me...but I don’t get Shares.”

“Fine! We just get ourselves!”
 

The other Rumsey sat up through
the tubes: “Must we always explain
everything?”

“Don’t worry, Honey, it’s all routine,”
she tried reassuring.

The attendant became too rough in
forcing him down.

Then, she finally acted. Shares have
double strength.

She disassembled the tubing after,
extracting the other Rums.

Attendant out cold.

Both yelled for the driver to stop, and
soon were running the night streets,
laughing.

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Thursday, June 01, 2017

 

Further Searching for Truth


I tour the Theater of Desire,
my guide gabby until he
proclaims “Lies make up
a good part of this filth!”

I need to sit, but the red
velvet rows have been ripped
out, the floor fittings covered
with dusty newspapers.

He fetches a folding chair
from a circle the lunching
workmen use to inhale their
subs, and exhale their tales of
destruction.

It collapses under me.

Funniest occurrence in History
of Mankind, and so he rolls
demonstrably around in the
newspapers, sending up clouds
of dusty hysteria. Assumes the
vertical to wave his arms!

I scramble up to finally stop this
absurd act.  “You’re over the top!”

Bang the dust off of him as he
apologizes.

I admit I lay on too hard, and
he starts screaming! “Finally,
after all, the resort to violence!”

He lisped the last word, so both
of us explode into a giggling fit.

We’re running a rave here next week.

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