Saturday, June 27, 2009

Summer on the balcony with a laptop.

0640/2019 82/88 blue skies SE10/15 75%H
DOGS 8409 6951 9371 1402 Libor 0630

Greetings from the Hill.

A beautiful day in paradise, a slight breeze,
classics from Havana on the balcony,
flute sounds below on the porch.

Another summer with Ronnie and Nancy,
Michael starred with the Thriller,
tried everything to be fancy,
but was just another nose killer.

"Was 'it' little boys and girls,"
wondered the madone.

Six months since the oldman fell
down the stairs, all fifteen,
the day of the inaugaration,
his farewell salute to GWB,
slipping on rooster shit,
the house had become a coop
for the indian's birds.

Urgency, the theme of the Republicans
was carried forward beyondthe halfwhite
leader of the free market world,
inculcating DEBT beyond Georgie Boys'
wildest dream and bailouts......

"Hunker under the TARP boys,
after the banks and autos,
pensions and medical costs,
we'll save the states,
profits from our investment
in investment banks,"
announced Barney Franks,
convinced there was a sage
behind every White House page.

"Six months and what has happened,
absolutely nothing.....
the same numbers, the same bullshit,
TLC, thieving, lying, cheats,
hiding the mystery the worms on CNBC
will not discuss even with Larry Fink,
the snake behind derivatives,
the worm beneath Blackrock,
a hedge fund managing
the government bailouts,
fucking asshole insanity,"
rants the madone popping
an afternoon beer with hardly a breeze.

The oldman did very little after the accident,
walking was slow and dangerous,
inner ear balance problems
and outer ear hearing...like trucks.

The fracture repaired but the friction
continued, the constant arguement
over control of the estate,
the empowerment of final decisions,
the name on the mailbox,
the color of the trim,
the flowers in the pots.

Dreams were the blossoms
of imagination,
tasks were fallen leaves
forgotten.

"Yeah yeah fucking blah,
all a horrible conspiracy by them,
those sinister manipulators
in high places of all races,
masks and hairpieces,
fake teeth and high heels,
mouthpieces
to oil the wheels,
and keep the consumers
consuming...."
grumbles the oldman
getting nasty and senile.

"Let them feed off their fat,
plenty to roll around,"
since the accident, he himself
had gained twenty pounds.

The retarded rooster crowing
on Love Lane driving Bob
to La Te Da, there was no point
in bitching, not his nature,
he didn't wear dresses
like Joe and Todd
at the end of the lane,
six months and a hundred more
from each hen, a lot of eggs
that walk across the street.

"Add up the numbers and laugh,
the joke is on your children's children,
somebody changed the formula
and altered the model
then redesigned the brand,
NEW.COM CHANGE.COM
after all 'it's just a name,
hohofuckingho,"
mocked the mystery voice
in the painted hallway.

]Rusty Fish burned to death,
a terrible way to die later
from his wounds
in a home
not his own.

Five o'clock and the breeze better,
this typing shit takes forever
but might enhance the inner awareness
and allow a holistic flow of spirit
permiting the negative ions
to dissipate through the finger tips
healing the calcium deficient nails
and soothe the arthritis
making piano playing easy
in the breeze
in the florida keys
above the Horn
inside the reef
on a piece of Rock

Above Solaris Hill.

Magic Jack and the Family.

Hofuckingho.