Saturday, June 16, 2018
The Feminine View of History
-Have you watched World Cup?
-Dive-o-rama? Wouldn’t miss it!
-Not since nuns acted out minor biblical
stories, has there been such excitement!
-Be still my heart! But there IS... extraordinary footwork, yes?
-Any collection of ragamuffins does
it as well.
-At any rate, the Greats are even greater
dramatists.
-Like common schnooks fetching the mail and slipping. But then the horrible PAIN!
-Passing o’er their supremely ugly brillo-
bearded faces!
-Academy-Fuckin-Award!
-And often it’s a phantom fall with no
other nun in the vicinity.
-The facial distortions even worse then!
-What a thoroughgoing girly-girly fraud!
-And they wonder why it doesn’t catch
on here?
-We have our politics. Where men are
whiny broads also.
-And the women more butch than men!
-The former should learn this Fairy Soccer!
-Oh no! Heavens to Betsy! That would
so SO! frighten the European cream puffs whilst they flop!
Labels: "football", Academy Award, acting, diving, feminine, flopping, footwork, fraud, men, soccer, women
Wednesday, June 03, 2015
Ireland votes gay
to shame
a bloodied church.
Which can always fall back, as
if such forever possible, on hate
the sin, and love the sinner.
Who can tell the difference, really?
Yeats said it, as you’d expect,
better, with his dancer-dance.
Preceded by O brightening glance!
And you don’t get many of them
to the pound, do you suppose
he was Bardic everywhere? Say the wife
finally shrieking? “For Jesus Christ’s Sake,
tell me in plain words what you fancy
for dinner!” Or in the pub dissecting
our disgraceful team, maybe saying
The Little Sisters of the Poor’d beat ‘em?
Well, that is poetic, the image
of a wave of nuns advancing
to our goal, concealing, one after
other, the ball in black folds!
Before the coup de grace
of our final humiliation!
Our keeper giving his best
imitation of a man. Or ass.
Labels: Bard, Catholic Church, football, Gay Marriage, Ireland, poetic language, soccer, Yeats
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Praising America
Patriot’s Sundae
I didn't worry that the Administration and its
fierce Party labeled my unemployment
insurance as a crippling entitlement against
the whole country.
But then, they persuaded Congress to eliminate the
program on the philosophical ground that it lacked
the real starving possibility that got folks off their ass.
Thus, yet another blow to natural laziness.
No problem with this last here. Our shop had work
out the door and stretching to Kalamazoo!
Overtime mandatory, which was fine with me.
Was. Whole shebang to Latvia. Our labor just too costly.
Sometimes, you get the chance to give back wages?
But not in this case.
After a couple of months, when the old government
handout would’ve come in handy, and we exhausted
our savings, and our daughters couldn't play soccer
because we couldn't afford the uniforms, I landed
on my feet at Dollar-O-Rama!
The best thing here: we buy up the food that
supermarkets throw away, and some WE actually
throw away. Well, no more! That last goes to OUR table.
My wife last week took a smashed blueberry pie and
blended it with her homemade yogurt. Great!
We called it our Patriot’s Sundae.
The girls bragged about it, and we had to stand up
at their next game. The announcer said that praising
us was praising America!
Labels: Dollar Store, food, lazy, patriotism, soccer, starvation, sundae, supermarket, Unemployment Compensation, unemployment insurance
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Doing the International Flop
Where Sport Transcends
Hey Beano! Let’s attend
the Great Flop-o-reeno!
We call it Soccer, they,
Football. And O, insane,
the grimacing, the pain!
You’d think: next to
excruciating death!
These vile, trashy frauds!
Not Sport, but “Tragic” Art?
Like Mais freakin oui!
Labels: exaggeration, flopping, football, soccer
Monday, February 18, 2013
“Not So Super Mario”
The name hung on him
by the Irish woman,
also here to learn the new
series of switches.
He shunned her, a bitch,
pure and simple, who cut
all for even innocent takes.
During the Super Bowl frenzy
he wore a Baltimore jersey.
Only he and Group’s basic
“Drama Queen” did so.
From something this silly,
a bond formed and they,
despite warnings, dated.
She couldn’t fathom his
fascination for what she
called soccer. “Like ballet
with the Prima Ballerina
shrieking in pain over
a hangnail.” He explained
that what she further labeled
Academy Award! was similar
to her frequent protestations
for justice and equity.
Didn’t wash, so he gave up.
His attention seized,
anyway, by her performances
bordering on egregious. Such
disturbed others; he simply repeated
to her how lovely she was in everything.
When it grows time to leave,
she floats following him, now
loses that idea quickly without
his really weighing in.
Back in Bolzano, how her emails flood!
Then hop, diminish, and stop.
Two old uncles visit. They have found
a bride for him. He thanks them, but de-
tails how such rituals have truly lost force
in such a cosmopolitan area. But
certainly they will meet!–out of
respect for their love and position.
The photo shows her to be pretty.
And reserved. That proves
the clincher finally.
The name hung on him
by the Irish woman,
also here to learn the new
series of switches.
He shunned her, a bitch,
pure and simple, who cut
all for even innocent takes.
During the Super Bowl frenzy
he wore a Baltimore jersey.
Only he and Group’s basic
“Drama Queen” did so.
From something this silly,
a bond formed and they,
despite warnings, dated.
She couldn’t fathom his
fascination for what she
called soccer. “Like ballet
with the Prima Ballerina
shrieking in pain over
a hangnail.” He explained
that what she further labeled
Academy Award! was similar
to her frequent protestations
for justice and equity.
Didn’t wash, so he gave up.
His attention seized,
anyway, by her performances
bordering on egregious. Such
disturbed others; he simply repeated
to her how lovely she was in everything.
When it grows time to leave,
she floats following him, now
loses that idea quickly without
his really weighing in.
Back in Bolzano, how her emails flood!
Then hop, diminish, and stop.
Two old uncles visit. They have found
a bride for him. He thanks them, but de-
tails how such rituals have truly lost force
in such a cosmopolitan area. But
certainly they will meet!–out of
respect for their love and position.
The photo shows her to be pretty.
And reserved. That proves
the clincher finally.
Labels: arranged marriage, Drama Queen, Irish, Italian, office, soccer, Super Mario, tradition
Tuesday, November 06, 2012
It’s too late now to come
weeping on my shoulder
Oh I don’t know:
Damp Act being
rather timeless.
Like betrayal of
rock n’ roll love.
Or World Cup
dives in soccer.
weeping on my shoulder
Oh I don’t know:
Damp Act being
rather timeless.
Like betrayal of
rock n’ roll love.
Or World Cup
dives in soccer.
Labels: betrayal.diving, football, love, rock n' roll, soccer, World Cup
