2/26/17

The Money Tree


In space it must be quiet.
Silence we've never not heard.
Eternal empty hollowness.
Nothing filling the space.
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
Answers to questions of the day.
The puzzle is always taking form.
Billions of eyes continue the search.
Soundwaves of mute.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Points of view and scripts.
Intellectuals cannot be understood.
They are well known to be wrong.
Common fools in the end.
Echo.
Echo.
Echo.
Bribery will not work anymore.
These scoundrels and thieves.
Innocent palms were nailed.
To the money tree.
Greed.
Greed.
Greed.
This prizefight is full of action.
Body punches and hooks.
Jabs connecting with iron chins.
Spit buckets and broken noses.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Rumble on, rumble on.

It's Still Last Night

  This orange juice tastes funny. Where's all my money? Thought it'd be more sunny. Wonder what time it is. Clock says eight thirty ...