“Top of the Morning to ‘Yuh, Guv’nuh.”*

Oh, to be father of a
Cockney flower girl,
To be Eliza Doolittle’s
Dear old Dad,
Alfred P. of that surname.
Oh, to be a cockney dustman,
On this fine day,
Another fine day in
Northern New Mexico, as I
Sell my daughter to
‘Enery Iggins, or
Some equivalent
Princeton poofter.
I am Rhett Butler,
Daring blockade-runner,
Persona –non-grata*
For any decent
Family—including my own,
Charleston Carolina.
In time, I crave
Social acceptance for
Bonnie Blue—my ill fated
Would-be equestrian offspring;
I surrender my daughter to the
Upper Class.

Who does it hurt?
Domestically,
North Dakota, the worst,
But New Mexico also,
Just to bring it home to me,
Here on the high mesa
That is Northern New Mexico,
At one time The Northern Viceroy,
Empire Americana,
His Majesty Philip I,
King of Spain’s
Duke of Earl Moment--
Felipe’s 16th Century
That was Europe.
But I digress.

Dropping oil prices have to,
Must impact the Arab Oil-
Producing World in a most
Un-delightful way.
Perhaps it’s time to
Put the screws to our
Islamic brethren?
The Powers that be—
Our pals at the World Economic Forum,
The Nabobs of WEF,
Getting together again at Davos or
Some other insanely affluent playground,
This time deciding
These barbaric decapitations
Have gone quite far enough.

I self-indulged—
For me a rare
Lapse, an unexpected
Slide to materialism.
Repenting already,
My selfishness.
I bought myself
Internet Radio.
How could I resist?
E-Tail has made it so easy.
GOTO Amazon Electronics.
•Amazon.com: Electronicswww.amazon.com/electronics-store/b?ie=UTF8... Amazon.com, Inc. Online shopping from a great selection at Electronics Store. ... Electronics. Shop for TV & Video, ... Featured Offers in Electronics ... Electronics Categories • ($“Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching!$ Ads in the middle of the freaking poem!”)
The omnipresent marketplace:
Shop at home in your pajamas,
Pay for it with keystrokes,
Go back to sleep.
FOR SALE:  Hail to thee,
Oh bittersweet Credo of Capitalism!
I finally broke down,
Accepting the fact that
RADIO: once a wireless marvel;
Now, a fading media option,
Its broadcast range
Not only shrunk, but
Signal reception, downright poor.
So, I finally broke down
Bought a radio that actually works.
So what I want to know
Is NPR so full of itself that
They go so far to find some
British-accent guy to read
Sports summaries?
I am listening to some
Pompous Pommy poofter,
At KBOS, Boston, Massachusetts,
Nigel Longshanks, himself,
Recapping “The Run for the Roses,”
Kentucky Derby homestretch,
Missed NBA semi-final foul shot &
The freakish mojo comeback of
Yankee Baseball Bad Boy: A-ROD.

Huck: a perfect example
Of the effect bio-mechanical
Protocols have on the human mind,
Saludos, amigo!
“Hats Off to Larry!”

DEL SHANNON- " HATS OFF TO LARRY " (W/LYRICS ...
▶ 2:03 www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXpJVmxHXc8 Nov 7, 2009 - Uploaded by rwells47 LYRICS: “Once I had a pretty girl, Her name it doesn't matter; She went away with another guy-- Now he won't...”

(That’s right, another commercial ad right in the middle of a freaking poem. $Ka-ching, Ka-ching!$)

Or, “That's Some Bad Hat Harry.”
“Ever notice at the end of shows there are those cards that fill the screen with names of bizarre production companies, sometimes animated and sometimes with sound (“That’s some bad hat, Harry.”)? Those are called vanity cards. When writer/creators form their own production company (and they all do) they’re entitled to a vanity card.”
Case in point?
Forgive my self-promotion but
The sheer freaking brilliance of
The character that is HUCK,
Simply overwhelms me
Now, there’s a secretive dude.
It took us 5 freaking seasons to
Get his real freaking name.
Diego Muñoz:
What else don’t we
Know about you, Huck?
Huck, you perfectly twisted,
Psychotic, psychopath
I’ve grown so fond of.
Of course, you have always
Been acting a part,
Playing a role,
To wit: Guillermo Diaz.
You’ve come a long way,
A very long way, from Jersey,
Memo.

There’s always been a counter-culture.
And by counter-culture
I do not mean the CPAs or CEOs,
Or those money **’s at Goldman-Sachs,
Nor do I conjure up a ****** of Brooklynese,
Some De Niro or Pacino, or
Bobby-come-lately Cannavale--
This decade’s guinea strunz--
Standing on the back of the truck
Checking his hand full of dollar--
As in Almighty Dollar--bills.
Another hour’s pay & time to
“Count duh money.”
Nor do I mean Harvey Korman
In his greatest film role:
“Count De Monet,”
Part 1 of Mel Brooks’
History of the World:
Harvey as French fop, 1789,
And we may as well throw a
Sop to Cerberus with nary a
Bean Counter around, to be found.
And if you are with me thus far,
You may as well stick it out to the end.

What one word defines the counter-culture?
For me: RESISTANCE,
Any kneecap reflexive swim against the tide.
For Count DeMonet:  La Résistance.
When hair is short,
They grow theirs long,
Or shave their heads,
Pierce their tongues & *******,
Inka-dinka-dooing their epidermis,
Mere skin-deep commitment to Liberté,
Always the least tangible of
French tripartite banner slogans.
The French:
As always, putting up a good show,
Masters of illusion & flexibility
When it comes to ethnic integrity,
Captain Louie Renault, Vichy stooge,
Exemplar extraordinaire,
Double shocked to find gambling
Going on at Rick’s Café,
His morality to the wind,
Tacking strategically,
Playing it safe, as always, a
Fickle-finger to the weather.
The French: girlie men, bent over
Presenting bidet-puckered rectums,
For *** and Viet Cong humiliation,
Once again, declaring victory,
While slipping out the back door,
Wearing nothing but their socks.
But I digress.

The Counter-Culture,
A mile wide and a centimeter deep,
Putting up a good front,
A Potemkin still life,
In it for appearance sake,
Like Billy Crystal doing Fernando Lamas:
“It's better to look good
Than to feel good.”
Looking marvelous, of course,
All the girls want to be
The Dragon Tattoo girl,
Haunted & smart,
Solitary & suspicious,
Cybercrime wealthy.
Cashing in, raking in affluence;
The guys all with Bobbitt night sweats,
***** shriveled, shrunken ball-sacks,
Count De Monet
Counting duh money.

And it was at Mantua that my eyes
Turned into spiders & wove a web
To catch kindness on the wing.

“Mistakes were made.”
I quote at least three recent former U.S. Presidents,
Who wrote or spoke infamously in the passive voice.
Here’s a bit of history:
The words spoken by automated phone systems,
Were code written by computer programmers.
Computer geeks, revered for their cold logic and impartiality;
Like scientists taught to maintain objectivity,
When studying fascinating subjects like Base-2 Binary Codes,
Disk partitioning and hard drive defragmentation.
Impersonal, the passive voice avoids sentiment,
Steers clear of pesky opinions unfounded on certainty or proof.
Unsurprisingly, the passive voice seeped quickly,
Into the language of politicians,
Our beloved rogues and rapscallions,
Hiding truth, avoiding accountability and culpability.
Practitioners of political science,
They bob and weave and spin.
Yes, mistakes were made.