jpaulgorman

  Times, they are a'rearranging.  The clarity of greed is too much to see, the depths humans will sink to taste its fruit.  The things we'll justify, the excuses we'll make.  Blinders, earmuffs, muzzles, novocaine, Old Spice, whatever it takes.  Numb and dumb. Reckon they'll be a reckoning.  High crimes and felonies, officials of the criminal kind.  The red meat is marinaded, cook it to a medium rare, char some grill marks.  Get that final sizzle before seasoning.  Butter it up. The fatsos ate the entire steak, even the grissle.  The cooks and waitstaff went hungry.  All the bread was devoured, sopping up the final juices on the plates.  Stomachs are churning, enzymes are breaking, green bile is oozing, bowels are moving.  Crickets are chirping.

  Wait for what some dude named Jerome decides.  Sure it'll be brilliant, teetering between a cliff and a mountain, balancing like a wire walker.  His brain figures thousands of mathematical equations subconsciously.  His intuition is staggering, his breath smells of fruit and mint, his shoes are spotless.  His voice, hypnotic. He's a fighter and he will fight and fight, he will decide and decide, he will determine the pivot when he determines the pivot.  Courageosness has never seen such courage.  Hike, hike, hike.  The guy never stops, huff, puff, dump, pump.  Like a frenzied, horney rabbit. Drop that carrot.  Time for some chewing and brewing and getting a clueing.  Do nothing.  The best you can do is nothing, which is saying something.  You've done enough, go back to your hole.

  Look, he knows nothing about the millions of bucks.  Look, he's a fighter for the low down.  Look, he once saved a whole swimming pool from a menace.  Look, he was a stutterer as a youth.  Look, he's just touchy feely, he only looks like a groper on TV.  Look, his favorite son died. Look, he answers questions.  Look, he's got great people around him.  Look, time for the rich to pay their fair share.  Look, Clarence Thomas was wrong about him being a high tech lyncher.  Look, his 2nd wife is a school teacher.  Look, his 2nd son is crack addicted.  Look, his daughter is off limits.  Look, Robert Byrd was a reformed Klansman.  Look, those segregation buses in the 70's were polluting the air.  Look, he's an old bastard.

  Let it fly, have a word, interrupt.  Say anything once again, the constraints are gone.  Apathy eventually does its magic. Careful in your cares, grace all in your eyes.  It's the only way to really see. You could be somebody's something, but they have themselves in mind.  As designed, survival instincts run deep.  Eternal thinking thinks different, without the woe is me, without the poor, poor, pitiful.  Keep this body going as long as possible, park it a bit more, go electric, cruise.  Do less, be more. These are mere numbers, broken down, ratioed, divided, and factored.  Then recycled as shiny new percentages, expert sentiments, and quarterly prospects.  Hash it, smash it, crash it.  Another meeting, another remark, more determination and bravery and other meaningless claims.  More manipulation.

  Banks, banks, run for the banks!  Same spooky scenarios, quit backing up your backs with mortgages, bankers.  Maybe some newbie who wasn't around in '09, watch for the pivot soon.  Invest in something valuable and lasting, something with prospects.  Water it down, put out the fire with another flush. The finance heads have nothing to say, the finger pointing goes both ways, so complex, so ununderstandable.  Trust is in short supply.  Cut the regulators out, proof of purchase is the way.  Wait for earnings, these cuts run deep, the fat was waving heavy, it was tough to balance.  Only the lean and smart survive. Let the sea clunkers sink.  Let them rust on the bottom, the future is plastics and drones and electric, invisible submarines.  The future is blended with the past always, but it is much more important and exciting.  Doom does nothing but whine, gloom gonna be just fine.  Get your sleep.

  In one ear, out the other.  The middle is confusion, thinking and ignoring.  Calming down, hopefully, with music and curiosity.  Sleep must be induced, a dose of dreams injected, time well spent.  Still and meaningful. The movie's out, but everyone's already seen it.  Those pirates can't be trusted, their words are vapor, their thoughts are shallow, their hearts are cold.  In it for the booty, in it for the gold.  That fishy smell is their cologne. Reek. On to other matters.  We scared the pants off them ingrates with a little strain.  Wait 'til next year when the sun becomes too dangerous, when the sky falls, when aliens infiltrate, when the earth cracks, when pigs fly, when the boogie people arrive.  Let the prisoners die, we ruined their lives anyway.  In the name of the people.

  Different jokes for different folks, hope the comics can survive.  Pay per view, skip the news, listen to it live.  No need to rehearse, what's first is first, ain't committing no crime.  Got some cash, got my stash, still in my prime.  And on and on in that rhyming pattern, spitting truth and defending and justifying, and finally, realizing. This soup has simmered for days and days, line up the muskrats for the supper bell.  Eat your mush first, there is no fruit.  Know the opposite is true.  Patriotism is the final rope for the hung.  The final thread. Down on the streets, life is nice.  Spring has a way.  Grass spouting up, flower buds preparing, shade trees leafing up.  America's not gone for good, we know the ending.  We're not born to be ruled, not raised to be quiet, not conditioned to get tired.

  Gimme. Gimme. Gimme. That legacy drug. Lemme have the bottle. Gonna take a slug. Let's talk awhile Face to face. Tell me your troubles. Get shit faced. Slur your words Talk loud and spit. Think you're funny. Get wacko lit. Then the come down. Stumbling to the car. Lost all dignity. Got kicked out the bar. Body's all aching, cold and shaking, don't remember much at all.  Guess I puked on my new suit, woke up in this hall.  Last night's a blur, abdolutely absurd, rounds and rounds of shots.  Lost my money, slapped by my honey, stomach's tied up in knots. Gimme. Gimme. Gimme. That legacy drug. Lemme have the bottle. Gonna take a slug. EAx4//DADADDAA

  Walked out to my front yard. Like I always do. Read the morning funnies. Enjoy my Columbian brew. Removed the rubber band. Pulled my section out. Dilbert prolly dissing on the managers. I'll get a cackle, no doubt. Just looked weird at first. His space had gone unused. Guess they put him in the dog house. The Plain Dealer Blues. Nothing to do around here. Rusty blizzards and chemical spills. Might as well tell them to go to hell. Quit paying my subscription bill. EAx2 DA DAE