Friday, January 04, 2019
Super-market Karma
-Got somebody’s Bounty Paper Towels.
Didn’t return.
But cheated out of item before...
let’s say small jar of pickles!
-So approximate or ambiguous
scales of justice, okay?
-Has to be!
-Thus, if a woman loses her lovely
husband, will another instantly appear?
-Perhaps after a bit.
-Justice delayed is Justice denied!
-Anyway, I use Salvation Army to
smooth things over in Karma Dept,
throw in tener! Red kettle in front
of Winn Dixie.
-You’re still a criminal!
Ad so on. I'm still teased in my
perpetually amused circle.
None this vague I insist!
Dillinger and Babyface having
much clearer heads.
Labels: checking out, conscience, crime, error, guilt, karma, punishment, super market
Sunday, December 23, 2018
-Trapped by Idiots
and forced to listen to their “wit!”
-Such AS?
-They acted out a little play and
nearly collapsed at the brilliantly
humorous lines!
-What happened? Since here you are!
-Tidal Wave!
-You're kidding!
-Never turn your back to the Ocean!
-They DID?
-For the whole play.
-They got carried away.
-Didn’t they?
Labels: apt conclusion, cosmic justice, entrapped, Force of Nature, idiots, impossible situation, Justice, karma, Nature, Ocean
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Old Jail Karma
New Condo
Max didn’t like the karma of leaving a couple
of cells intact in the recreation wing.
The contractors had locked their tools in one.
Renata laughed it off. “I just know we got a beautiful
new apartment! So it was a prison, full of the stink
of desperate men. That was then! Now, Mickey
and Chippy can play like mad in the old walking
yard, if that’s what they called it."
But one of the King Charles Spaniels bit a teasing child,
and a law suit appeared in their mailbox.
Then Chippy started staggering and the vet thought
it was something he ate, or was fed him.
And after Mr Hogart, retired shop teacher, was mugged
in their apartment’s vicinity, they started staying in
more.
Renata’s Brother came and mounted a 60 inch TV on
the beige wall.
“This place is built!” he proclaimed. “What the hell, it was
a fortress.”
Max joined the newly formed Condo Watch Group,
“Though I’m nearly under indictment, or something.”
R. Rindle, the lawyer, settled, though, so that the problem
went away.
“The amount is reasonable, but I won’t tell you exactly
until the siege calms down. Medical look at the brat,
and not all that much more.”
The couple got caught up in their activities, so began to
get out quite a bit more. Max heading up the watch group
in their wing, and Renata taking Thai cooking lessons in the
beautiful kitchen next to the cells.
Max started playing pool with some of the watch guys
on the lovely red table outside the kitchen.
They both walked the spaniels and chatted with the
new move-ins and the relative veterans.
“Still bad karma, but everywhere is.”
“Karma-shmarma!” she answered. “We worked like dogs
to get here. I’m for enjoying life, and the hell with
everything else!”
Labels: condo, karma, prison, retirement
Friday, November 02, 2012
When Our Office Mgr Vacations,
ocean remains calm
per directions, am-
bient air as Gold-
ilocks, therefore
not warm nor chill.
Later mountains likewise
behave, filling his camera
with pixelled serenity of
repetitious snowcaps
replacing flat seas.
Even the wildflowers
order themselves in-
to a spinster’s garden.
Last, though, Vegas,
where women
find him
out. Ditto booze,
cornucopia drugs
and Blackjack.
He has returned, boy-
babbler of high exploits
at bed and table. Office
runs itself, with predict-
able results. When half
the copiers bust at
once, we push rehab
on the now-depressive.
Of course, the exact record
re Vegas’d help psychiatrists,
but he sold the camera there,
and scrubbed the chip of sin
for a concluding whack at it.
Well, long story short, how
he’s carted away and half
the down copiers
suddenly race!
We learned it’s all of it
Karma, Baby!
Business model, in any case,
more discrete. Thus, probably,
Karma, Colleague.
ocean remains calm
per directions, am-
bient air as Gold-
ilocks, therefore
not warm nor chill.
Later mountains likewise
behave, filling his camera
with pixelled serenity of
repetitious snowcaps
replacing flat seas.
Even the wildflowers
order themselves in-
to a spinster’s garden.
Last, though, Vegas,
where women
find him
out. Ditto booze,
cornucopia drugs
and Blackjack.
He has returned, boy-
babbler of high exploits
at bed and table. Office
runs itself, with predict-
able results. When half
the copiers bust at
once, we push rehab
on the now-depressive.
Of course, the exact record
re Vegas’d help psychiatrists,
but he sold the camera there,
and scrubbed the chip of sin
for a concluding whack at it.
Well, long story short, how
he’s carted away and half
the down copiers
suddenly race!
We learned it’s all of it
Karma, Baby!
Business model, in any case,
more discrete. Thus, probably,
Karma, Colleague.
Labels: business, karma, model, office, organization
Saturday, December 17, 2011
A Virtual Wichita
When Missy was seven her father took a foreman's job at Cessna in Wichita. They lived temporarily in Delsen's Boarding House where she had to perform being a good little girl at the dining room table with Miss Carruthers, retired
elementary teacher, Jingo Reilly, traveling construction boss, and others.
The neighborhood featured Merkin's Homemade Candies, and Mrs Merkin would cut you a sliver of rich fudge as a gift.
Missy avoided the shop when she saw Mr Merkin behind the counter for he was not quite as generous, insisting you pay
a penny for the principle of the thing.
Missy certainly had a penny but felt uneasy near
Mr Merkin’s sermons.
Her most lasting impression of the boarding house came
late at night with Chuck Greeson from the Chrysler agency,
and Lowery's Last Stop, trudging up the stairs cursing, bumbling into chairs, eventually dropping his heavy shoes
on the floor, one after the other.
One hot evening, only one dropped. She and older sister
Lil whispered of the absent other shoe.
It proved the last night there as her parents had rented
an apartment near the plant.
When she tells the story to new boyfriend she calls
Silicon Maxy-Mac, he informs her she must get that
second shoe to drop, that such incompleteness has
made bad karma since.
He therefore devises a virtual Wichita. For the shoe he synthesizes several catalog sounds, but they will not do.
He then fills a sneaker with coins, stuffs newspaper in
to keep them from shifting.
Buys the best fudge in Sunnyvale.
His research reveals Prairie Dog Philosopher led
nighttime radio ratings. So he records a corny poem
about looking a man in his face and seeing your own
if both are honest. Then a raucous Jerry Lee Lewis!
Comes the critical night he gets Missy to relax and
close her eyes, hand feeds her crumbles of fudge
while playing the radio segment at low volume and
in buzzy offstage mode. He then shoves chairs around
and, after about ten beats, mounts a table and drops
the weighted sneaker.
Next morning, Missy decides to run. Been developing
a small pot.
After, sweaty and panting, she cruises the kitchen
looking for something healthy for breakfast.
Her sister texts her from Wichita: sad! cndyldy x-(
omg u luvd hr!
When Missy was seven her father took a foreman's job at Cessna in Wichita. They lived temporarily in Delsen's Boarding House where she had to perform being a good little girl at the dining room table with Miss Carruthers, retired
elementary teacher, Jingo Reilly, traveling construction boss, and others.
The neighborhood featured Merkin's Homemade Candies, and Mrs Merkin would cut you a sliver of rich fudge as a gift.
Missy avoided the shop when she saw Mr Merkin behind the counter for he was not quite as generous, insisting you pay
a penny for the principle of the thing.
Missy certainly had a penny but felt uneasy near
Mr Merkin’s sermons.
Her most lasting impression of the boarding house came
late at night with Chuck Greeson from the Chrysler agency,
and Lowery's Last Stop, trudging up the stairs cursing, bumbling into chairs, eventually dropping his heavy shoes
on the floor, one after the other.
One hot evening, only one dropped. She and older sister
Lil whispered of the absent other shoe.
It proved the last night there as her parents had rented
an apartment near the plant.
When she tells the story to new boyfriend she calls
Silicon Maxy-Mac, he informs her she must get that
second shoe to drop, that such incompleteness has
made bad karma since.
He therefore devises a virtual Wichita. For the shoe he synthesizes several catalog sounds, but they will not do.
He then fills a sneaker with coins, stuffs newspaper in
to keep them from shifting.
Buys the best fudge in Sunnyvale.
His research reveals Prairie Dog Philosopher led
nighttime radio ratings. So he records a corny poem
about looking a man in his face and seeing your own
if both are honest. Then a raucous Jerry Lee Lewis!
Comes the critical night he gets Missy to relax and
close her eyes, hand feeds her crumbles of fudge
while playing the radio segment at low volume and
in buzzy offstage mode. He then shoves chairs around
and, after about ten beats, mounts a table and drops
the weighted sneaker.
Next morning, Missy decides to run. Been developing
a small pot.
After, sweaty and panting, she cruises the kitchen
looking for something healthy for breakfast.
Her sister texts her from Wichita: sad! cndyldy x-(
omg u luvd hr!
Labels: karma, Silicon Valley, Wichita
Monday, March 07, 2011
Death of a Racist
-His rants disappear from unfairly balanced radio.
-Thank God for any aural peace!
-And his kids turn their inheritance over to black causes!
-Other charities exist having little to do with race.
-It's justice!
-Justice can have bad karma.
-I can't see that.
-I knew you'd say that. Look beyond.
-That’s always the chicken anthem.
-So, present dogma makes good?
-I only get to live in my own time.
-But we resonate in others, for good or ill.
-Or nothing.
-It may sound like that to you.
-Big...Fat...Nothing!
-His rants disappear from unfairly balanced radio.
-Thank God for any aural peace!
-And his kids turn their inheritance over to black causes!
-Other charities exist having little to do with race.
-It's justice!
-Justice can have bad karma.
-I can't see that.
-I knew you'd say that. Look beyond.
-That’s always the chicken anthem.
-So, present dogma makes good?
-I only get to live in my own time.
-But we resonate in others, for good or ill.
-Or nothing.
-It may sound like that to you.
-Big...Fat...Nothing!
Labels: karma, Race, racist, Right Wing Radio
