Friday, November 30, 2007

Blue Skies and an Easterly Breeze

Greetings from the Hill
73/83 BLUE SKIES E5/10 0655/1738 60%H

A gorgeous day in paradise, survived another month,
palm trees swaying in the noontime breeze, cats
sleeping on the balcony, still sipping cafe conleche,
windows clean and floors swept, a retirees' life.

"Hey, turdbird, you been retired since Carter lost,"
laughs the madone in an unusually good mood
despite the ominous news from honest sources,
those bloggers not on the advertisers' take,
media connivers who convince the gullible fools
to put up decorations and lights four weeks
before Xmas..."Hey, its for Real Estate Sales,
a home for the Holiday," mocks the mocker.

"So what about these CEO cheeseburgers
on Fall Street, a lot of relish on their buns,"
aluding to the fuckups who get vast bonuses
and stock payouts to lose billions, but where,
where is "it' lost, writedowns held on books'
"Duhh, like off the books balance sheets,
the ones the raters, Fitch and never snitch
get paid to ignore, accountants, regulators,
evaluators, appraisers, kind of like having
Joe Kennedy head of the S.E.C.,the system
is devised for the system....wait until the
Chinese and Indians play the game."

The oldman sat back taking the sun through
the open window, perhaps the talk of recession
was merely a WhiteHouse coverup before
the extension of war, domestic problems first,
"Who gives a fuck about 'away over there',
when we're losing the house and can't afford
pizza and beer."

Could the situation be as diabolical as actors portray,
a cheerleader as commander in chief....
Rasputin who never wore warboots and a cabal
of alsorans running for Hedgehogs..
the oldman sold out to the Ragheads with Zapata,
he had the magic touch and developed Offshore,
dumbfuck couldn't find oil if he fell in a hole,
the moron was a pin the tale on an elephant.

"All very cynical, but the demented rule the masses,
and the masses have become messes and spineless,
eight years of Bab's fool to be followed by the Bitch
or the crooked party and the Golden Morman...
his daddy was one of the best and Mitt made
a success at Bain, how ironic that an expert
at the game could rid the nation of theives,"
dreamed the oldman a dream, an american dream.

Blue skies and beautiful,
a delicate breeze in the Keys,
above the Florida Horn.

"Hi Yo, Silver, away.

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