Monday, July 18, 2011

Little White House Memories!

0649/2017 82/90 Blue Skies and Thunder SE 10/15 80%H.
DOGS 12385 9602 1606 40.20. Libor 13. Vix 20.

Greetings from the Hill.

Dark dark black ominous clouds,
thundering on all sides of the island,
the oldman without a camera
on his return from Faustos
with four pounds of beer...
he drank forty pounds last week
but gained only five,
"And that from the 'Chili Delight',"
laughed the madone getting fatter.

A departure from gross out photos
and the indiscretions of lust and power,
wondering perhaps if the past has links
to the road traveled or considered,
great leaders finding something special
on this small island paradise
that allows the essence of the inner soul
to genuflect upon matters beyond the self
and relate to the higher orders
of duty, country and God.

Transcending the puerile ambitions
of power, prominence and prestige
to pursue benevolence and kindness
with the hard eye of TRUTH.

"Hofuckingho...Not with this JOKER,"
snorted no fan.

Sometimes the heart acts against convention,
the blossom of love blooming
from a strange stem needing to grow
in a garden where all is accepted...
where nothing is unusual,
merely variations on nature's
peculiarities.

"Good women often have gay husbands,"
said that jew detective on 'Law and Order',
he raped Charles Bronson's daughter
and should have stayed a FLY.

George Sr. had a funny way himself...
but Prescott was said to shame him.

Family secrets run deep.

"Fantastic, absolutely fantastic,"
he beamed and belched at the same time,
now Billyboy could eat all day,
have a nap and eat all night,
Key West was gourmet cooking to him,
locals loved him and tourists
suspected he was an 'actor'.

Of course the entourage seemed intimidating,
but most all were drunk by sunset,
those watching and wondering
still developed film.

"Key West is a leap into the past,
'Like Impeachment'...," sneering
when leaving.

The oldman wondered about those missiles,
paraded along Smathers Beach
set to shoot down the Russian missiles
aimed towards Washington...
sort of looked like the Libyans
defending against NATO...
only assbackwards,
most peculiar..Castro is still here,
eighty miles away.

"And WHO killed Kennedy...
Alger claims 'it' was one of 'THEM'."

Another fucked up American family.

The General warned the people he saved,
but prosperity had a way of eliminating
bad memories and hard times...
eating grits and rubbery conch,
fishing for a living,
no dirt to grow an orchid,
the Korean War was over
and Key West was a Naval Base.

"Where the fuck are the submarines?"

"One day the eye in the sky will see all
and record the happenings for the record,"
said Lenny Bruce before ending 'it'.

Harry really didn't give a shit...
he'd lost the family farm
but his daughter had a piano
and wrote novels...
got to talk on TV.

He hated fishing.

He certainly wasn't going to rot
on some pissant island writing memoirs,
maybe get a degree from Oxford,
piss off the Democrats
and play Paderewski in the 'East Room'
for Jackie and Jack,
enjoying life with Bess
in Independence.

Of course across the Atlantic sin pervades
as morality replicates America,
time delay in the deception
with the enhancement of communication,
Cable, Internet and Facebook,
weapons of the aggregaters,
spectators of their own stupidity
with fame in their brain,
imagining what isn't
in the mirror.

Shadow banking, secret accounts,
all opaque and determined to be fake,
by the keepers of accounts
and watchers of records.

One World...pretending All.

"Oh, shit in the grass, not 'THEM' again,
the world is a stage and we are but
poor actors performing in the theatre
of the absurdly stupidones,
smartones acting dumbones....."
coughed the oldman laughing
in his sunset pints
and his clever way with words...
like madone.

Bank of America is on a slide
shorted by guess fucking who,
down down we go on a ride
and the SEC won't sue.

"Do you think Obama has done this
with malice and forethought,"
wonders the Mason Master,
once a George Bush Ranger,
not yet foreclosed
in Homestead.

Above the Horn.

Inside the Reef.

Content on the Hill.

1 comment:

  1. Aww stormy mellow Mondays , good for blogs !
    *5lbs , whos kidding whos BooBoos ! soaking wet you still weigh in at 130lbs .
    I just HOPE Norman does not get lost picking strawberries again!

    ReplyDelete