20/20 Gonzo 4: Crackheads

It is all incredible, fantastic, and beautiful.  All the time and always, in each instance and case, whatever the outcome, whatever the eventual reality.  But the road is full of junk and debris, years of neglect and abuse.  Cracks and crackheads, hitchers and hikers.  Truckers and truckstops.

Don't taunt the young and decorated, she bites back.  Looking for the money train, steaming through Europe, chugging through Asia.  Like a modern day, war thirsty, Marco Polo.  Selling missles for cash, getting paid for protection, slopping in the mud.  And crossing the Hawaiian Pearl.

Take the lecture, write it down, wad it up, wrap it tightly with duct tape.  Like a ball, almost.  Then, take it and put it in a special place, one that can be remembered, back from where it came, where all shit comes from.  This classroom will not be quiet, we will teach the teachers.

Less Is Best

Some simplification of the situation.
Less is best.
Bit of hesitation with that valuation.
Empty nest.
Quick clarification of that indication.
Be my guest.
An interpretation of our conversation.
Time to rest.

20/20 Gonzo 3: Viper Vapor

Throw out the rules, the rules indicate that it's fine to throw out the rules.  This document is dead as a fallen tree, like bones left from the prehistoric people, like backward hillbilly music.  Stand and point, shake with anger.  Third rate is right, the second raters all agree.  And now, the first raters will make the final call.

Lawyers and motions everywhere, pocket books and money clips.  Swag, like never seen.  The puppets must meet in the smokeless backrooms, only viper vapor allowed.  Big short boss gets on the line and starts hissing, pissing, and dissing.  Looking like the guy in Mall Cop, drowning sorrows in a bowl of alfredo sauce.

Listen Turkey, pull up your sanity and go for peace.  Take out the troublemakers one by one.  Too many cameras and robotic weapons to consider actual war in the modern world.  War that's relentless, war that's extreme, war that's inhumane, war that's gruesome, war that's soulless, war that's savage.  The only way wars are won.   

Dark Red Shadows

That clock keeps ticking.
In the early quiet hours.
While the symphony plays.
Totally in tune.
Living and letting live.
The grill keeps the flavor forever.
Each cut, each pepper, each ear.
Like a smokehouse.
Everything tastes of slow burn.
Old stories of old days.
Only good time memories and heroes.
The conquered and the drunken.
Grifting schemes and bags of visions.
Days filled with amusements.
Activities and destinations.
Goals and feats, high fives and shakes.

Begin with a bracket, get the equipment.
Reasonable and minimal rules.
Fetching, slinging, and basket work.
Could barnstorm if we wanted.
Sign up the locals, do a Friday workshop.
They wouldn't know what happened.
We would clean up.
Like the early days in Akron.
Jim Thorpe and Red Grange.
Specific rules adopted.
Agreements and acknowledgements.
Protect the integrity of the game.
It needs no bells and whistles.

The valley is full of brush.
Trails cut nicely and worn flat.
Buffalo stay up on the ridge.
Grazing and ignoring.
Vast grasslands surround the canyon.
Ranger station closed for no fee lunch.
The staff has been cut.
Down below the canyon walls glare.
Sculptures carved by wind and water.
Dark red shadows in the afternoon sun.
Careful steps and constant lunging.
Scaling the wall with all four limbs.
Up to the flattop, with the high far view.
To the east, like a green lush bed.
Red rails, with vultures gliding overhead.

Whooshing By

GGCC
DCGG

Dash across the highway, nothing better to do on a Wednesday afternoon, after school, before dinner, sun still blazing. 

It's the right time to waste some time, it must be planned, while spiraling out of control like a bottlerocket with a broken tail wing, under a bright moon.

Time was when things like this didn't happen, when people cared about each other, let's freeze it down, stop life when it's good, when days glowed all day.

We could ride all the way to town, ain't worried about no shoulder, think the road is big enough for everyone, won't be hard hearing them whooshing by.

20/20 Gonzo 2: Boa Constrictors

Going on about convictions and the importance of standing.  Perfect mohawk, shining with hair product and sharp cuts.  Logical eating advocacy and pointless insights.  What a leader!  Despite righteousness, seems like he's hiding something.

The flashlights are getting close, all this cash comes from somewhere.  Rationalized by snakes.  The boa constrictors are out.  Squeezing tightly to suffocate their last bit of dignity.  Oxygen deprived and not prepared for the inevitable humiliations and prosecutions.

The elderly should step back and enjoy the view.  Power trips are for the young, and most are wise enough to realize.  The esteem of self is mischaracterized, the pompous are usually frail.  They preen stupidly and eventually embarrass themselves.  Choking on humble chili. 

20/20 Gonzo 1: Grease Reduction

Considering the choices, perhaps it is reasonable.  These golden years are tainted already.  Disgust and ridicule, ambivelence and vindication.  By all indications it is a farce, a game, a petty episode of punked.  Behind the WiFi, stuck on rewind.

Reaching forward, we have made amends and understand.  Overall, we demand bribe grease reduction, money changing hands.  Called negotiations between business or government interests, once personal accounts are involved, it's called bribery.  Lard.  Slippery slime slingers.

Between the news cycles, when the wine really sinks in, the envious scheme.  Convinced of brilliance and counting on gullibility.  Maximum peer pressure, the prospect of being unwoke.  But the comedy is sour, laced with anger and shame. Suppose it's some signs of some times.