Hurricane Season and Horseshit.

0636/2014 80/88 Blue Skies ESE10/15 70%H

Greetings from the Hill.

A gorgeous day in paradise, blue skies,
billowing white clouds, swaying palms,
quiet streets before the tour arrives...
"The What and for Whom,"
sputters the madone,
amazed at the neighbour exposing his home
for 'Pridefest', a week when
gays and lesbians talk
to each other...
"And that ripoff 'Rainbow Flag',"
snorting and wondering
about Moody's persuasion.

The oldman sighed and sipped
another pint,
fat dikes and fruits on bikes,
another way to sell a house,
tours for whores.

The opera from Havana,
Dragnet on FreeTV,
doves eating catfood,
cats sleeping on scaffolding,
roosters in the gardens,
underwear on the clothesline,
the Rogosuite empty and neat,
the indian on a rideabout.

The oldman wondered about the future,
less than five months...
would he live to see 'Change'
or the same dumb shit
avoiding the truth of 'it'.

"Barryboy or Bambi, as the cunt calls him
is an effete, not killer quality,
he might get the 20%'s,
but queers aren't sissies anymore,
too weak to lead mercenaries,"
grumbles the madone
disgusted with the deceit
of pathetic faces
pretending races.

"The dumbfuck public doesn't vote,
give them a beercard, a gascard,
good for an 'Andrew Jackson',
get them to the polling booth
and home with a dime,"
the oldman hated house tours.

And snotty fat shorthaired dikes.

The gayboys next door had gone north
and shuttered their home
for the season.

The hurricane season.

A lovely breeze in the Keys
the Isles of Eternal Sun,
All One Family
until November.

Recycle and bicycle.

Buy the canned goods.

And don't wear hoods.