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"lawsuit" poems
Grandma got run over by a reindeer I'm sure you remember that song Well that was my grandma who was hit And again, they got part of it wrong See, she really was run over by reindeer But it was nothing like they said Those deer were driving a milk truck That left my poor grandma nearly dead My poor grandma just got done milking And was putting the cows back in the field When eight drunk reindeer in a milk truck Crashed thru the fence and didn't yield They just kept on going thru the barn yard Straight thru the creek and down the hill Grandma looked like a bug on a windshield With pieces of her wig on that milk truck's grill Now poor grandma never seen it coming Cause she was looking the other way We even found that poor womans glasses Stuck on a scarecrow near the hay Well, now my grandma had not been drinking Like that song had claimed she was But somehow they try to make it funny Seems like those city folk always does Well, that's about as much as I can tell you Because the lawsuit is still pending Those reindeer got some north pole lawyer And we heard he's pretty good at defending So beware of reindeer driving milktrucks For they mean to cause your grandma harm And don't forget try to remind your grandmas To look both ways when she leaves the barn
0
Apr 1, 2010
Apr 1, 2010 at 2:44 PM UTC
Grandma Got Run Over By A Milk Truck
Islamist Extremists. Boat Capsized. Obama and Nelson Mandela. Celebrity Lies. Plane Crash. Forest Fires. Missing Girl. Handgun-buyers. Amazon Lawsuit. ANT-MAN. Low Supplies! Walmart Empty Shelves. Chinese Food Scandal. Microsoft Layoffs. Heat and Gasoline. Oil. Mad Max! Comic Book Convention Drama. Breast Lumps and Swelling. Television. Veteran's Hospitals. Israel and Gaza Fight On. Beachgoers Hit by Lightning. Baseball Drinking Songs. Sci-fi, Wi-fi, Ebola, and Libya. Ukraine. Venezuela. Marriage. Liver failure. Allen Webster. USA. RACE CARS. Global Catastrophe Down to Warming of the Earth. Dinosaurs Had Feathers. MH17. Profits. Desert Bakery. Syria. We Must be Mad. Philippines: 100 Million People on an Island. Salmonella Lawsuit. Cheeseburger Diet. Twinkies Never Going Bad. Putin, Palin, and the Tour de France. Fracking. Cats and Dogs.
0
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
News
There is ***** for sale and wombs for rent For same *** couples it’s cash well spent. While heterosexuals breed their own Gay couples, as yet, cannot clone. A lesbian couple who had the itch is suing their ***** bank for “bait and switch”. They wanted a Caucasian baby and had requested ***** from vial “380”. The donor of that ***** was white, Handsome, smart, just “not their type” They were given another’s ***** instead And an interracial child was bred. It seems they were given vial “330” The vials, it seems, were marked unclearly. An honest mistake by a nearsighted boomer?- or one with a twisted sense of humor? A civil suit will go to trial seeking damages for a mixed race child. If their motion to dismiss should meet denial The “bank” will suffer premature withdrawal. In which event bankruptcy looms For the bank that supplies the ***** for wombs.
0
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 7:33 AM UTC
***** bank Lawsuit
This job is just one long drawn out lobotomy. Hey quit putting gum on the bottom of these desks you ******* I can think of a few ways to get out of here but I don't think I can afford a ****** harassment lawsuit. I'm about 2 minutes away from a faking a seizure and about 5 from a real one. Hey Guantanamo Bay, are your methods of torture outdated and boring? Then have I got a deal for you... You think you can just drop Seinfeld references and I won't pick up on them? You thought wrong, ***** I think I lost the ability to see color... All work and no play makes Ashton a dull boy... I'm still waiting on Betty White to crawl her old *** out here and tell me this is some kind of practical joke. Homelessness is looking more and more like a serious option Don't pull the fire alarm. Don't pull the fire alarm. Don't pull the fire alarm. Enough is enough! I have had it with all these ************* boogers on these ************* desks!
0
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
Rants of a Teenage Janitor
If god was a real person , I'd sue . For floppy ***** , And gaping eye sockets . Misplaced fat pockets Stretch marks and paranoid doobs. For photoshopped pictures And singles mixers And never being able to properly chew My words Before I spit them out For men that don't ask before they mount And for all the doubt . For protesters in front of abortion Clinics and mimics . And being more creative without your adoration . For false salvation .
0
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
Lawsuit
Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A., The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Fret for your figure and Fret for your latte and Fret for your lawsuit and Fret for your hairpiece and Fret for your Prozac and Fret for your pilot and Fret for your contract and Fret for your car, It's a ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A., The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Some say a comet will fall from the sky. Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves. Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still. Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits. Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will cause I sure could use a vacation from this Stupid **** silly **** stupid **** One great big festering neon distraction, I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied: Learn to swim. [x2] Mom's gonna fix it all soon. Mom's coming 'round to put it back the way it ought to be. Learn to swim. **** L. Ron Hubbard and **** all his clones. **** all these gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes. Learn to swim. **** retro anything. **** your tattoos. **** all you junkies and **** your short memory. Learn to swim. **** smiley glad-hands with hidden agendas. **** these dysfunctional, Insecure actresses. Learn to swim. Cause I'm praying for the end; I'm praying for tidal waves I wanna see the ground give way. I wanna watch it all go down. Mom, please flush it all away! I wanna see it go right in and down. I wanna watch it go right in. Watch you flush it all away. Time to bring it down again. Don't just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines. I can't imagine why you wouldn't Welcome any change, my friend. I wanna see it all come down. **** it down. Flush it down.
0
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
'Ænema' by Tool
Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A., The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Fret for your figure and Fret for your latte and Fret for your lawsuit and Fret for your hairpiece and Fret for your Prozac and Fret for your pilot and Fret for your contract and Fret for your car, It's a ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A., The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Some say a comet will fall from the sky. Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves. Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still. Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits. Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will cause I sure could use a vacation from this Stupid **** silly **** stupid **** One great big festering neon distraction, I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied: Learn to swim. [x2] Mom's gonna fix it all soon. Mom's coming 'round to put it back the way it ought to be. Learn to swim. **** L. Ron Hubbard and **** all his clones. **** all these gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes. Learn to swim. **** retro anything. **** your tattoos. **** all you junkies and **** your short memory. Learn to swim. **** smiley glad-hands with hidden agendas. **** these dysfunctional, Insecure actresses. Learn to swim. Cause I'm praying for the end; I'm praying for tidal waves I wanna see the ground give way. I wanna watch it all go down. Mom, please flush it all away! I wanna see it go right in and down. I wanna watch it go right in. Watch you flush it all away. Time to bring it down again. Don't just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines. I can't imagine why you wouldn't Welcome any change, my friend. I wanna see it all come down. **** it down. Flush it down.
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70
~ *No malls on weekends No feathers for tourism No stopping to read the graffiti No having lunch with relative hysteria No making friends and acquaintances In the paperless world And no *** music You see, the common faith is doubt All wonder, no reason The hole in your pocket Becomes the hole in your head And the last lawsuit You'll ever need* ~
0
Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 1:11 PM UTC
Terms and Conditions
Amidst created worries, troubles and troubles, as if I were falling into a gaping abyss, half-balancing on the edge of animals, hyena-scavengers, like a shaky-legged, slightly hesitant, underestimated tightrope walker, - I can deliberately hold on or not in the draft of depravity. In the purgatory of an endless rail, as if I were one of those Bosch could have painted in his lifetime; a gathering of hell-shaped soul-shadow visions ready to rage. It would be nice to hide back at least sometimes in some strange, sprawling Hawaiian wilderness, where crystal-clear, raw-visceral emotions can also manifest themselves more emphatically, more faithfully to themselves. A middle-aged rose withers and withers in the filth of big cities, because there was no one left to console her instead of her selfish strawman-peddler husband; because even hook-nosed prophets fall for whales, after devouring even the smallest tadpole embryos. Forever chained as mere passengers in spiral circles, because that is how people are now, intentionally tied to the work methods of unbearable, unfulfillable working hours, petty-gallant deadlines. Because now it seems that washerwomen and hostess models are once again selling their commodity love for tinkling silver coins, until another incomprehensible, twisted property division lawsuit comes; "Daddy and Mommy really love you children! You just know that Mommy and Daddy can't stand each other anymore!" They would rather drown each other in a spoonful of water, if they could do that!" - Thus, the slow, conscious disillusionment can still remain. Among the calculated, manipulative genres of attempts and cheap escapes, there is certainly no one left who would actually understand their job and act as their heart commands?! - A casual party queen or a diva imitating luxury is handing out slaps with stamps stuck on guest masks.
0
Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 12:40 AM UTC
PURGATORY OF ENDLESS DEPTHS
Amidst created worries, troubles and troubles, as if I were falling into a gaping abyss, half-balancing on the edge of animals, hyena-scavengers, like a shaky-legged, slightly hesitant, underestimated tightrope walker, - I can deliberately hold on or not in the draft of depravity. In the purgatory of an endless rail, as if I were one of those Bosch could have painted in his lifetime; a gathering of hell-shaped soul-shadow visions ready to rage. It would be nice to hide back at least sometimes in some strange, sprawling Hawaiian wilderness, where crystal-clear, raw-visceral emotions can also manifest themselves more emphatically, more faithfully to themselves. A middle-aged rose withers and withers in the filth of big cities, because there was no one left to console her instead of her selfish strawman-peddler husband; because even hook-nosed prophets fall for whales, after devouring even the smallest tadpole embryos. Forever chained as mere passengers in spiral circles, because that is how people are now, intentionally tied to the work methods of unbearable, unfulfillable working hours, petty-gallant deadlines. Because now it seems that washerwomen and hostess models are once again selling their commodity love for tinkling silver coins, until another incomprehensible, twisted property division lawsuit comes; "Daddy and Mommy really love you children! You just know that Mommy and Daddy can't stand each other anymore!" They would rather drown each other in a spoonful of water, if they could do that!" - Thus, the slow, conscious disillusionment can still remain. Among the calculated, manipulative genres of attempts and cheap escapes, there is certainly no one left who would actually understand their job and act as their heart commands?! - A casual party queen or a diva imitating luxury is handing out slaps with stamps stuck on guest masks.
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4
Just mahogany and horsehide glue, machine heads and a ***** or two. Plywood top, solid sides and back, bone and fake ivory, ebony, and shellac. Steel and bronze wire, to make her ring. A well placed sound hole to let her sing. But for love or money I played here every week, for 30 years she has earned my keep. Four star restaurants, or beer soaked bars, or serenading a lover under summer night stars. A joyous birthday, sad funeral of a friend, she's always been there, on one I can depend. Drunken'- Dancin' New Years Eve bashes, barbequed sun baked poolside splashes. St. Valentine's Day love songs, wine and roses, or a smoky old blues club that never closes. A nursing home sing along on St. Patty's day, a hurricane party till we all got blown away. Christmas carols by soft candlelight, I've played this guitar most every night. From Florida to Canada, Vegas to NYC, from Frank Sinatra, to Conway Twitty. Zeppelin to Bach, JT to Pink Floyd, anything to keep me from being employed. One night in Nashville Greg Allman played on her, And asked me to join him, oh what an honor. We make people happy, we bring them together, when I play on her I am as light as a feather. Some fell in love, and got married from our tunes, some nights we're alone on sugar beach dunes. She's filled up my tip jar, and filled up my heart. Because of this guitar my life got its start. I've sat up with her all night, when she was sick, changed strings a million times, broken many a pick. Caressed her, strummed her, as she dashed my fears, cussed her and ****** her, as she tasted my tears. With her I wooed my lover, until she married me. She has been my addiction, and she has set me free. They applaud for me, but she's really the star. I know it's just wood and wire, but she's my guitar. ###====(==O==== )###====(==O==== ) ###====(==O==== ) For my Takamine "Lawsuit" I bought in Nashville in 1982.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Wood and Wire ###====(==O==== )
Just mahogany and horsehide glue, machine heads and a ***** or two. Plywood top, solid sides and back, bone and fake ivory, ebony, and shellac. Steel and bronze wire, to make her ring. A well placed sound hole to let her sing. But for love or money I played here every week, for 30 years she has earned my keep. Four star restaurants, or beer soaked bars, or serenading a lover under summer night stars. A joyous birthday, sad funeral of a friend, she's always been there, on one I can depend. Drunken'- Dancin' New Years Eve bashes, barbequed sun baked poolside splashes. St. Valentine's Day love songs, wine and roses, or a smoky old blues club that never closes. A nursing home sing along on St. Patty's day, a hurricane party till we all got blown away. Christmas carols by soft candlelight, I've played this guitar most every night. From Florida to Canada, Vegas to NYC, from Frank Sinatra, to Conway Twitty. Zeppelin to Bach, JT to Pink Floyd, anything to keep me from being employed. One night in Nashville Greg Allman played on her, And asked me to join him, oh what an honor. We make people happy, we bring them together, when I play on her I am as light as a feather. Some fell in love, and got married from our tunes, some nights we're alone on sugar beach dunes. She's filled up my tip jar, and filled up my heart. Because of this guitar my life got its start. I've sat up with her all night, when she was sick, changed strings a million times, broken many a pick. Caressed her, strummed her, as she dashed my fears, cussed her and ****** her, as she tasted my tears. With her I wooed my lover, until she married me. She has been my addiction, and she has set me free. They applaud for me, but she's really the star. I know it's just wood and wire, but she's my guitar. ###====(==O==== )###====(==O==== ) ###====(==O==== ) For my Takamine "Lawsuit" I bought in Nashville in 1982.
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42
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection* What you are about to read will shock you. Some may find it extremely disturbing. I will tell you from the outset, also, that i am quite "insane". According to the psychiatrists "Schizo-Affective". Manic-Depressive with Paranoid features. I will freely admit that what you will read here will sound crazy. But please read on. It may be horrifying. It may be weird. It may seem extremely paranoid. But it still interests. It is my desperate hope that you will read. And believe me. For, my "diagnosis" notwithstanding, I am as sane as the next "normal" person. *I AM NOT A LUNATIC!* What you are about to read really happened. *To ME*. It has plot twisting tension that could be put to the credit of Alfred Hitchcock. And a psychological horror that Steven King could emulate. How could I compare my writing to the genius of those great & talented men? I don't. Because, dear readers, I did not conceive of it. It was done to me. I merely convey the technology and techniques used to make any "normal person" appear a ****** Toon of 50 mile high proportions! It exists. And it is excruciatingly painful to be the subject of it. So why would a girl from a comparatively small city, with no seeming accomplishments to commend her, and is actually quite unimportant, be the subject of such hateful torment? *What has she done?* I will convey ALL of the reasons. I did play a part in it. I had a tri-fold lawsuit against a once-high-profile video dating club, who wanted to prevent litigation by thoroughly discrediting me. And I had a very virulent and hateful foe... The "Church" of SCIENTOLOGY.
0
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
MADWOMAN ACROSS THE WATER (PART I)
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection* What you are about to read will shock you. Some may find it extremely disturbing. I will tell you from the outset, also, that i am quite "insane". According to the psychiatrists "Schizo-Affective". Manic-Depressive with Paranoid features. I will freely admit that what you will read here will sound crazy. But please read on. It may be horrifying. It may be weird. It may seem extremely paranoid. But it still interests. It is my desperate hope that you will read. And believe me. For, my "diagnosis" notwithstanding, I am as sane as the next "normal" person. *I AM NOT A LUNATIC!* What you are about to read really happened. *To ME*. It has plot twisting tension that could be put to the credit of Alfred Hitchcock. And a psychological horror that Steven King could emulate. How could I compare my writing to the genius of those great & talented men? I don't. Because, dear readers, I did not conceive of it. It was done to me. I merely convey the technology and techniques used to make any "normal person" appear a ****** Toon of 50 mile high proportions! It exists. And it is excruciatingly painful to be the subject of it. So why would a girl from a comparatively small city, with no seeming accomplishments to commend her, and is actually quite unimportant, be the subject of such hateful torment? *What has she done?* I will convey ALL of the reasons. I did play a part in it. I had a tri-fold lawsuit against a once-high-profile video dating club, who wanted to prevent litigation by thoroughly discrediting me. And I had a very virulent and hateful foe... The "Church" of SCIENTOLOGY.
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7
Madame Fury The Sun Has dropped Her lawsuit And settled with the Moon Tomorrow She'll pique and threaten Once more
0
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 10:53 AM UTC
In Her Resentful Twilight
in the light of the hassac-lantern the screaming becomes thoroughly interesting in the about-to-vanish forest-land the nocturnal shopping hangs vertically can you be able to get searched some white-holes under the unfathomable water then the visiting river should not take tablets to manage it blood-pressure now from the window of the town look at the running away of the tyre-less motor-cars and their changing of colours every now and then as if after a successful operation the new ant-hills are singing and dancing very much within so much noise some spoons remain quite indifferent it is heard that a lawsuit challenging the legal-status of their relation with the prickle  is being proceeded in an open court even standing before the court’s dock no green mango has told the truth so to do a usg report of the pendulum that remains static under the dream has become very much necessary
0
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 5:22 PM UTC
the earthy habitat 2
The lady skeleton walked with her companions The man of iron, the doll, the lawsuit, Al Capone, and a ninja On a night where you can be what you want And no one can judge you
0
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Halloween
She falls asleep with make up pressed from eyes, and lips, and skin transferring to a pillow lashes upon her being lacking its protectionist layer file a lawsuit missing it’s case she didn't care (How much can it hold?) Lawyers won’t take chances on a basket case And parents follow suit She only woke twice that night In case you want to know abstract dreamers can't take form when visionaries lock them in silent nights Suit yourselves
0
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
abstract dreamer
The judge and the lawyer, They are both me, I defend myself, As I condemn myself, I am witness, I am the murderer, I am the defender, I am the guilty, Death penalty, Or walking free, The decison is, Completely up to me.
0
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 12:35 PM UTC
Lawsuit
I wonder if when Thomas Jefferson scrawled out the Declaration he could see the world that I have come to know. I wonder if he would understand the nation that would blossom from under his inflammatory words. Would he know that the world would never be so simple as black and white if only because a racial lawsuit might come from it? Would he see the world burn up in a digital fire that no nostalgia would ever be able to quench? Would he know the society that would simultaneously spew rantings of "You're special" and "You are never going to be right enough to live here"? How about that war that taught the people that it's okay to hate those who fight so that you can love another day? Or even the world that has severed so deeply within its own walls that you can only hold on to you hearts and hope that might not be severed too? I wonder what this man could have been declaring so seriously that he would send men to war for it, just to have the papers he and his dear friends were writing on be the shield that politicians might use to prevent their fallout. Freedom is not objective. And Subjectively speaking, this freedom we've been given comes with about ten thousand terms and conditions that none of us are going to read anyway because this is Amurica and we don't do that here.
0
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
I wonder
An old and tattered Bible Is the crux of a dispute. Bernice King has possession of what her brothers see as loot. The book was dear to Doctor King thru trials and tribulations And with him on the Selma march in the days that changed the nation. To her; a priceless heirloom of King’s Dream to equalize. To her brothers it’s an asset that they hope to monetize. This book, signed by the President, is not a ****** prize to be bought by some collector and hid from others eyes. So now there is a lawsuit and I hope the judge is wise Wise as a modern Solomon in how he will decide. This Bible is a legacy, inspired word and proof Of what one man can accomplish when addicted to the Truth.
0
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
The Wisdom of Solomon
Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks Here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A. The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Fret for your figure and Fret for your latte and Fret for your lawsuit and Fret for your hairpiece and Fret for your Prozac and Fret for your pilot and Fret for your contract and Fret for your car. It's a ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks Here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A. The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Some say a comet will fall from the sky. Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves. Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still. Followed by millions of dumbfounded dip ***** Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will cause I sure could use a vacation from this Stupid **** silly **** stupid **** One great big festering neon distraction, I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied. Mom's gonna fix it all soon. Mom's comin' round to put it back the way it ought to be. **** L Ron Hubbard and **** all his clones. **** all these gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes. **** retro anything. **** your tattoos. **** all you junkies and **** your short memory. **** smiley glad-hands With hidden agendas. **** these dysfunctional, Insecure actresses. Cause I'm praying for rain And I'm praying for tidal waves I wanna see the ground give way. I wanna watch it all go down. Mom, please flush it all away. I wanna see it go right in and down. I wanna watch it go right in. Watch you flush it all away. Time to bring it down again. Don't just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines. I can't imagine why you wouldn't Welcome any change, my friend. I wanna see it all come down. Bring it down **** it down. Flush it down.
0
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
Ænema
Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will. I sure could use a vacation from this ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks Here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A. The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Fret for your figure and Fret for your latte and Fret for your lawsuit and Fret for your hairpiece and Fret for your Prozac and Fret for your pilot and Fret for your contract and Fret for your car. It's a ******** three ring circus sideshow of freaks Here in this hopeless ******* hole we call L.A. The only way to fix it is to flush it all away. Any ******* time. Any ******* day. Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona Bay. Some say a comet will fall from the sky. Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves. Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still. Followed by millions of dumbfounded dip ***** Some say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will cause I sure could use a vacation from this Stupid **** silly **** stupid **** One great big festering neon distraction, I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied. Mom's gonna fix it all soon. Mom's comin' round to put it back the way it ought to be. **** L Ron Hubbard and **** all his clones. **** all these gun-toting Hip gangster wannabes. **** retro anything. **** your tattoos. **** all you junkies and **** your short memory. **** smiley glad-hands With hidden agendas. **** these dysfunctional, Insecure actresses. Cause I'm praying for rain And I'm praying for tidal waves I wanna see the ground give way. I wanna watch it all go down. Mom, please flush it all away. I wanna see it go right in and down. I wanna watch it go right in. Watch you flush it all away. Time to bring it down again. Don't just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines. I can't imagine why you wouldn't Welcome any change, my friend. I wanna see it all come down. Bring it down **** it down. Flush it down.
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64
There’d been a factory here once, Squat red brick structure Suffused with too much noise and too little ventilation, Built for the purpose of making typewriters, Unwieldy, cacophonous clanking anachronisms Whose time, like the town it occupied, Had long since come and gone, The only businesses on the sad little main drag Being those shabby, tattered concerns Which flower, improbable and cactus-like At the intersection of the vagaries of memory And the ascent of decay. Nothing sits here now, Simply an empty lot returning to Nature, Although half-hearted attempts To accelerate that process have not taken root, As the soil, fouled by metal shavings, solvents, And only God knows what else, Has proved less than amenable To anything save weedy shoots and scrubby boxwoods, So it sits empty, impossible to build upon (There is liability in every spike of crabgrass, A potential lawsuit in every patch of clover) And wholly impractical as parkland. The firm which owned the site erected a fence To keep whatever was in there in and everyone else out (In their final addition of injury to insult, The check they gave to the fencing company in payment Bounced higher than a child’s rubber ball) But a generation of winters and general inattention Have left the chain-links a patchwork affair, And though the “POSTED” signs remain (Their original angry and officious red Having faded to a benign maroon), Enforcement of their edicts is spotty at best, So we sit, unbothered and alone, On an odd little mound at the back of the lot As the dusk begins to take hold, I, in an act of mad optimism, the peculiar positing That there are good things yet to come, Grab your hand, intertwining the fingers with mine.
0
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 10:56 AM UTC
love on the brownfield
There’d been a factory here once, Squat red brick structure Suffused with too much noise and too little ventilation, Built for the purpose of making typewriters, Unwieldy, cacophonous clanking anachronisms Whose time, like the town it occupied, Had long since come and gone, The only businesses on the sad little main drag Being those shabby, tattered concerns Which flower, improbable and cactus-like At the intersection of the vagaries of memory And the ascent of decay. Nothing sits here now, Simply an empty lot returning to Nature, Although half-hearted attempts To accelerate that process have not taken root, As the soil, fouled by metal shavings, solvents, And only God knows what else, Has proved less than amenable To anything save weedy shoots and scrubby boxwoods, So it sits empty, impossible to build upon (There is liability in every spike of crabgrass, A potential lawsuit in every patch of clover) And wholly impractical as parkland. The firm which owned the site erected a fence To keep whatever was in there in and everyone else out (In their final addition of injury to insult, The check they gave to the fencing company in payment Bounced higher than a child’s rubber ball) But a generation of winters and general inattention Have left the chain-links a patchwork affair, And though the “POSTED” signs remain (Their original angry and officious red Having faded to a benign maroon), Enforcement of their edicts is spotty at best, So we sit, unbothered and alone, On an odd little mound at the back of the lot As the dusk begins to take hold, I, in an act of mad optimism, the peculiar positing That there are good things yet to come, Grab your hand, intertwining the fingers with mine.
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Jaimin sir, a kind man, with smile cute, Prepared for supporting me in lawsuit Is ready to fight against any odd acute; Managing school and university with astute. In the premises everyone does salute! Revered for his perseverance which dilute All miseries, anxieties and commute Joyfully with him in leisure to compute Your mistakes and victories that overshoot. All liked him for his ability to refute. Grumped man speaks cool like flute Under omnipresence, one who does hoot Ruins his own impression and does salute; Unacceptable people do get execute Surely; teachers like me are with parachute Inspired by him to remove Prafulla persecute, Remove such drastic elements for institute.
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Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 7:57 AM UTC
ACROSTIC ON JAIMIN RAJYAGURU SIR
You broke the law, but you did not know that; The law too does not care if you are ignorant of it; You have a gutter for a mouth that is offensive; A defamation lawsuit is the soap to clean it. My Lord, if it pleases you may I ask why I am in the dock on my left, if am the complainant? Counsel, warn your client; it seems he too has a Gutter for a mouth that a court contempt can clean. My Lord, if we are starting on the wrong foot I beg to differ; may I withdraw the lawsuit; Complainant, for wasting the court’s time you are Sentence to seven hours of community service without fine. Any complaining about the bench is a Kamikaze lawsuit for the affairs of mankind are affairs of emotions.
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Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 6:59 AM UTC
Kamikaze lawsuit
Vallabh Savani is so kind and cute Above all, ready to help any boot – Low caste, low esteemed or kaput. Love through his blood does overshoot And sooths many Sankets who commute Benevolence to all generations coot. In dilemma and hassle, he is parachute; Help for a friend; foe and faulty to execute. Has contributed to campaign anti-pollute, Sighted orphans and settled destitute, Awarded teachers like me and persecute Vast enmity against him which substitute Allies as Hardik and myself in healthy lawsuit. Never saw him angry or upset as he commute; Insane behaviour is far as never did he salute Someone, but bowed his head to transmute Inner love and care to all old and his recruit. Remain healthy and wealthy! This my tribute.
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Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
MONORHYME ON VALLABH SAVANI SIR
To compensate for (A -Z) ineradicable alphanumeric character flaws (i.e. mutations of body or mind,) and avoid amass sing wracking up vexatiously undesirable threatening class action lawsuit against Matthew Scott Harris, which preliminary measure taken to avoid disembarrass sing said individual as a majorly flawed individual literal shortcomings of body, mind and spirit, the metier of writing doth encompass a creative realm to trump geomorphology, sans groundmass at the unsolicited expense (mine alter ego i.e. worst critic) will gleefully find, and expose grammatical, misspelling, spelling, et cetera errors to harass glommed together with isinglass hop, skip and jumping to appear as a ******* whereat no respect able collegiate lass would give a fig about me, one totally tubular royal morass, which expert anthropologists stumped asper nonclass if eye able **** sapiens mutant ninja turtle case in point being his wanting in height not e'en pass sing the six foot mark plus mental illness perhaps traceable to besotted cognitive damage inherited predecessors quaffing an overdose of quass made obvious peering at resulting Ct scan results viewed via microscopic spyglass revealing abnormal amygdala automatically designating his aptitude underclass among average human with mettlesome Zeusian brass.
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Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
Lurching Toward Grammatical Perfectionism
I needed this so much. A little alone time. Designer jeans. T-shirts printed with out the blue sayings. A moment to ourselves home alone. Wasting time just you & I. Causally stretched across each other on the couch. Commercials filled with Wal-mart families. Insurance companies. Lawsuit claims. Your sugar fills the space between shows. Your head leaned back on my chest. Neck twisted in a kiss. The TV more so watching us. The wait of working all week for this moment of relaxation. The anticipation of butterflies, late night texts.  The vintage shows we grew up watching, still our favorite. I really missed you. Your shoulder my favorite pillow. The extended twenty-first question of our 21 Questions. Sitting here with you. Soon to fall asleep with you in my arms. To wake up and do the same exact same thing. To let you know that I made it home safe
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
Between Commercials
The global coalition of closet queens scramble to make meals for Pence A man who resembles a recalled children's doll Toxicity in the plastic and he refuses to be house broken The white house maids have already stepped on his piles Corn fed and ignorant he turns red in his embarrassment The scared racists scramble for that giant trash pile in the sky clinging to their chicken fried lovers fearing they may be mistaken for a gay man Watch the child king place a rusted crown on old world hate Progress was a train wreck We found the cargo inside a slime pond I mingle with the rational on occasion I met my last girlfriend at an anti pipeline demonstration Black gold chokes the life of rural pleasantries They only wanted to carve out their peace of progress but now it will ruin the natives and dissolve these drinking fountains In America we don't throw journalists in prison we just slap them with a lawsuit Broke down they wrap around the bread line Spoken word and selfless soup put on the shelf This air blows cold and these leaves crack sinister The news says hate crimes and bullying are on the rise Peruvians run the corner store around the way I went to buy tobacco and Laffy taffy Their window shattered and crude spray paint over the entrance apparently mistaken for ISIS they stand confused and scared just wanting the same things you and I do happiness and health security and a future for their children A perpetual state of fear A mind numbing angst These are the tools we have going forward Just in case nobody says it I love you all and you are always welcome at my table
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Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
My last soap box
The global coalition of closet queens scramble to make meals for Pence A man who resembles a recalled children's doll Toxicity in the plastic and he refuses to be house broken The white house maids have already stepped on his piles Corn fed and ignorant he turns red in his embarrassment The scared racists scramble for that giant trash pile in the sky clinging to their chicken fried lovers fearing they may be mistaken for a gay man Watch the child king place a rusted crown on old world hate Progress was a train wreck We found the cargo inside a slime pond I mingle with the rational on occasion I met my last girlfriend at an anti pipeline demonstration Black gold chokes the life of rural pleasantries They only wanted to carve out their peace of progress but now it will ruin the natives and dissolve these drinking fountains In America we don't throw journalists in prison we just slap them with a lawsuit Broke down they wrap around the bread line Spoken word and selfless soup put on the shelf This air blows cold and these leaves crack sinister The news says hate crimes and bullying are on the rise Peruvians run the corner store around the way I went to buy tobacco and Laffy taffy Their window shattered and crude spray paint over the entrance apparently mistaken for ISIS they stand confused and scared just wanting the same things you and I do happiness and health security and a future for their children A perpetual state of fear A mind numbing angst These are the tools we have going forward Just in case nobody says it I love you all and you are always welcome at my table
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