Monday, September 27, 2010
Gold!
I live in Cocoa Beach, Florida, and if the shooting war between staunch white Republicans and undocumented brown workers coincides with a Category-5 hurricane, blood will flow down from the causeways.
I hope to have a brick of Kraft cheese to strike a deal with a shattered guy bearing a loaf of bread.
I won’t sell my cheese outright. No way.
And neither I nor my future survival partner will accept a bar of gold.
I live in Cocoa Beach, Florida, and if the shooting war between staunch white Republicans and undocumented brown workers coincides with a Category-5 hurricane, blood will flow down from the causeways.
I hope to have a brick of Kraft cheese to strike a deal with a shattered guy bearing a loaf of bread.
I won’t sell my cheese outright. No way.
And neither I nor my future survival partner will accept a bar of gold.
Labels: Golden Gate, hurricane, immigration, survival, White Republicans
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Barcelona Bars
put out innumerable snacks.
Fixed by toothpicks, & check final-
ly driven by these left
on plate. Be interesting
to bring idea to St Peter. But
avoiding lumber necessi-
tates a color-coding scheme.
& he’ll say, “What am I? An
accountant? Join that line there!”
Uh uh! Look at the faces, mud
turtles. They’re due for the down
escalator. Beat!
“Quaint images from simple earth.”
I want fairness! Not caprice.
“Oh you do? Still don’t get it, do you?”
put out innumerable snacks.
Fixed by toothpicks, & check final-
ly driven by these left
on plate. Be interesting
to bring idea to St Peter. But
avoiding lumber necessi-
tates a color-coding scheme.
& he’ll say, “What am I? An
accountant? Join that line there!”
Uh uh! Look at the faces, mud
turtles. They’re due for the down
escalator. Beat!
“Quaint images from simple earth.”
I want fairness! Not caprice.
“Oh you do? Still don’t get it, do you?”
Labels: Barcelona, Golden Gate, heaven, St Peter
