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Danny Valdez Jan 2012
He woke up
next to the empty spot
where Wonder Woman had been.
He puked in the toilet
slammed down a forty-ounce Miller High Life
and started putting the suit on.
boots
the gray and black tights
the gloves
the yellow utility belt
and the cape.
It was leather.
He put the cowl
under his arm and left his apartment.
It was a late start
nearly noon
by the time
the bus got him to
Mann's Chinese Theater.
He saw a lot of his
friends and colleges
as the bus went down to his stop.
It was a regular day
all the characters were
in their usual little groups.
Spider-Man & Captain America
two Mormon boys that had been
excommunicated from the church
they got caught **** *******
each other
now they were stuck in Hollywood
like everyone else.
The X-Men
or H-Men as most people called them
were a group of junkies.
One of them had a cousin at Fox
and they got four replica X-Men costumes.
So that's how they scored
their junk everyday
garnered pretty good tips from the tourists.
Cyclops, Jean-Grey, Storm, and Wolverine.
It was a good grift. **** good idea.
Then you had the impersonators
plastic surgery freaks
obsessed with Michael Jackson
creepy bald men dressed as Dr. Evil
and there was always
a lazy fat guy
that would do Elvis.
Not know any of the songs
and saying the catch phrases all wrong,
"Well, thank you Ma'am....thank you so much."
Those guys never lasted too long.
The cutesy cartoon characters
were almost always
pedophiles or ******* ladies.
The horror people were hands down
the most bat-**** insane of the lot.
They got into the most fights
they terrorized the kids
and they talked a lot of ****.
Would bate guys into fights.
Michael Myers would always start ****
with guys that had beautiful women with them.
It was ****** up.
The LAPD took away Freddy Kruger last month
for beating up a guy
right in front of his kids.
There was talk from the cops
about shutting down their whole thing down.
Making it illegal to dress up in costumes
and get tips.
'Panhandling' as the office had said.
But
Batman hung out with
Superman & Wonder Woman
while doing his thing.
The night before
Wonder Woman and him
had been drinking, smoking, and
they ****** once
before she asked him
what she needed to.
"We got two new guys starting tomorrow."
"What?"
"Yeah. They came up to me on the street today,
wanted to know if they could hang with us."
"Wha? What? Well...do they have costumes?"
"Yeah." She said, exhaling smoke, wrapped in the sheet on the bed.
"These guys got a Green Lantern and a Robin costume. Really good quality,
they showed me pictures. Hey, you finally got a Robin now! Isn't that great?"
"****...I don't know Diana...I was kinda liking our little *******.
"Oh come on, Bruce. It'll be good." She said, wrapping her arms around him
as he sat on the edge of the book, looking out the window.
"We can finally get the big, group tips. Like what the H-Men got going."
"Alright. That's fine."
And the next day
there they were,
Green Lantern & Robin.
Wonderful costumes, like she said
their hair color and overall appearance
spot on.
"Hey there!"
"Hello. Robin. Green Lantern."
Their gloved hands all shook.
They got acquainted and he couldnt help but like them.
Nice guys, musicians, Rockabilly guys, from Venice.
They went out into
the crowd of people
Superman's voice booming over the crowd
telling everyone that they're safe from
evil and wrong doers, blah, blah, blah,
the usual ******* that Superman always said.
Batman yelled to Robin over the enclosing crowd.
They were now fully entrenched by people
fat & sweaty
Batman's panic attack took over.
"COME ON!" He shouted over the rising crowd noise.
The dynamic duo
shoved & pushed
parting the sea of fat tourists
and breaking out onto the sidewalk.
"What's up, Batman?" Robin asked
looking up to him.
The size difference was just like in the comics
Robin was a little guy.
"I just needed to get outta there. Let's go take a lap
down Hollywood Boulevard...see what kinda cash we can grab."
"Okay, Batman."
They walked
up and down
the walk of fame
posing for a few pictures
making some kids day
with wide-eyed excitement
that will be with them forever.
They made forty bucks too.
"Alright, that's good for now. Let's grab a beer, Robin."
It was a small dive
on Hollywood Boulevard
they were two beers in
and Robin was learning a lot
about how Hollywood really was.
Some real talk from Batman to Robin.
"Yup. I moved out here in 1997. I saw that movie 'Swingers' and I thought...
I could do that, that could be my life, I want that."
"And what happened Bats?"
"Well...I came out here, went to film school, did everything I was told, and...
I still got ******." He said, taking a long pull from the bottle.
"Well what happened exactly?"
Robin's green glove, gripping the brown bottle
tilting it back, bubbles rising
"Well...ya see...when I was in film school, the instructors all told us...you either do your internship here in Hollywood or go to New York. Anywhere else and you won't be able to make it. That's what they said."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. So I did my internship here in Hollywood and it was for nothing. The whole two years that I was at Faramount, I was never allowed to even touch any film equipment. Well, just to dust it off and clean it. But they didn't even try to teach me anything there. I just did food runs at lunch, got them their Starbucks in the morning, and took out the trash. Swept the parking lot, cleaned the toilets, I was a ******* janitor at that place. And you know what happened next?"
"Huh?"
"One day they just fired me. Just like that. After two years of being their ***** boy. So now I have $50,000 in student loans that I can't pay back, and a degree that got me nowhere."
"****." Robin said, finishing his beer.
"Yeah. So what do you do?"
"I'm in school for audio engineering."
"Ah...the music business eh?"
"Yeah, Batman."
"Hmm."
Batman grew silent then, just finishing his beer, and staring into the mirrored wall.
He wanted to say,
"I have 117 scripts sitting in a stack next to my t.v. That's eight screenplays a year. Robin, I've been at this for fourteen years and it doesn't get any better. I never stop trying and I keep at it, year after year. But I'm done. Get out while you
still can Robin. This city will eat you, **** you, **** you. If you still have a home, I suggest you go back to it."
Batman sat there, his beer finished, still staring straight ahead.
Robin pulled out a ten dollar bill, smiling, calling for the bartender
with that sparkle in his eye
of youth and hope.
He didn't want to say all that ****
crush that gleam in Robin's eye
like he once had.
Those were the best days
the great days
the glory days
to be young, handsome, poor, and hopeful
that you could make it
that it could happen.
So Batman didn't say another word about it.
Nope.
There were things
Robin would have to learn all on his own.
JR Morse Sep 2013
this swifter's grift -
lifting loosely
fitted accoutrement

lourden fruit
carelessly held
silkened, gimlet lit
shamelessly rivened
to a paler shade
of need.

solitude's
enchanting seed
may confer
a grander banquet’s call
but, this tug of
grandiloquent oblige
and politesse . . .

master and slave consort
black and scarlet
swift of tongue and fingertip
unbound so neatly
and leather blind



tell me muse of the anger flesh on fire
is there really dignity in defeat
that eludes the victor

tell me muse of the truth in nature
ill-graced tail-lamp broken
is destiny all ways ordained in contradiction

tell me muse do hearts all times submit
to the beacon call
shyness long forgotten
narrative so harshly written

as ne'er before
with an insistence
ageless yearnings bellow  
as but glazened shadow


if reason sleeps
there will be no learning
no refuge
only to each
for their crimes
a four-chambered riddle



All Rights Reserved
James R. Morse, NYC  2013.
"The higher we fly, the smaller we appear to those who cannot."
How do you swindle the light?
This would be the greatest grift.
An ongoing experimental conn
where we all remember,
who the mark(s) is,
pretending, just in case,
behind the curtain,
sleight of hand,
behind the back,
if there is no wizard in the back seat,
just in case...you'll tell the kids:
'it was all for them.' So they could sleep.

Childhoods are just safe houses for hope.
In play roles come easy,
in assortments, and unpackages, separate;
but everyone knows the rules,
their part, they remember
that fairness is sacred to play.
Some games get played
and some gamers’ play is accidental.
The game like the carnival is vacuous,
inhaling all into its eye,
exhaling into its calm, swindles like a carney,
jettisoning all into the extinction of gratification.

The mystery lies in the conspiracy.
System can beat game, house, odds,
conn the conn and you can go home a winner.
The Universe is a big casino, you see.
And all you have to do is get up from the table,
cash in your chips, and figure out where your car is.
The house always wins, you’ll say.
But therein lies the reason we play.
Which you're sure to figure out in the lot,
cramped delineations garner thought,
you'll realize that therein lies nowhere.



The conspiracy lies in the abyss,

A place where villagers lose their cattle,
Costumed & uniformed, singing gray prayers.
Crop circles are diasporic clusters of hope.
Where science fiction invented the cold war,
Between ghosts created by radio waves.
A mass hallucination produced by trauma?
Dellusion v. Illusion
Nurturist v. Naturist v. Projection,
As long as it’s a weapon!
Destination unknown-
But just in case, let’s create something that can destroy us all.
Eryri Oct 2018
There was death and gore,

During the second world war.

Many people died in extreme violence,

Killed before they could call out to loved ones.

Young men were trained to ****,

Often against their morals and will.

So when I see your 1940s weekend -

Your 'war was fun and cosy' pretence,

Your clichéd polyester and fibre glass mockery,

Aiming to re-enact a mostly imagined happy-go-lucky camaraderie -

Forgive me for not joining in,

As I happen to feel it a cardinal sin,

To idealise and romanticise a decade,

Made up of austerity, rationing and air raids.

I've read a little social history,

The 1940s were not idyllic or crime-free,

Just as now, there were heroes and villains,

Among the soldiers and civilians.

Heroism abounded but so did black marketeering,

There were brave sacrifices but also racketeering.

City-wide black-outs were a gift,

To those who would rob and grift.

Your jolly nostalgic tribute is an annual celebration,

Celebrating your own fabrication,

Of a time when the machinations of war and a crazed ideology,

Saw the near extinction of an entire ethnic minority.

I do not wish to be a party pooper,

But don't just step into the fake shoes of a fictional trooper,

Please occasionally remove your rose-tinted glasses,

To remember that beyond your nostalgic narrative of the routines of the masses,

People lived with the daily fear,

Of the likely deaths of people they held dear.
A little bitter and exaggerated perhaps.
the ladies oh the ladies louder now

celebrate christmas with a almighty roul

you see christmas is the time of the year where we party right

like drinking alcohol and get ******, yeah that is quite great

you see kids see Santa and ask them what would they like

and the ladies buy the men a cordless drill

as well as the men giving a ladies a big diamond ring

yeah we will party with the song

we wish you a jetty christams we wish you a merry christmas

and a happy new year

christmas is the time of year to Party party party

and you get some eggnog and say come on ya ****** smarty

oh dudes we will lift up our glassed and sing

to the christ child the nirvanaly king

you see christmas is the happiest time

for a happy dude like me, to enjoy life too

silent night holy night all is calm all is bright

round yon ****** mother and child

once in royal davids city the party is on for young and old

as santa goes a travelling through the computer

giving presents to everyone there

and then on the first day of christmas my truelove gave to me

a dollar so i buy a homeless man his tea

if that isn’t enough, how about just leave it in his hat

so he could add it up  and buy many more dinners from all the money he raised

away in a manger no crib for a bed

the little lord buddha laid down his sweet head

he would wake up and say, i control the 3 kings of orient are

i bare gifts as i travel afar

i am dreaming of a white christmas, well stop cause in Australia it’s too **** hot

for it’s the summer weather, the bbqs are lit together

as we are a walking around singing a song living in a summer wonderland

on the beach we can build a sandcastle and bury poor old patrick in the sand

and then he will jump and SHUT UP, why don’t you give your family a ****** woman a ****** hand

then we jump in the saddle nice and quick all in there with good saint nick

Feliz Navidad i want to wish a merry Christmas

i wish you a merry christmas form the bottom of my heart, i lost when my friends treat me like a criminal

six white boomers six white boomers racing good old Patrick through the blazing sun

then Patrick sent to santa what about the toys

aren’t you giving these to all the boys and girls

or are you saying that boys are better than girls like a cool kid that you are

a pair of hoppalong boots and pistol that shoots,is a gift for Patrick and Wayne

dolls that will talk and go for a walk a grift from Joanne and Paula

now dudes as i am prepared to party on dude till the break of dawn
Julian Sep 2020
DISCLAIMER: READ THE WHOLE THING IT IS MUCH MORE GENIUS TOWARDS THE END



Bypass the circumlocutions of elementary rhetoric and the obvious bulges into the ethereal realm of supersolid supercalendar emigrations of the wednongues of vogue emigrating into a new frontier of boundless awakening that blisters the sore solid metaphors of a crumbled bricolage of articulate history becoming a reiterative gabble of entropy that curdles the blood-boiling hatred of those envious of those that capitalize on the true girth rather than the flaccid otiose etymology of differential physics becoming a denatured figment of prideful imagination on a frolic with desuetude in the normalization of the wernaggles of ewnastique that defile the ridicule of even the most astute aspirations of those that despise history rather than reveling in its subtle ironies that swelter in connotation rather than suborn the cadged bridewells of those that are estranged by the Dousk Remix rather than the Voulez-Vouz Danser populism of true urbacity expanded upon a national stage as an anthem not for profligate saturnalia but rather an ode to the odium of the reckless titanism of titanic intellects clashing with the dudgeons of intermittent eye-rolling irreverence double-dealing a stacked deck of pleckigger on an intellectual stagecraft for bandwagon apostasy that leads to solidarity among tentative allegiance. We barnstorm for a grift in the grimace of an alpenglow winter to lead to the salvation of all people united under the banner of neat nexility rather than long-winded elocution reserved only for notched caliber against the nativist diatribe that serves the subservience of the engineer of the white chattel indoctrinated into turnstiles of professed irreverence for demarches of solidarity that is gainsay for gain rather than pittances for pitfall. Rhetoric should be duly curtailed against the overcomplication of hypertrophy and trimmed into the sweet success not of saccharine fads of foofaraw but engineered resistance that galvanizes albatross intellectualism into a revved engine without purpose that mobilizes because of estranged impotence in the revelry of the subtle rather than the cordial tethers of emergent entelechy of the esemplastic orthobiosis that we should all strive for not just as pioneers of the socially engineered harbingers of a remedial society but also for the trendsetters that communicate with the canvass and the celluloid rather than spelunking dormitage of drifted anomaly perceptible to everyone but heralded as prominent by the rigged ambeer of a toxicity of a plumage of city over state and country over planet. We need to provide the verdure of the verdant forest that survives the conflagrations of rage indoctrinated by systematic attempts at stilted ignorance that is engendered more by Leftism than Right-Wing thinkers because in general when observed in organic settings we notice that the Right-Wing escapes the sloganeered jaundice of limited bounds for otherwise boundless thought and provides more seminal pathways that reconcile normative virtues with entrenched inveterate harbingers of economic success. The faulty deadstocks that propel the retinoise of the anomaly among Leftism to disregard the girouettism of a world that is so piebald with dishonesty that it elects a patronage that seethes with passion but aimless in its curiosity for deeper embedded candor because the popular might count themselves among the aristocratic Left but the truly Promethean belong to a centrist tribe that borrows the ingenuity of spurned but never spurious interpretations of a sputtered history that remarks with revelry  rather than disdains with #CancelCulture irreverence that seeks to deracinate all context for insipid utopianism that is a shared prerogative of the delusional Left against their complaints of Sebastomania among right-wing zealots that are equally invalidated by the frogmarch of a dilettante history curbed in storms of a pure tempest rather than a banal reiteration of novelty phrased with participant intonation rather than blathers of whispered arbitrage ennobled by hypocrisy immune to criticism among those that crusade for economic justice without understanding formal flombricks of the true gnomic riddles of alchemy fundamental to global panoramic pleonasms becoming the aleatory vagary of admonished warning that spars against spartanism. Instead of pilfering from the exorbitant defalcation of immunized partisan bromides against the ratcheted warranty upon defective obsolescence we must coalesce around the imperious ****** of divinity bequeathing the living water of a fully-lived life that qualifies its felicity not by junctures but by an overall harmony that conforms to the finicky demands of an overly polarized complexion of dimpled conformity founded on girouettism that earns more traction than the deasil sundial emergence of brimstone rejection for alabaster limelight we must urge others to ditch the conformist utilitarian usucaption of the usufruct of manipulative sports for domineering talents suborned into inclement straits because of unwitting albatross that replicates into a fission of uniformity encapsulated in the half-assed witticisms of attempted belletrist succeeding only in alienating the noxious fumes of alveolate diminutive reduction rather than expansive detritus that scrapes the wreckage of a turmoil to build masterworks out of broken sculptures themselves indemnified from a categorical judgment by the panoramic oversight of proctored civilized ambition. We need to exhort self-education that hinges upon not a listless acquiescence to a second-exit impulsive barnacle to the urchins of brimstone because of an insipid blather of flapdoons of brittle banality because the hackencrude is an outmoded entity to the vast resources of the sizable capital of the growing power of the intelligentsia over the weakened grasp and wrangle of terminus meeting consuetude weakly enough with pleasantry to appease but ultimately a complete witwanton persiflage of sizzled destruction rather than the savory contemplation of the cotqueans of majesty derided but never derailed by terminal revivals because the generativity of the titanic original might not be a popular indoctrination but the liberated thought of the untethered is ultimately more decisive in world affairs than the synergistic hive of bees building an imperious defense against dynasty built only upon provincial hatred of hidebound illiteracy combustible into the brazen bravado of a reckless intrepid effrontery against civilized chains into the ******* of complicit interconnection rather than dissolved dissolutions that solve global problems more fundamentally rather than driving through avenues of wide pressures gilded with expansive growth but ultimately bereaved by the ultimate succor of the youthful exuberance of captive audiences rather than the wily connivance of genius unbounded. God is obviously a benevolent provider of all bounties and despite the conspiracies that predicate heterodoxy the uniform mannequin of a mascot Democracy ultimately becomes a fickle bandwagon allegiance to relationship rather than a true witness to authentic ******* to a subservient relationship to a creative God synergized with energies that should exceed all galloped windlass into demarche and expose rather than rundles of ridicule interminable because of the permanence of kitsch memorial rather than living sculpture that breathes a swiveled light that beckons preened self-accountable responsibility to a dutiful matriotic duty of optimism rather than a contrarian futility of those that despise the unequal suave crackjaw dementia of the temulentia of derangement among crowds that provide fewer bounties and more deprivations calculated to indenture need rather than motivate want. We must motivate want by fueling ambition rather than quelling dissent in defensive posture because that strategy of antinomian discord is a dead-end street against an inveterate enmity that can never be fully deposed but only opposed with nominal futility raging with violence rather than seething with the motivation to reform because reform is an efficacy mobilized. Novelty of wednongue propriety grown through the heirs of drastic impertinence gilded from the siphon of lavadero hypogeiody blasphemous in bletonism that guards a piebald scrivelo because the sought dementia of an overwrought alacrity is a purpose without a terminus but an ambition soaring through scraped ice cream stratosphere that marvels at the minutiae of the civilized anthill that becomes a beehive of industry when the rationale of moral reform becomes insuperable rather than suborned into effete recursive cycles of pittances of pitfalls obsessively pondered but never solved because the fustilugianation of a forever tampered travesty is the esemplastic rejection of a categorical aim that leans of windlasses of elegance that surpass the levy of hatred and achieve sizable filagersion to squirm above the squawk upon populace rather than the consternation of an urbane but cloistered metropolitan arrogance contravened by the historical emergence of happenstance locales fostering the most well-guarded treasures of bohemian pedigree rather than dimpled resolve faffling on ergasia in bromidrosis rather than cavorting with a skeptical indoctrination by default evaded by those that equate an improbable scenario with a definitive solution to acatalepsy quandary because by reckoning with indeterminacy we grow in historical lineaments and solve global detritus by recycling the rattled brevity of promontory preens of plumage into a recursive ostentation defalcating heavily from sturdy macroeconomic proofs of the trendsetter rather than the trend and therefore grapple with profound personalized disdain rather than cordial harmony. Essentially by the logical positivism of proof we remind ourselves that obviously a chattering blather swims in tentative irony as long as it is a penultimate relativity because the lack of capstone ensures that the relevant treads beneath the mountain of rapprochement in benign endeavors to survive and thrive in definitive conclusion rather than intermediary conclusions of amnesia in jaundice. By the gnomic apothegms that guard the fortress of the demassified we have quantulated that the preposition of continuance is in fact a guarantee of the fickle supremacy of the recent and even more preponderantly the supremacy of expectancy of latent junctures that never manifest becoming a dictatorial rule of driven alacrity of wastrels that should fast from conclusive opinion and rather favor the primordial fabric of the inveterate truths rounded by the conversion of alchemy solidified by calculated canon converging with esoteric apartheid against the simultagnosia of the simpleton drivel of primordial myths bowdlerized from history neither lewd nor depraved but moribund because of the conclusive ****** of a peremptory intermediary certainty predicating a more precise foresight. The lackluster luster of numinous foghorn subliminal graft is a nativist confusion of legionnaire mettle swaddled by the cosseted grasp of interminable boundaries that demarcate linear time even when supersolid filigrees of elemental confusion erratically swerve into oblivion that becomes a forestalled happenstance so hapless that the connivance of alveolate synergies necessarily precludes event from becoming indelible because the tentative judgment wallops the tributary incontinence of the warble of axiolative jaundice materialized by crystalline fabrication neutered by soundbyte sclerotic calculus inveterate in summations of conclusion only because of peremptory weights upon geometric certainties rather than logarithmic dampers of attenuation that spar against spartan priggish epithets upon the flamboyant grit of grisly specter of speculative sepulchral venal vanity. The timberlask cineaste irony of the partisan usucaption of sapwood is a pirated timber of startled alarm becoming a useful or useless cacophony of barnstorm for the deadstock of past cadasters of rigmarole in the docimasy of pretense in impartial circumstance in specialized oratory bounded by a hemmed bailiwick of verdure denatured by the flombricks of subtle persuasion that ignores minority fringes of opinion that occupy that majority that cowcatchers brush aside rather with cruel contemptuous unkempt slippery agenda for drivel that spawns ingeminated redoubled explosions in participle bias rather than conglomerate arraignment of arrayed brooked swamps turgid not with the pettier travesty but the charade of a brokered ceremonial calculation against the wrikpond spurious by degeneration into corruptible complicity that thrives in obscurantism but never obscurity when the omnified owns a capitalized swiftboat of never a temulentia but always an optimism in the curvature of lineaments into the self-educated shepherd of the ultimate autarky rather than insubordination in the scrappy schlep of demographic ripples of swift enrichment at great personal flops in the floppy disk of a Democratic enrichment rather than a parched rectiserial hidebound tome. A quirky time stanched by tomes of patricide against family ingratiated by parrots to anthem but lacking the lettered verve of ignoble but parsed parsecs of finite light captivated into prismatic conscience we launch the demerited ploys of foible into the heralded controversy rather than the unheralded mercenary hands behind dogmatic ripostes livid because of the suave prestidigitation of the sublime mastery of the syncopated irony of mismatch attuned to radical rhythm we become bloated slaves to a rich lineage decried widely in attempts of covert coup raxes of a largesse of continual primipara perversions of courted cotqueans of uxorious justice that by defalcating from tributary orthobiosis in specious conjecture esteemed by rattled martexts aspiring for fraternal solidarity with the ****** esteem masquerading as the auctioned flivver that the merchandise of fluminous optimism cannot be an effusive blanch of blarney bolstered by bumptious bromides of brunt blackmail but rather the artform of subterfuge needs the insidious and invidious traction of creepy Thriller subtlety to garner the vapid traction of immobilized discontent foster to malcontent rarely abridged by even the most polite courtesy of diplomacy because of inherently insatiable demand that it skulks in undetected quarters flexing in the shadowy penumbra of transparent crackjaw enigma becoming an obvious blister or a gabble of raw jaundice sweltering into thermolysis by the eventual convergence rather than the improbable divergence of fissile time beckoning its own flashy revolution while denaturing the very presence of delusion as a herald more of the authenticity of animadversion rather than the sclerotic carapace of ragged asphyxiation in the aplomb whisper entombed forever by milquetoast inefficacy in hypersensitivity rather than a flourished malfeasance of a predatory grip upon seizure among catatonic graves of incontinence braving tribulation for crucibles of the most prosodemic surgeries of the furtive froward recalcitrance of deliberation in ignominy that enables that transmogrified skyscraper of Titanic lies to become a sunken vessel of harbored prestige lost on penultimate dice rather than winning pokerish villiany. Essentially the jeer of Morel Under a Disco is a winning brandished authority to chug the capers of inscrutable difference in blandishment imposture to cavort with an elegant plot twist that enthralls abiding decay to revert into a primordial confidence of livelihood to deter the frogmarch of time into the despairing quagmires of a livid balkanization of a simultagnosia of ageotropic monoideism fomented on fervor that leads to the paralysis of privacy and the expedited furor of moribund depraved proclivity so that the offset of morale and rationale can outfit civilization to brave the tempests of cordial divisions cemented by courtesy in order to safeguard against the yeggs of paranoia seeking ultimately the craven caper of disillusioned subconsciously felt retraction of indelible deeds into evaporated constructs that vanish too quickly to spawn the vigor of a cadged and utilitarian expanse of reiterative generativity that sustains the spanned sapience of primordial alacrity to ensure that brevity in outlook becomes longevity in subsistence because without a logical positivism grounded in unshakable tenets of God the demoralization of the vast majority is ensured and entombed in aimless squalor that leads to sheepish temerity compounded by wistful latency in regretful regression rather than a spandex bluster of a bravado of obesity to weather the persnickety wednongues of perdurable badges of instinctual shame slandered into prima facie denatured transmogrified cultures seeking cosmogony out of ordinary bricolage because the eventful triage of the nimble eludes parochial sight while the vastly capable outfox and outpace with such frenetic verve that they fasten against accident and transcend against heterochrony in ridicule that the unseasonable but seminal sauce flavors better the partially indentured optimism of a curated matriotism better than it serves the obviously interminable cycle of listless demiurges of malcontent that fuel conflagration rather than reformation to their own remorseful peril. Thereby, it is obviously concluded that to micromanage a society you must exert the capacity of a selective magnetism obviously predicated on demassified capacities for oaths of gratitude to endear and endure in the humane heart for the majority that sway few but encounter many that they find proper scruple grounded on axiomatic God to sustain not a lifeless priggish inclination but a bounded felicity that is not a carapace of an indigenous and insidious decadence to the extent pursuits of happiness swelter among the marginalized majority bereaved in powerless squalor slave to temptation not to derelict fascination but to provide aim to aimlessness and predicate their worldviews not on Racial Identity Theory which postulates too many counterintuitive pessimisms that are essentially neutered fustilug predicates of a world that requires such drastic seismic reforms in societal dynamics that the earthquake capable of such a realignment would exceed a 10.5 on the Richter scale which is 32x more powerful than the biggest earthquake in recorded history that would be so catastrophic in its implicit implication of the pretense that the consummation of the theory achieves the traction necessary to jostle every crowd into alignment that the collateral damage would endanger the very integrity and vitality of the Republic itself while exerting a tremendous existential dread of radical permutation that enables many travesties that abnegate the prerogatives of a privileged society in search of a facetiously engineered impossible utopia that could only be achieved by a dictatorial authoritarianism working in concert with benumbed sloganeering to engineer pessimism and malcontent rather than nurture the fair-natured optimism of a society that flourishes because it assumes naturally that the universe conspires in the favor of prosperity. If any hint of casuistry is evident in these postulates I wouldn’t be surprised but for rhetorical sanctity it is necessary for a nation bereaved of national icons not to despise the captive imagination of tyrannical transparency but grow from the liberating and partially liberal parable of a life maximized in limber for romantic enthralled growth that heralds with due consideration the paragons of time with reverence rather than soundbyte enslavement of parochial interminable twinges of a newborn and widely shared collective guilt of a decisively antinomian and pessimistic view on the evolution of human societies beyond catchy kitsch verve nexilities of bravado mutilating thirsts for inclusive mandates that are Boa Constrictors prowling with serpentine vitriol to vastly over-represent extreme fringes to dissuade nuclear families in an overt ploy of depopulation because the truer pathway to liberation is one that feeds the hot hand in the casino and bets that the winners will always win by deregulating their ability to bet large sums because of a transcendent supersolid mastery of time that the march and demarche of a boundless prosperity gouged by the fair demands of egalitarianism enables the card counter to achieve such a decisive advantage that his indentured socially coerced eleemosynary inclination to feed the flock endures throughout all epochs because of the necessary and incumbent scruples of God-fearing men to distribute their winnings won by cheating time to conquer time itself.
Mark Rohlf Jan 2019
red green blue
converge to white
reveal what's true
ever of spite

yellow red blue
diverge from white
expressed in color
received in grey
or the other way

yellow red blue
converge to black
yellow cyan magenta
follow suit

reflection refraction
doppler shift

wave and photon
linger the grift
Courtesy of AskJeeves, and a special acknowledgement
to the Google search algorithm, this anachronistic Travelocity gent
lee blog, a factual fictitious vignette takes add Vonage of Samsung viz Clark Kent
incredible computer software programs and sturdy Mainframe he kin lent.

Bass sic Lee (this savvy poetic end-user) opted incorporating what he doth **** sitter
tubby both thee hottest n coolest common bots unseen that ping and skitter
n thrive within binary bitmap digital boot not embittered nor iz he a quitter
as unseen electronic/ microscopic realm, whar can tweet and twitter.

Since a countless number of applications constitute the hum maze zing
information superhighway (thank you Al Gore), this computer addict plucked on a wing
n broken kin prayer juiced a random sample per significant thing
hearty soulful itty bitty byte size flickr patented technological silent ring
tone signaling data communications packets fueling hand held devices did ping.

So many automatic, cryptic, esoteric…et cetera fiber optic pulsating stupefying vectors cross, twas impossible but to winnow down the selection process, in virtual sector
which smattering of Apps countless twenty first century human projector
where computer applications anachronistically don the following epistle like nectar
I Trump pet smart word smith re: scrivener effecter.

Shiloh Golong and describe, which Apple of my eye (amidst all the Core **** sans millions of equally omitted, yet equally appealing, enlivening, incorporating Wans
et cetera populate virtual reality) resonated within Chrome moe so mull Bing vans.

Skype in n Angry Bird n If ya need to take Avast break please Compaq to this Century21, Foursquare kilometers from Instagram Pennsylvania, who (despite kiss
sing eternal Allianz with the fountain of youth) witnessed The Birth of Cosmos - hiss
story give or take a million years, and can remember when Geico caveman dis
cover Victoria’s Secret how to make fire,
   which kept warm re: covergirl company in this now over lit Circuit City amiss.

This Earthlinked, Googly eyed (brown), Hotmail wannabe doth dwell in Dell a where valley thinking About such notions as: Airgas, Comcast, Excelon…. Veer
eye sin plus responding to interpersonal classified advertisements x spear
ment tang feigning tube be a bachelor.
   Hoop ping to dance with female stars purportedly accidently twerking ma rear.

Oh…Methinks a desperate gal from Ashley Madison, AdultFriendfinder, Badoo,
or purdy than from any other website fancies friend ship with this nebbish, goo goo
doll doting generic goofball perchance seeking somebody aesthetically attractive ta moo

Va the bowels of mein kempf imagination, thus envision, a slight shift in action Lifelock drama as fealty to fair *** necessitates discerning whom rapping or mebbe a mock
MineCraft softly (echoes SoundClound) infuse this creaky body limp as a wet sock
with a sudden jolt to beat a path to the door fast as greased lightening shard o rock.

Hmm…the sudden ruse to quick forge an invisible IdentityGuard  axe like a KickStarter, a throwback to those glorious atavistic arboreal days when fate did ensure tartar
sauce appeasing Plentyoffish edenic, idyllic, and lipstick Joyus ness n warder.

To quench thirst, now dear Rabbit Reader (unwelcome Reddit news hints
struggling to hastily springme to action upon my super attenuated like gooey mints
noggin Natwest ted yet will be let down upon discerning what issues **** as quince- rat…tat…tat…ring…ring…ring.” oh my dog – psyche does wince.

Campbell soup and please pardon moi while pullup these gangly limb
and attend to an unexpected interloper. All ike kin manage to mutter Kim
Kardashian - nothing amuse zing- comprises “oh sh…sh…Jim
me John, Shutterfly, Keeblers, Aldies, and quickly experiencing him
a lay ahs aka, the sensation of falling into an abysmally cold welled bank

Argh! Dave and Buster (two super tramping security details impossible to contact
on this Blizzard besotted day. While thoughts whir like Buzzfeed. Donald redact ******* blitz, he anoints himself styled ace of spades. Figurative cards stacked
when Sarah Palin, pledged gubernatorial endorsement Survey Monkey tracked
opposition, outliers immediately banished when the angel of Merck whacked

me upside the BirchBox size head n OkCupid (the one perched and Twitter on me right shoulder prods me to tell the truth, This har Motley Fool (holed up in his actually quite confesses to be a mailer daemon whose Pinterest constitutes prevaricating a kooky plight
while athwart his abode, which Orbitz a Chrome colored sun light

Whence, he (sometimes called Mac) keeper of this Oculus Rift;
SnapChatting with renown architects About MapQuest ting plans Lyft
ed for a SolarCity alone in the Whirled Wide Webbed wilderness a grift

Tor from Lake Woebegone, where all the women strive tubby on Youtube,
the children  Facebook endlessly amidst the global tract of teenage wasteland, ****
Rick hating, and every GoDaddy inquires WhatsApp while puzzling Rubik’s cube.
Derik M Smith Jul 2013
She came with a timble to my lumish critch
Through borms
and grups
and a large, lectish, dish

‘Don’t bore me with your seminoad you Satin-Sir said she
‘So        cobble twibe! I replied for a gal as vimbly as thee.

‘Crickets are my namesake as they grift and leem with ease
Out in the plimmelday
                         where    
  ahoppybug                  should be.


The Plimmelday with sun       and gaype
A simplement of shine and life
Forever twibe on the high and narrow
A place where burdeves fear to bite


A gate surrounds the plimmelday
But Miss Cricket will be safe
A hareth ***** and Mr. Crick

A goodfar ways away.
Leay Oct 2016
well
is
well
its best
not dwell
  or
find you
slip and trip
and hearts that blip
are are beats not
skipped
a carotid  forests well
yet
minds that drift
with
naught of grift
are harder yet
to
sell
so haggle with the
thought of cause
as through
your thoughts
you
sift
Andrew Rueter Apr 2022
We need to be putting people on planets
before there are Putin people on planets
so we can dictate a culture
free from dictators
deporting the Dutertes from the atmosphere
that burns the arrows of the Bolsonaros
there's no progressive bastion here
so we must look forward in the years
past all of the Kim Jong-uns
even though their bombs might fall soon
so we can find the Roosevelts and Kennedys
to change the scorching hell ahead we see
but those leaders are obstructed
by the not so brainy
followers of Ali Khameini
believing ancient myths and men who grift
there's so much mud to sift there's no way to lift
what keeps us from other planets
through nationalist panic
and conspiracy theories
reaching the selective hearing
of god fearing *******
calling Trump their master
and the oppressed their slaves
we need to reach other planets
but we're still stuck in the cave.
Dave Robertson Jan 2022
The traditional pattern
of a set to for Nomark is this:
against the backdrop of the giant grift
perpetrated by the grand smug *****
he firmly grasps the wrong end of the stick
which, to be fair, is waved at him enough

A poster child for impotent rage
he’ll berate the checkout staff
about a voucher that’s either expired
or, mired in labyrinthine small print,
doesn’t amount to a free diddly squat

Without the words, the means,
the agency to upbraid the bosses
he huffs home on an overcrowded bus
where not a single other ****** wears a mask
BP Fallen Jun 2014
why is it always the same
strangled strangers
that end up at this door

wretched wrench turned like crank
they burn all night until day light comes
forgiven for their indiscretions
they sleep within a flood of dopamine

while the writers write
and the preachers preach
let's invite them in and swim within these tattered torn lives
a Mötley Crüe with no given name
yet you know them at a glance
instant instantaneous

they have become we
and we has become us
these thieves thick with tongue
cleverly crafted craftsman of the grift
invite them in and swim within
the wake of fools

you fool
Timothy Fuller Dec 2015
Here in Wonderland once more,
Let me hint at whats in store,
We will talk to all our friends,
And tie up some of the loose ends.
If you wondering who is my Alice?
Go see Sarah in the palace.
I am The Hatter; mad for sure,
This rhyming thing is mine and pure.
So lets go back to before,
The Red Queen is no more.

My Alice here by my side,
On Gryphon’s wings we ride.
Going to the hills up high,
There is no better way to fly.
Looking down we see March Hare,
Bouncing around everywhere.
To and fro we watch him go,
Seeing what he has to show.
He stumbles across Mock Turtle,
Then he jumps him like a hurdle.
His toe did slip and hit his skull.
Leaving him; his senses dull.

As we reach the hilly top,
Looking down we saw the drop,
The curving ground,
We saw all around.
Cheshire cat there was waiting,
Mockingbirds his tail was baiting.
Showing his trademark grin,
He danced around Alice’s shin.
On twilight skies he did float,
His latest conquest he did gloat.
Taking candy from a goat,
Showing us his stomach bloat.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee,
Stand before us now, you see.
Still they **** upon their thumb,
Dee’s in the mouth of Tweedledum.
They offer us some milk and tea,
My Alice asked, “Is it free?”
“In wonderland all is a gift,”
I state, “Just like Gryphon and his lift,
For here you see all possessions shift.”
She says, “I just didn’t want to grift.”

At the bottom of the hill we see a spot of rust,
I turn to my Alice and tell her what I must.
“This is just a solemn grave,
The last house of the Knave.
Red Queen did this yes my dear.
Pay me no mind as I shed this tear,
For this little crime,
When it was his time,
I could not speak,
My tongue was in my cheek.
I know it was so bleak,
It cost him his life, right at the peak.”

So here my new friends,
This is where it ends.
This tale was spun,
And it was fun.
Let me know in your script,
If you want more tale flipped.
Give this Hatter characters you enjoyed,
And you will see them here employed.
Tried a different rhyming scheme for this one than I normally use...
Keith W Fletcher May 2019
Why do I think
it's okay to lie to people
first of all I live in the real world
not a building with a cross and a steeple
be that as it may
I guess you could say
I lie to people only to avoid the truth
that may sound stupid
that may sound hubrusistic,
comatosly mystic,
patreonystic
anyway but how I see it ...as...
Yes...
.. I'm going to say it...
altruistic !

come with me if you will
to a place where truth lives and lies collide
like a frantic manic,
about to reach the high score and more
on a pinball game
just past that quarter slot
where deep inside
like echoing chamber
sounds
of  quarters hitting quarter
Reverberations
the Mockingjay sound
of flippers flapping
All just past the signpost
flashing... tilt
to the place called MyLieAtZone

Up to a point I tell only truths
like some cackling clown
bobbing up and down
in a sideshow booth
or maybe more apt
is the clown that sits
Upon the slat
Just above the water tank
goading you
into sling sling slinging
baseball after baseball
as each and every zing
He chooses to string
seems to ring
closer to the core of who... You... Are...
But as you never wish to be seen

The angrier you get
trying not
to just get him wet
but to drown the clown
the farther you miss!!!
the closer he is
to seeing how close he is ...to yours
and that is what gets you the most
how to the crowd around you
he begins to boast
then he stops reading you
begins leading you ...
...into the house of horrors
and to think
all he did is watch for you to lie
in order to deny
that you are or could be...
those things...
... you hope no one else may see

But you are... They are... The clown perched upon the slat ... People in church ... Synagogues... Libraries... And the guy at the local bar... Me... And you we all go through... The tunnel of horrors

And all I can say is....

So ...freaking ...what?

Why do I lie when a truth would be better?
I don't - I won't -
At least not when the truth
( As you say)  would be better
I lie to not be honest
I lie to not expose
personal details best left private
I find a lie , a flat tire , a traffic jam
much better than
to say I'm exhausted
near catatonic
From having an all-nighter an argument
with my significant other

OH BROTHER  come closer
and let me tell you of a sinner
yep an all-nighter
an argument
about how to end a fight
That's right

It's better to go with a flat tire
A traffic jam late babysitter
before I would tell the truth
and hope to feed the boss
a misadventure into
MyLieAtZone

sometimes you are the pinball
trying to keep moving
staying away from the drain

sometimes you are the wizard
Slapping the glass with flat palms
slapping the flappers
6 ***** bouncing off the walls
and just 10,000 points
From insane

So then ...
..I lie only when or actually spin
a truth
Like carnival flopping cotton candy
When..simply put
People will believe a lie
before they will believe...
or accept a truth !!

And so ...I leave this tale
as I cross the veil
To pass on through
MyLieAtZone
Beyond the signpost up ahead
that once read
TILT

To rejoint you with
the most truthful grift
I've heard in quite some time
I said to my good friend...
... just before his end !

"why do you drink so much ...is it to forget something ?
and he said "yes I do !
I drink to forget the reason that I drink!"

and I tell you the truth
To tell you the truth ...really tell you the truth
I thought about this that he said
for a long long time
then I got it !
I understood ...
...exactly what he said .
unfortunately it was one day

One day after he was dead !!

Yet I consider it a gift ...
From beyond the rift

Just ahead past that signpost
up ahead
The one that
No longer reads ...tilt

Just beyond a place I call ...
MyLieAtZone...
Chelsea Chavez Oct 2015
in the darkness of our feet
lavernum dreams
pale laudanum lips
lavender flowers

world stretched out as gossamer
too tensile, unraveling

there is another language here: you
pale and glowing
volume of phantoms pressed as books
against the history of our backs

now here, now stretched too thin
for wanting, for wanton
for the drain of love, or leaving

unmistakable grift, small as peonies
partitioned as ash, well-wish
silver ripple, or nickel of time

in the water a reflection: un-you
always losing shape amongst shapeless arms

there is an alm:
forgetting
betterdays Aug 2014
i  detour on the way home
to the light house on the headland
such a grandiose appellation
for a stolid white box  with
a light in it...
more utalitarian than romantic
but still it is nice to see it blink on

but i digress ... i am so ****** tired
beyond the bone, right down to the marrow
god this winter has been so long
and the grief i drag around,
in tattered threads... and sepia tones
leaves me cold....

my heart not in the teaching...
i feel disjointed, displaced .
i have misplaced the knack
to find the joy in youthful creativity
and am running this marathon by rote

i worry that the key won't turn in the lock
and i will be caught within
this cage...
an exhibition in the museum
to has-beens  and never-were's

yet paradoxically...
my performance stellar
sometimes so good
that i fool myself...

god send spring soon....
or i fear am come undone

it has rained for a week
cold and bitter here
give strengnth to  the roots
of my tidily packaged fears

and if i don't see spring soon
they will be spread and torn and ripped
and you will see the inside and
understand the grift

and there the light blinks on
sending out the saving beam
safe secure and strong
and in the shadows
you see the woman
scrabbling at the earth
burying deep in sandy loam
the thoughts birthed from
an  overtired mind
the thoughts that she
must not nurture ...
that needs be left behind
buried deep, stomped  hard
into the ground...

and as she stands in the lee of the light
and looks to the sea ..... she sighs heavily
the turns back into the deepening night
less heavy of heart....able to continue
the fight..... one last look...
then homeward bound....
thanking the lighthouse
and leaving  sacred ground.
so thats the bottom-dollar truth
these just the random ramblings
of an overworked me....
not every day is  a betterday
live with it!    i do!
tranmission of hope,
may return on the morrow
or not....
wordvango Sep 2023
Let me peep in
Stick my nose up
Your crack
See whether it's her his or him
Cause I'm a Patriot
Gotta protect whataboutism and
Tax cuts, glory to he who made this country free,
Worried more about business
what Goes on behind doors
Closed than how children eat or
are clothed

more
Interested in Disney than government
And my constituents becoming commies giving one cent to the poor
When all the big corps need tax breaks, you know as is common sense

Let's impeach someone with no proof hoping it increases the odds or better yet ignore the sins of big oranges
2 billion son-in-law got from the Saudis

Why try to improve lives, not about it, when so much grift and enticement we can foster by kissing the rich ***.
It's easier, Cause we aren't the party of religion....we subvert it.  Use it for profit.

Like the old white confederate. We lose but don't die. Gonna keep on keeping on oppressing until you wake up
Roman Pavel Apr 2023
I’m tired of the clapping, young kids a trapping,
No capping, same problems we attacking back when 2pac was rapping

Talking about illuminati and the super rich,
You Connect the pieces, through a panel stitch
We all slaves, quick to share the conspiracy link.
We all know George Soros, but not Laurence Fink

Black rock, black stone, black power.
But all we can talk about is trumps *******?
Not the people we empower, Bc we get our news from Matt Lauer?

Fake news just means thing you don’t agree with.
The Subjective facts, turn truth IN to myth
To much noise causes perspective to shift
Happens so swift, you think it’s gift
But really you just fell for the grift

Ronald Reagan is the devil. Ya I said it
The one that started the crack epidemic,
AIDS, he didn’t get it, and let millions die in the pandemic

But, all the presidents are crooks.
Even Clinton cooked the books.
We went from a vision for a globalized economy
To drone striking little kids with autonomy

WERE ******!!!!
and it’s hard to see, all the different ways that you’re no longer free. All the different ways, you ain’t got the key, fighting the daily struggle of just to be.

WERE ******!!!
You know what they don’t teach you in schools?
How to do your taxes, WHY!? They think you’re all fools
Meanwhile you pay all the taxes you owe.
And big corporations, well… you know.

But, ROME, we need the corporations, to survive, they give us jobs, while we’re alive. Don’t they pay for most of the taxes in the land? Well, kind of, that’s payroll. And that’s not the plan.
FIRST, they took pension plans, but here’s a 401k
We’ll lower the pension but, Mach what you pay
And PLEASE don’t ask us if the stock markets OK… that’s not my job, but be patient and stay.

SECOND, companies, unlike YOU!
Deduct all their expenses…
This company car, ain’t it expensive…
These company shoes, I like to expense it
Let’s all go to the Bahamas… the tax game commences

So you got 1099’s, well write off your ****.
Don’t let the man, charge you fines
Expense it.

You don’t even need an LLC
Just file a Schedule C
Take the standard mileage deduction you see
Then write off All the **** you be

Credit is a system of trust designed by the white man
You can’t play unless you stick to the plan.
We live in a world where the rules are set
And the rules are designed to make you upset
So you look around, and what do you find?
Someone different, that may have stepped out of line
Now they are the  focus of your loathing
Become the reason of why money, you ain’t holding.
But you took your eyes off the prize. You forgot the game. May I surmise, you’re the one to blame.

WERE ******
Rap about institutionalized issues
Cunning Linguist Sep 2022
I’m surfing on this cosmic wave ~
Yeah boiii just a ****** slave to the game
Can’t get -more- saves less you play
But still I stay fresh
When I’m slaying all the freshmen
And eating their flesh
It’s the best source of refreshment

I’m replenished
With this system
hell to the yes I’m so digestive
**** I’m spitting, need a breath mint
Got that fire I will ingest it
til I regurgitate the excrement
my mic presence is heaven sent
(Don’t question/ no quenching) it
GG Allin ain’t got nothing
on Reidums Donovan

Don’t like my frequencies
Well switch the channel then
I’m murdering these beats
Stacking bodies in the FEMA bins

Stay tuned, watch the news
The crisis has become apocalypse
The consciousness is not nonsense
Wait shush, we cannot talk bout this

My third eye prism beams
simply shining in iridescence
In present tense that means
We just gon cater to this nemesis
While in essence the power
steady reigns all pre(isdents/cedence)
To the loss of innocence in a sense
Extradimensional omniscience

Got us steeped in a schism
which we cannot process yet;
This mental prison got you locked up in
Religion, sports, and politics
A House divided cannot stand
You people cannot understand
It’s all a sham Endgame
it’s equal to the fall of man

It’s not happenstance it’s bad romance
the parasitic old humans
Take every advantage
heavy chance
they can devils advocate  ~ first glance
Waging global management
amongst its residents
With malevolence

And violence unto others
On behest of these
caricatures of governments

You simply must not succumb
to this Big Brother ****
Bound by strings they all just puppets
on that false worship business
Til you’ve ascended to the mothership
You’ll Spin this gold like Rumplestiltskin *****

For this debt we owe but will instead
offer up our children
Cause they soul been sold off to the Vatican
The rapture will not matter then
Bcuz it’s all projected hologram
To unite a global front
Ignited by these hostile reptilians

Illuminati making trillions
****** hosts for these archons
Primo minions;
Unlimited energies not believed in
-To the zenith
by our calcifiying pineal glands
Can’t perceive it

History outlines these diabolical plans
By Albert Pike from the mid 1800’s
Highest level Freemason
But you won’t see this in the curriculum
Trilateral commissions
funded by that Epstein grift, sacrificing kids
And suiciding those who think or speak dissent
To the *** trafficking ring
run by Billiam and Hilly Clinton

Bush for really did 9/11
& In 2012 the world ended
Mandela effect got me feeling impressed with
The lack of woke minds
aligned with the paradigm shift
The macrocosmic mother knows
consumerism is *******
but satanic panic gives us all a chip
For they cannot purchase;
without the mark of the beast
In either the Hand
or their forehead
Heads bonkers
Mind is swamp
Matrix gardener
Not stoppin
Knobs sloberred
Snake-charming
Chop-blockin
Beer-swillin
Tax-paying
Pencil sharpenin
Summer loving
Puffin sumthin
Cop-prompting
****-farming
God-fearing
****-knockers
B E Cults Aug 2021
so
         so
                 bored of the
         same old
same old.
all is grist,
I'd call it a grift too.
all of it,
from the womb to the lichgate,
the womb and the lichgate included.

hope is about as high
as a sink full of dishes.
my only relief from anything
comes from staring at stars,
knowing I'll have to
endlessly relive this.
entropy lent at interest.
the  gun nuts touting the  2nd amendment for profit
claiming  trump will make anything "great again"
are scary as ****.
and chock full of sin.

we used to shut ‘em down
and slaughter them without a frown
in big brutal fires.
The ATF 's  ******* desires.

NOW ?
they run the senate.
and they run the house.
And we have to hide away  quietly as a  little mouse.

The whiplash between Waco’s murderous  inferno
and today’s political climate
is one of the most jarring contradictions
in recent American history.
All charred and blistery.

What was once seen as a
dangerous, cultish, fringe,
now is YouTube-cleansed and repeated
like' The Apprentice '  for binge, binge, binge.

Now bunker builders and bullet hoarders
are wearing their cheap Sunday suits
and writing our educational and world health care policies like cheap money grubbing prostitutes.

The same archetype that got
flattened by our prayer backed tanks and flames
now sits on oversight committees, playing monopoly games
drooling over their own plastic daughters
and fake big-*** Matt Gaetz-sized *******,
waving  the pocket  Constitution and envying prostitution,
proclaiming  themselves
"patriots and worse.  What did  the average American do  to deserve this curse.."

that shift
from siege to Senate From Insurrection to handed out pill *******.
is terrifying.  And to whom are we now supposed to be relying ?

And Marjorie Taylor Greene...
look at her face.
Horrifying. No denying.

What happened at Waco
wasn’t just a tragedy,
it was a signpost,
haunted by ***** Jim Morrison wannabe ghost.

A moment where the government said:
“this is the line.”
but a lil fire will be just fine.

but what happens
when the line itself becomes   the  joke,
a guillotine for all ,  
polished and meant to be seen.

The same ideologies
that once earned a militarized raid
now cozy up with national leadership fat in the shade.
and Sunday school worship trade?

that’s not evolution
that’s a metastasis.
and every tithe helps it persist.

Why was McCarthy so adamant? So scared not because like them he "cared".
Because he knew the Bolsheviks were
(and always have been)
right.

It’s clear to see
in black and white. You have no right to fight.

****** gun cults, ( no animal sticks around for 15 rounds)
Racial grievance and white hate backlash , tired of all the blame. Yet it buries all the same.
pseudo-religious authoritarianism Christo fascism !

They’ve rebranded themselves
their ignorance  and hate and its sadly too late.
Now we starve from Tariffs and wait to die, homeless and plague ridden . The revolution will not be televised   or hidden.
Its a political platform,
not  hollow threats. Roe vs. Wade  bye bye.

No regrets,
doubling and tripling down,
new tariffs to paint the orange clown.  Your body   Ha!
Our  choice,  You never have had a vote against the corporatocracy or a voice.

and the brown shirts are not hiding anymore.
they will come drag you out your OWN front door.

Right  now they’re holding rallies.
they’re writing new laws.
and sharpening old G.O.P.  claws.

and it’s not just absurd.
it’s a kind of national amnesia.

We’ve gone from watching
the FBI torch " nut ball" compounds
to  our "elected' leaders  loading  more rounds,
Launching free AR-15 Christmas cards
as dead kids pile up
in  old school yards
( Remember these are your " Russian "  elected officials.)
no tampering or hampering.
somehow
toothless, brainwashed Christians
are cheering it on.
with Trump signs planted
next to flags
on their lawn.

despair and lunacy
and the only honest language is buried.

That cognitive dissonance
isn’t just personal , it's deadly
it’s starving kids
and cutting school lunches.

it’s systemic,
endemic,
and we will die
in the next pandemic.

this world,
and its Xi JingPing,
Putin,
Elon ***** rocket leaders
don’t deserve our obedience.
let alone respect.

we will see the neglect
in retrospect.
when Trump refuses to leave office
and they come to your door to collect.

starts like always
with banning books.
easier than street fires
where everyone looks.

but same result.
same intellectual assault.
and insult.

and openly racist attacks
with guns and party rhetoric
jammed in our backs.

our people,
and their homes,
and at their jobs.
turn us into fat, greasy, brainless
dollar store candy slobs.

teach the young Republicans
to hate and attack
the gays,

the frogs,
the fluoride water.
it’s all their fault
anyways.

transgender people
openly assaulted
with no remorse,
no compassion.
steal and stock up
on rations.

“America, America,
God shed His grace on thee…”
…and sold bibles,
and golden shoes,
and cardboard N-F-T…

gospel turned grift,
Jesus’s greatest gift.

patriotism turned cosplay,
action now
no oversight, no delay.

P.T.A fake dignity  traded in
for airbrushed
A.I. ******* fantasy
NFTs of  their hot jew  Messiah
with abs and a gun.
all for *** luck Sunday  family fun.

Family hunted in public
for being different
and  those detaining
call it
“freedom.”

Free to buy more crap
you don’t need
and can’t afford.
taught to swipe and ignore
and greedily hoard.

America, America…
God shed His grace on thee…
The Man of Today is no more.
Greed, prejudice, the game of war,
Have settled this world’s final score.

I, the Man of Tomorrow, will
Entirely of my own will,
Set this sick, blighted world alight.
All must bow before my might.

There are those who see Life as taking,
People who grift, steal, and plunder.
Hardly a World worth remaking.
The only recourse? Destruction.

I once believed it could be saved,
A renewed path that would be paved.
With I, the light to shine the way,
The World would begin its new day.

But despite my pride and heart’s flare,
I found those who could not spare care.
Fools who took kindness for granted,
They who took Me for a good tool.

As my quest went on, I wondered.
‘Can this World be saved?’ I pondered.
Or had it reached its end limit?
Had the clock hit its last minute?
Soon enough, I thought a grave thought.
‘Does THIS World deserve my saving?’
It disturbed me, but Life went on,
And each day, all seemed too far-gone.

Until the day which shaped my mind.
A man of rags, who I once fed,
Pointed his dull knife at my head,
Demanding my money in kind.

From that day on, I decided.
The Man of Tomorrow had
To replace the Man of Today.
All the while acting as if the screams of ***** children were nothing but more "liberal noise" and "fake news," even as he compared Stormy to his daughter before sadly flopping around like the taco manatee he is.
He wasn’t just buddies with Epstein. He partied full-on eighties; piles of coke and champagne enemas with him. He lusted and wallowed literally in piles of scammed cancer patient and dying veterans' cash with him, and dismissed every underaged trafficked survivor. It doesn’t just read like a rap sheet. It reads like the collapse of accountability itself. Supreme Court sanctioned.

When you lay it out, when you really stack the bodies, the broken laws, the shattered norms, and the battered dignity of what little democracy we had — even Kristi Noem starts to look like a hollow-eyed lost uneducated voting farm mom with very poor taste, compared to this orange taco who set the whole house on fire and called it patriotism.

The magnitude is undeniable:

He didn’t just incite a riot. He summoned a lynch mob in Jesus cosplay, armed with bear spray, flagpoles, pipe bombs, zip ties, and impromptu gallows, chanting to hang his own boot-licking, robot, boy scout, carved out of driftwood, sad excuse for a committee-he-wasn’t-even-there-for Vice President.

He didn’t just steal top secret documents and billion dollar secrets people died to protect. He bragged about it. It’s all on tape. Listen to what he promised to donors, to foreign adversaries, to the highest bidders, like a doped-up power-drunk mafia Don showing off his stolen American trophies — souvenirs from the nuclear football.

He didn’t just commit fraud. He built a branding empire on defrauding hard-working Americans, from that fake university he created to a charity that stole money from veterans and dying children with cancer.

He wasn’t just buddies with Epstein. Underage girls screamed and pleaded to not have to be next. All lost into the void of wealth and power. Literally trapped on an island. At least Epstein did the right thing.

He wasn’t just found guilty of defamation twice. He was found to have sexually abused E. Jean Carroll, and then lied about it so cruelly and so often the courtroom flinched. Jurors literally vomited.

He wasn’t just impeached twice. He was never even held accountable because too many senators were too afraid of losing Facebook likes from suburban militias.

He didn’t just fail upward. He left claw marks on democracy as he rose from bankrupt casinos and rotting steaks.

Let’s not forget:

He defrauded us, the broke-*** taxpayers, for hundreds of millions while we post fake photoshopped Facebook pics of our imaginary lives in which we pretend we aren’t just serfs and slaves to the dollar.

He bilked donors with fake matching fund scams.

He grifted off a deadly pandemic.

He sold hats and gold-plated Bibles while bodies literally piled up in every third-world country. Stack upon rotting stack of them.

He called fallen soldiers like people I served with “suckers and losers.” "What kind of idiot gets caught or becomes MIA?"

Then he ordered us tear-gassed. Us, peaceful protesters. And for what? For a failed photo op with a smoking Chinese-made Bible he’s never even read.

He threatened journalists, judges, and witnesses by name, their kids and families.

He tried to extort Ukraine for political dirt and is now trying to give it to his hero Putin.

He pardoned war criminals — literal rapists and alleged cannibals.

He turned the DOJ into his personal vindictive hate-fueled legal team, bent on revenge.

He promised revenge on all political enemies and is working on it.

He plotted to send tanks into American cities to crush people with no trial or due process like his hero ******.

He encouraged people to inject bleach or just drink it.

He said ****** “did some good things.” He said racist killer mobs were “fine people.”

And yes — he fathered Eric, who scares even his fellow coked-out zombie beavers.

He lies to the whole country again and again with no compunction. Not just about an election he undeniably lost while whispering to oath-breaking cowards to “just find 11,780 votes.”

He screamed “fake news” at the sounds of ***** children, compared Stormy Daniels to his daughter, before flopping around like an electrocuted taco manatee, bragging then crying over his gold toilets — the taco manatee of late-night infomercials, Pepsi spots, Pizza Hut and more — the collection plates full for authoritarianism.

He wallowed in cash with billionaires and traffickers, while everyday people chewed on fluoride-free ketchup packet soup made from fast food salt single-serves and apologetic acid rainwater.

He told coal miners he’d bring back jobs, while he deregulated their protections and sold off their futures for an immediate infusion of pennies on the dollar, which he squandered trying to pay off **** stars and *** workers behind his heartless wife’s cold, unloving, robotic back. Guess that's better than having another one pushed down the stairs again.

He killed the lunch programs. Then mailed postcards to the kids' families he helped starve, addressed to the ones already gunned down at school during recess.

He said he’d “drain the swamp,” then drained our global economy with insider trading like Martha Stewart at a Snoop Dogg ****, then baptized himself in the orange glowing filth.

This is the man who turned grievance into a sacrament, white supremacy into a ballot strategy, and cruelty into offshore taxpayer-funded currency scams.

This is the man who made Kristi Noem — at least she only shot a puppy.

Trump didn’t just break laws. He is the rotting carcass of Clarence Thomas Winnebago accountability, draped in a poorly tailored flag and Rudy’s spray-tan runoff.

Please tell your kids why they only get half a doll and half a school day.

Tell your daughter why her broken childhood is a “patriotic sacrifice.”

Tell the bodies in the gravel pits, in Ukraine, the self-aborted **** fetus in the back alley dumpster why we called this “greatness.”

Or maybe just admit:

The poets didn’t ruin America. The Christo-fascists did. And they did it with a smile, a red hat, and a Golden Bible full of blank pages.

The shameless uncaring pandemic grift — there’s more to mine:

His deliberate downplaying of COVID while privately admitting its lethality. He got the best care though when he got it, on the taxpayer’s dime of course.

Mocking masks while people suffocated on inadequate, underfunded ventilators.

Forced unwanted “super-spreader” rallies held with full knowledge of their danger to the obese and elderly that died as a result.

All the while profit-promoting quack cures and undermining professional career scientists, leading to thousands more easily avoidable deaths.

Bodies piled in freezer trucks — he called that a hoax. My uncle wasn’t a hoax. My neighbor, nor my childhood friends. He used their deaths as another twisted campaign strategy.

He held rallies not despite the danger, but because of it, to spread it. Feeding a martyr complex to the uneducated, unfaltering cult faithful. Making the morgue a loyalty test.

His lies weren’t just political. They were epidemiological ****** warfare.

Countless — literally uncounted — children in cages.

Millions spent separating scared, confused children from their parents, some of whom were never reunited even today.

Locking toddlers in cages under foil blankets.

Promoting a system that was losing track of hundreds of children in a Kafkaesque bureaucratic abyss.

He asked for votes over tearing families apart at the border and called it justice.

They caged infants beneath aluminum sheets, trauma-wrapping toddlers while TV pundits shrugged.

Some kids vanished into paperwork and shadows. No names, no faces — just starving, traumatized, nameless ghosts in a broken, heartless system.

Then the constant environmental ****.

Not only the flaming sinks and contaminated rivers, but even more coal deregulation — but there’s more.

Opening sacred tribal lands for drilling.

Gutting the EPA.

Selling off national monuments for extraction deals.

Ignoring climate collapse in exchange for small, meaningless, short-term temporary profits.

He stripped the Earth like it owed him rent.

Pried open sacred tribal burial grounds with corporate drills.

Turned protected lands into sacrifice zones.

Signed deals in boardrooms lit by wildfires, laughing while the oceans burned and washed their dead onto the beaches — wave after poisoned, overheated wave.

He banned trans troops from serving.

Rolled back healthcare protections.

Enabled a wave of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation and violence.

Appointed judges hostile to marriage equality and basic human dignity.

He didn’t whisper hate. He ensured his hate-filled, brainwashed cronies codified it.

He didn’t ignore trans lives. He erased them in pages of senseless policy.

He armed the bigots with hate laws, lit fires beneath pride flags, and gave the pulpit to now-known and convicted Catholic priests and other child-molesting preachers who called consenting adult love a “sickening sinful disease.”

SCOTUS corruption and the theocracy agenda.

Like Anita Hill — we must always name Clarence Thomas brilliantly, and to the broader point:

Amy Coney Barrett was laughably forever seated just days before a critical election.

Stacking our courts with impossible-to-remove, mentally sick, and power-hungry religious extremists.

SCOTUS helped dismantle rights, pretending not to be political while they continue, to this very second, doing the bidding of billionaires and evangelical overlords.

He helped turn robes into vestments, gavels into crucifixes.

Rushed the sick sad **** Barrett through like a sermon before the offering plate. This guy was the class name taker and tattle-tale. No one’s peer or equal   just a sad, sick, revenge-bent **** lusting for pain and power.

Made the highest court a cathedral for plutocrats and prophets, where the Constitution burns beneath the Book of Revelations.

Media control and cult dynamics:

Turning Rupert Murdoch’s ******* named Fox News into a state-sanctioned and fully funded five-times-a-day sports scores and soundbites brownshirt propaganda wing.

Cultivating “alternative facts” through social media disinfo.

Demonizing truth itself to build loyalty through censored movies that don’t even align with or reflect their sad, sick agendas but co-opting them anyway and giving it away to lowest earners that can’t afford cable news and don’t hold library cards but have all the episodes of The Apprentice on VHS.

He is, every day, trying to turn truth into an unpatriotic traitor.

I am a veteran. I fought. I bled. He did what? Get another handy after a massage in a tennis resort in spoiled, pampered New York?

He built a doctrine of lies so thick, people prayed in memes and bled for hashtags over him.

He birthed a cult with red hats and martyrdom complexes, where facts go to die and grievance is a bedazzled grandma tote bag and visored gospel.

January 6 aftermath — not just the riot:

Pledging to pardon entrenched, psychotic, bomb-building, gun-hoarding insurrectionists.

Calling them “hostages.”

Still drunk on the blood spilled that day.

Describing those jailed for violent sedition as “the real patriots. All the rest of you are too lazy or stupid to fall in line with.”

He didn’t just incite a coup. He sold the gaudy merch off it.

He raised money on policemen's spilled blood, called terrorists “tourists,” and promised their perpetual freedom.

He made sedition a subscription plan, and treason a campaign slogan.

Women’s rights and abortion.

Grabbing them right by their *******, for America, to show his daughter how to lead by example.

Overturning Roe v. Wade via the judges they seated. It will lead to real-world deaths of millions of women denied basic health care.

Trigger laws activating across red states, dragging us back centuries.

He didn’t just overturn Roe. He unstitched time.

Dragged women back to back alleys and whispers.

He handed scalpels to zealots in robes, and watched the nation bleed, smiling like a man who thinks pain is purity. And **** and ****** is your fault, because life begins at *******.
David R Apr 2022
tell fingers to write
in compendious form
perchance grant respite
from inner turmoil storm
from nature gregarious
in mind-jail contrarious
through written commune
in time opportune
elucidate my state
perchance reciprocate
perchance to clear
the fog and the fear
perchance exculpate
the guilt o' mind-state
to elicit response
from brain so ensconced
in darkness of mind
state in which i find
the people all around
as i in state confound
a mental funambulism
of paranoia 'n autism
bemused befuddled
black cotton wool not cuddled
all druthers denied
in polyglot mind
in liaison with the devil
unpalatable to one level
thoughts unmanageable
as soft putty malleable
not by monsters in the air
of zoomorphic form to scare
but by monsters in the flesh
catch mind as in a mesh
construe in mental rift
in milieu o' crooks' grift
yet through timeless antidote
with words' rhyme in note
have cleared mind somewhat
from dregs of coffee-***
so onward mettlesome horse
we'll trot together yet
at vanguard o' life's course
till time to pay our debt
till hope for imprimatur
from my true life Protection
in place of light so pure
till time's resurrection.
BLT's Merriam-Webster Word of The Day Challenge
#elucidate druthers bemuse funambulism polyglot liaison reciprocate palatable malleable exculpate zoomorphic construe grift opportune elicit milieu timeless mettlesome vanguard imprimatur resurrection compendious gregarious

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