Monday, April 09, 2018
Conforming
The new law airily demands “some
form of decoration.”
So I sensibly eschew Patriots Inc
offer of the words of America the
Beautiful.
Favoring instead one of Jellica’s
Jaggeds.
She had pushed them on all the
talk shows, and proved funny
and engaging.
Mine resembled a lighting bolt,
so amused my equally laid-back
friends.
It doesn’t show day by day, but the
dressier stuff exposes the scrotum.
Dates and the like, and, believe it
or not, Bowling.
Labels: abstract, art, clever responses, Law, patriotic
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Walking With Genius
...and other colossal wastes
-I don’t get Math.
-Who could?
-Why always expect me to?
-Well...they do pay us to profess it.
-How could I profess anything? I’d feel
ridiculous.
-Uh...moving right along, what is working
on you now?
-I don’t know.
-That late a stage! I’m impressed.
-A month to polish and...
-Will I hafta hear you’re the Genius of the
Age again?
-Hope not. People come and ask questions.
It’s all so stupid!
-How public! Like a frog! Will they ask why
you’re not wearing socks?
-They stink even before you put them on!
-Uh huh? Your Carly-Ann is obviously at the
same Weekend For Bossy Broads as my
Jensy. She’ll soon announce her presence,
and where the sock drawer is.
-Announce! They’re both Announcers!
-Thank God for it! The quiet is rancid in
my place.
-Quiet is gold!
-Yeah, for idiot misers such as you. By the
bye? November? Cold? No jacket?
-Jackets are for forgetting.
-What’s next for you after the inevitable trophy?
-Absurdity.
-That’s for everyone.
-No, there’s a math to feel around in there.
-Rotza Ruck! Here...as I lean fatly forward and
fetch a rock. Expense of breath! Anyway, premature prize for you!
-I’ll treasure! Put it on my mantel.
-Because of the angle, no one will see it.
-I’ll prop atop one of the whatchacallits.
-Good! Whatchacallits rule! Maybe we should...
partner in this latest nonsense?
-I don’t think so.
-Mother never taught to share?
-Never taught anything.
-And Father?
-Abstracted.
-No wonder you’re a genius. You’re unlearned!
Labels: abstract, abstracted, academic, awards, famous, genius, math, math genius, prizes
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Charging Towards Perfection
Her Mind
Glor told Mark it was over, so he returned to his wife
and babies.
And to Ice! No, really. Ice Storm of the Century! Thus,
with Nelly at night school, he sat in the empty house
as it lost power, and contemplated both his lust and
fetching the children the following day from her mother's,
aka Dragon's Lair.
Glor, or course, had simply changed her mind. Again.
The voracious sex lasted five months this time, and Ralph-
the-Mechanic had won the pool at Kippy's Kool Kup, since
it didn't go six.
She became busy writing tiny missives now, to leave in the produce
section of the Acme. To be read by Cal, the young manager.
Poems actually, though lost to posterity when dumped into the
wrong box, of old TV Fan Magazines, by mistake.
One endured. The best one, luckily. Placed in oranges.
Blue?
Try someone new!
Clever lads find such poets, and Cal not long after rented a
bungalow on Appletree Lane.
Glor, this time, went total domestic! Aprons, Apple Pies, even his
lunchtime visits proved more flouncy, though hurried.
"She has found happiness at last!" proclaimed the Professor from
his canted stool at Kippy's.
But, she changed her mind. Lasted over a year though, and no one
won the pool.
Last--in the secular realm--a cyber millionaire installed her among
the old Pac Mens and a roller rink in his loft apartment-office.
He supplied her with iPhones and iPads no mattter how many she lost.
But...that life was not for her. All the WORKING while pretending it's fun.
She had changed her mind. Since the pool had rolled over, it became
even more interesting when the commissioner ruled that the cyber-guy one was improperly set up. So, another rollover!
Serious money! And he also ruled that anyone who stayed must
throw in an additional hundred. No one left, harder on the Professor,
since the state recently halved his retirement check.
The rules this time: One was to write a two-word depiction of Glor's next move.
Accomplished, and placed in the greasy tub that Slippery Skinny
had brought from the Roxy after devouring the popcorn therein.
When she announced, the new contents would be solemnly
brought out.
She did!
And the winner was Nun, Nepal.
Glor said Thailand, but the commissioner ruled close enough!
Hector Watts, the deathly quiet accountant, took home a couple
of thousand or so!
Actually, Glor, ultimately rejected both exotic locales--"Stinking
long ride on a stinking airplane!"--for Jersey City.
Mother Superior Veronica-Marie was taken by this serial sinner
with a burning vocation!
Everybody always was infatuated by our Glor, the Church only
the latest to break down.
And such a novice! Holy too small a term!
Well. Okay. This one not profaned by a pool, but she, uh,
changed her mind before the point of no return. Again.
In a first, went back to the Cyber Dude. There a third of
the floorspace devoted to her painting studio with its
garish abstracts, and Super-Morning-Six has interviewed
her and shown her work.
We are not surprised, having seen her artistic side with the poetry.
Good Morning America wanted to come in too, but she
snubbed them at the last minute.
Too immersed in painting her life. Her Life! LIFE!
Labels: abstract, art, artist, betting pool, change mind, cyber, painting, poetry, sex
Thursday, April 09, 2015
Advice in a Red State
-Where am I going wrong as the conservative
governor of a conservative state?
-The ideas are pure in the abstract. Put them
into force and they’re beyond ridiculous!
-Thus the whole world gets a horselaugh?
-‘fraid so.
-If you live for The Ideal, the naysayers tear you down!
-Somebody around here doing that former?
-Okay, okay! Sarcasm noted. I’m still a politician.
-Then start acting like one! Not John Galt
inhaling his pissy pants!
Labels: abstract, Conservative, ideals, John Galt, piss, pure, red state
