0711/1803 62/75 Blue Skies NE10/15 77%H
DOGS 10561 7696 1112 1802.
Greetings from the Hill.
A beautiful day in paradise,
reading the New Yorker on the balcony,
classics through the open window,
in the morning sun...
CNBC fools ignored in the bedroom,
roosters across the street,
away from the madone's hose,
cat's sleeping in chairs of their own.
Swaying palm trees and quiet streets.
A message from Alida, the hot dog lady,
when Carter was President...
an entrepreneur with the aluminum wagon,
"Steam your buns
and relish your wiener."
She had a dream to be city manager
and change the conch corruption...
hearts are broken in paradise
minds turn to alcoholic slop,
and hope exists in dope.
"Hey, asshole, only for those who stay,"
laughs the madone, seen it all,
watcher of fools fall,
and the brokers call.
"Yeah, fucking blah, 'it's' all bullshit,"
said Billy to Henry Fonda,
when Scott Brown sucked ass
in the state senate, another Guardsman,
a JAGmaster and no kills,
strange religious background
that didn't get him into BAIN
and Romneys' circle.
The oldman watched him embarrass
his lovely daughters on National TV,
"They are available..."
even George Stupid Bush
wouldn't pimp his daughters,
this fuck is a fool.
And the grinning President pumped hands
in another losing show of support.
An earthquake destroys an already ruined nation.
The Three Stooges agree to help.
Three Assholes who have ruined America.
One wonders if the spokesman
is always the jokesman,
comfort the audience
and smile at the ladies,
humor the fat fool
paying the bill...
the credit card consumer...
"Spend, spend, spend,"
encouraged George after 9/11
on the road to debt heaven.
Clinton released the Three Headed Dog.
This verbal flowmaster believes his own shit,
whoever unleased this monster of deceit
will find the dog of CHAOS
with a fix on the River Styxx...
"Imagine what happened this year,
Hope and Change in Obamaville,
this jivetalking halfwhite geek
made whitefolk ghettos
out of suburbs,"
growled the madone
hating the Joker Clown.
FCIC to understand what caused the theft
of wealth and assets, the fortunes
of middleclass masses without cable,
for the Super Bowl...
a month to go before outrage
The Consumer Cow is out of Milk.
Curdled and girdled on wobbly legs,
too weak to eat green shoots.
"Sell your stock, take the walk,
or is 'it' all in name
of Cede and Company,
the shadow holders of all,
the bogus trust of DTCC,
a game one cannot see."
growls the oldman not blind.
The classics get static at sunset,
grey skies and palm leaves,
Angora squeezing through the louvered door,
cat food in the President's room,
Tony finished in the garden,
Alger at his computer,
this house not for sale.
"Make 'it' a home,"
said Mrs Albury,
when the oldman was young.
Viola jumps through the empty pane
broken by a raving rooster,
the attacks from unwanted birds,
pets of the indian woman,
rejected by Hollywood
and the neighbor on 'The Lane'.
Perhaps a star is needed,
not an Ombumboy
for George Soros
and the Moniests
Above the Horn,
Beyond the Reef,
On the Hill.