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If you ask our NewsMax, America One fueled, republican congressmen
who won the last presidential election - they’ll pretend that they don’t know.
But hey, these are the guys, the “honest brokers” we can trust, to figure out UFOs.

These republicans disavow Trump’s clear treason. If they refuse to follow those clues,
like video captured by the guilty themselves - how can their UFO “hearings” fail to amuse?

It’s a shrewd political distraction, a republican red-herring, to put vague “aliens” in the news
just when Trump's lawyers are figuring out which prison facility he should choose.

In this circus of misinformation, we’re offered unproven decades of government collusion,
heck, we even have that RFK.jr nut insisting that the alien saucers are full of jews.

Of course, the aliens must be from distant galaxies - in their new breed of flying saucers -
why else would they be turning down so many lucrative showbiz offers?

Will it turn out that the cute, little, ET-guys are here conducting interstellar analysis?
Stay tuned. Have the aliens come to eat us - should we be frozen in fearful paralysis?
Or will our republican overlords, so busy removing our freedoms, decide it’s time to save us?

There’s no long proven, scientific fact that the newer, dumber, Republicans haven’t disputed,
maybe the UFOs were sent back from the future, their mission: study primitive human stupid.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Disavow: to refuse to acknowledge”
All these little poems
Memories, mist
Si, Las palabras
Memories twist

San Francisco fog
Sausalito on my bike
20th reunion
She speaks with Mike

Never saw Johnny Cash
Never saw BB King
Now I live alone
Lost my wedding ring

Seattle in the snow
I walk alone
2 years of Latin
Honeymoon in Rome

          God? Unknown.
The band was loud, but in the other room and the bar was jammed.
He set his drink down a little too hard and it over-sloshed a bit.

“Run away with me,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “I’m done with school!”
“Well.. you graduated - that’s why you’re done,” she said, somewhat amused.
“We share a gravity, you and I - we’re.. we’re like aligned suns,” he romanticized.
“You should’ve majored in sales.” she said, sipping her own beer.
“Our love is so real, so raw - it's pure and yet - so street.”
“We have ‘love cred’?” She asked doubtfully.
“Wherever we go, we'll navigate that urban maze, hand in hand, we’ll OWN those concrete streets, we’ll paint our own graffiti!
“Have you snorted something?’
“No matter what life throws at us, we’ll face those challenges head-on and we'll stay united.”
“Have you been practicing this?” She asked
“We’ll swagger,” he said, “our love will be timeless..”
“And rhymeless,” she interjected hopefully.
“Together, we’ll be urban legends..” he continued.
“Like Bonnie and Clyde?” she asked, making a yuck face.
“We’ll be living art,” he said dreamily.
“Sounds dope.” She admitted.
“Then you’ll DO it?” He asked.
“Until Monday,” she said, nodding in assent, “classes start on Monday,” she shrugged.
“It was worth a shot.” he said stoically, after a moment.
“It was a good pitch,’” she said, taking his hand in hers.
“I didn’t oversell - I wasn’t too pushy?”
“No, you were right there,” she assured him.
“Maybe next time,” he said.
“Yeah, maybe next time”
They kissed.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Stoic: to show little or no emotion in a painful or distressing situation.
New York is cold at night
Fly me to the moon
I admit, I admit
A bit mesmerized by Dune

Marguerite Porete
Giordano Bruno
Georgetown's Dahlgren Chapel
Silently do who know

I wish we could talk
Just tell her unvarnished truth
Lost in Translation
Lost since my youth

                      Kyoto!
~
Dead ahead
The target is always
On a similar horizon
It's about surviving
Every blasted thought
More than eliminating all threats
When they strike
They form castellated holes
That network new fears
To long existing trauma
Careening off the deep seams of life
In intervals of jagged breath
I become part of the debris
A genuine tourist attraction
The size of a crater
Even after nothing else
Remains of my former self

~
The cocktail waitress in the corner

Tonight she skates at Roller City

In polka dots and ponytails

Her lips pursed and polished

For she disapproves of most everything that offers little reflection

No bringing your own music

No pinching the dancers

She moves to a secret sound

Regarding herself as an international spy

In the house of fun
I see ibicies on alpine slopes,
large curved horns coming almost
full circle. I descry mountain
hawks on the wing that descry
more than I. Bears I do not
see, for they are lost in their
own sleep, not on slopes, but
in slumber;  the number of deer
is in actuality many, but I
have not earned the right to
discern more than few.
Vision is a funny thing:  we
tend to infer from the many
we can see reality, but this
is illusory. Our sight we feel
can be enhanced by glasses
microscopic or telescopic,
but sight is not insight;  seeing
is not knowing. The intellect
sees that all are different,
wisdom that all are one. The
ibex knows the mountain is
deeper than it is high.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Take a walk through my mind
See what there is to see
You'd be shocked at what you'd find
Lurking inside of me.

Walls of wrought iron and cold steel
Higher that you'd ever expect
If you made it passed and saw what they reveal
You'd see memory lane - forgotten and derelict

A castle beyond - rising through the clouds above
Far off in the distance can be seen
Seemingly robbed of joy and love
Just before you a forest green

The trees are wide their canopies dark
They blacken out the sky
You can not even see a spark
As it flashes in their eyes

You feel surrounded and yet there's nothing
As you traverse the haunted place
This is where dreams die - your blood is rushing
You look back as if you're being chased

Your heart is pounding harder now -
Than it ever has before
They can only hurt you if you allow
Them to sink into your core

You hear water you realize
As you quicken the pace
Suddenly you see the skies
And a very lovely place

A field of ash trees in the dwindling light of day
A clear babbling brook
Many sprites and other fae
Like a scene out of a charming book

They sing a song that sounds like spring
As you watch them play
They spin around in a mushroom ring
A beautiful display

They lead you through a final copse of trees
There you find the road
The fae are carried away on the breeze
Their favor on you bestowed

As you walk the sun sets
Shadows are all around
The darker it is the quieter it gets
Your heart the only sound

You kick along a cobblestone
As the harvest moon rises high
You feel utterly alone
Then you see a raven in the sky

If you follow it all the way home
It will lead you straight to me
To the castle I built on my own
Was the time worth the journey?
Flower filled with pink
Silently standing tall
Cold water runs in vase
Holding hues so vibrant
Molding new leaves
Precious flower in
My yard
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