I went to a brand new town
Spread out across the desert like a prom queens legs

The place has one restraunt
The place has one gas station

I made a mental note to look em' all in the eyes.
The guy at the counter was human enough

His nametag said MIKE
Mike, your *** is mine

What'll it be boy
**** people who call me boy

Just this
bottle of water

That'll be a dollar, son
**** people who call me son

I pull out a dollar
well...a dollar that looked something like a Colt Python 357.

That put a damper on ol' mikes day
I bet that **** fool ****** himself

I wonder If he noticed the sunlight flickering off  guns mother-of-pearl handle
I sure did

Take all the money. Please just don't **** me
I don't want the money, Mike

He whimpered when I said his name
******* always do that

What do you want then.........
Mike, I want to **** you

Sure enough he had to have a reason
The worst ******' word in the world

Why

and its nemesis

Because

You want to **** me just because?
because why?

Right there I knew Mike would never get it
He would never understand...poor old mike

Your about to get a wake up call Mike
Your about to be free as **** and not know what to do with yourself

Mike stands there with his hands up shaking
At home his wife is talking on the phone to her sister about going up there on vacation

Mike says
Please I have a wife and kids

Please don't **** me
Please Please dear God don't **** me

Mikes daughter was making him a fathers day card with a glue stick and glitter
Mikes son was licking the **** of some girl. Parkeed out by the Big Red Rock.

Mike Listens
Mike wants to live

Listen Mike
I say cool calm and collected

Your about to get it mike
Mike imagines his wife reading his obituary

You are about to lose your own soul Mike
You know...gain the whole world

Your about to be free Mike
You are one of the lucky ones

No need to thank me once you've gone Mike
You just enjoy it

For a second Mike looked like he understood
like he mighta got it

Let that which is given
Become lost

Let that which is gained
Become lost

Let this ******* pig, ****, trash, ****-stained-matress of a life
Be put out with the Monday trash

Mike knew he was in for it
Done for

I asked mike if he wanted to die like a man
I looked him hard in the eyes

He said he sure did
I asked him if he was ready to do the work of the universe

The work of god
Yes I am

I hand mike the gun
and the first bullet takes me through the right eye

So slow I can feel the optic nerve sever
before I die

before I die
I see mike standing over me

Looking down at me
this giant bleeding hole in my head

Mike says thank you
I tell him...Hey Dont Mention It

After he empties the rest of the rounds into my head
Mike walks out into the desert

He walks to my car
Fills it with gas

and gets inside
right there on the seat where I left the

box of shells for him to find
reloading

key turn
engine crank

and the car pulls slowly onto the street
the car drives down the desert road

****, it sure feels good to be free

Have any grass that needs to be cut?
Well, have I got the lawn mower with a powerful gut
That is my interpretation being well put
However, this lawn mower went out of control and entered onto the New England Thruway
Now that is what I call a getaway
Leave it too Mike
So what was he thinking?
So who is Mike?
Mike is your average Home Owner with having dreams of establishing a house
He was married and had a spouse
Our story starts when Mike’s wife, Marilyn said too Mike that the grass needs to be trimmed
Well a little encouragement as Mike had to be primed
Now Mike never owned nor knows how to drive a lawn mower
That means Mike must borrow from a nearby neighbor
Big mistake
It wasn’t going to be a piece of cake
Mike was trying to figure out on how to start the lawn mower
The start button was pushed on
This adventure could be long
So the lawn mower starts to move
But what will Mike prove?
For starters, Mike just cut through several neighbor’s gardens, and grass cut in half traces
This experience can never be erased
Well the lawn mower is heading down Maple Drive
Look out Motorist and pedestrians as who will survive?
So the lawn mower goes up the ramp onto the New England Thruway
But how far will the Lawn Mower be on the highway stay?
Astray as been labeled getaway
Traffic now is all back up
Everyone seems to be wondering why is a lawn mower on the Thruway
Well Mike can’t even explain himself
Later, Police pull the lawn mower aside
Now the Police and Mike now reside
The Police asked Mike what was a lawn mower doing on the highway?
Mike’s response was, “I was attempting to mow my house lawn?”
But the Police suggested to Mike, you definitely went the wrong way
However, why today?
Mike, the next thing he knew, the lawn mower moved out of control
Pure behold
Now the Police told Mike, you know where the lawn mower belongs
Lawn Mower Express
Don’t take it lightly nor less.

Dignified, sturdy, solid
In all it's equine glory
The fact Mike tried to ride it
Is quite another story
Mike was set to ride the steed
Down the beach to have his lunch
When the horse grabbed Mike's shirt
And then proceeded to just munch
The horse stood nearly 16 hands
Poor Mike stood five foot two
The horse looked down upon him
Most tall children looked down too
Mike steadied it to get aboard
From the left side as he should
He got up and grabbed the bridle
All was seeming pretty good
Mike leaned down to pat it
Lost his grip and tumbled down
The horse just didn't notice
And he peed upon the ground
Mike got up and mounted
Once again upon the steed
He bucked up once and threw him
Mike thought he must be off his feed
The troop of trail ride horses
Made their way along the beach
Mikes horse went on riderless
It was now far out of reach
Mike went back to the hotel desk
Called a cab to beat them all
He was not to be outdone
Just because he'd taken one small fall
He met them at the barbeque
The horses stood out in the field
Mike would eat his lunch and then
He'd make this **** horse yield
He came with a nice apple
and some sugar as a treat
The horse just looked down at him
And stamped on both his feet
While Mike just stood there steaming
The horse ran like a shot
The others were all mounted
And poor Mike's horse was not
It joined up with the others
Leaving Mike away in back
So, he phoned once more for a taxi
And formed a new attack
He was **** bound and determined
To get upon this horse
If not to go out riding
But for a picture, why of course..
He met them at the hotel field
To get his picture just for pride
It didn't matter to him now
That he never got to ride
He'd show the photo to his friends
Of the horse he rode around
Never telling him of his great fall
And how the horse tossed him to the ground
The fact he never rode it
Mike now considered moot
For the horse stood for the photo
And then pooped in Mike's left boot

The joy of Christmas morning
Among the gifts beneath the tree
Was one for all to cherish
there was so much there to see

Books and clothes and other things
gifts were piled to our knees
but the longest item under there
Was Uncle Mike's new ski's

Now Mike, was something special
and I think I have a hunch
That you might have read about him
And his famous Christmas Punch

Well, two days later here he was
Standing, looking at his ski's
He asked his wife, my Aunty Pat
"what the hell do I do with these"

"You need to get more exercise"
"Cross country skiing is quite hot"
He said "look at this round body"
"Athletic...it is not"

After a little conversation
Well, an arguement Mike lost
He agreed to go and try them
No matter what the cost

His brother Gerald joined us,
With my brother and our sled
We ventured out to T.V Golf Course
To exercise, like Aunt Pat said

Now, the golf course is an old one
Trees and water all around
But that was in the summer
Now, just snow was on the ground

For those out there among you
Unaware of what's involved
To learn cross country skiing
Is not so quickly solved

The first and most important
point when learning how to ski
Is, stay on ground that's level
And don't collide with trees

We stood atop the highest hill
With a gentle grade straight out
It was the most level spot out there
Of this there was no doubt

My brother went down on the sled
On a hill just to the right
He was flying like a rocket ship
And was quickly out of sight

Mike, all dressed and shackled in
Was trying hard just not to fall
He was 5 foot three in ski boots
And lying down, was just as tall

We said to try just walking
The hill would do the rest
Behind him we were laughing
Poor Mike, he tried his best

He swore a lot, and we all laughed
It was not something he liked
For, Mike, need to prepare for things
To find something, and get psyched

The view from atop the highest hill
Was something to be seen
From here, you'd see the river
And, to the left the seventh green

After two hours out we decided that
We should be off and then
Mike said "I'll give it one more run"
"I'll try it once again"

Gerald, Ian and myself
had packed up, were set to go
When Mike came sliding past us
Moving quickly on the snow

In front of him, a little bump
Turned him slightly to the right
Toward the hill of sledders
This gave Uncle Mike a fright

"fall down" we yelled, as he went by
He just waved and made the turn
He hit the hill at his top speed
He hit two bushes and a fern

The hill, all 14 stories
Was more ice than it was snow
And there was Mike, at full speed
Dodging sledders on the go

We heard him scream as he went down
But what we heard, was only half
Because the sight of him free wheeling
Was making us all laugh

He shot on up the other side
Stopped and then came back
But because the hill was made of ice
He hadn't left a track

Once he stopped we ran on to him
We stood there, a laughing group of men
And Mike, all five foot three of him
said "I'll not do that again"

The skis, were gouged and splintered
The wax was off, as was the tar
He grabbed one under both his arms
And we trudged off to the car

Aunt Pat was there to greet us
When Mike, pulled out the skis
He showed her, gouged and scratched and ruined
And said "I'll not be needing these"

That Christmas is my favourite
We still smile at Christmas lunch
Of Uncle Mike's speed skiing
And of course his Christmas punch.

“Are you sure about this? It seems kinda ******’ weird Mike…”
“No man, she’s totally cool. She likes it. I do this, at least, once a week.”
Bobby was hesitant, but Mike insisted he try it out. There had been a big fire in one of the apartment buildings a few weeks ago, the only part left untouched was a storage room under the stairs. She lived in there, he said.
“Usually, you gotta call her on the prepay first…like before you go over. But, for me…see I’m a regular, so she just gave me a key.”
“What so you just go inside?”
“Yeah, dude. Like I said, she likes it. Most of the time she’s all doped up and like, passed out. But like, as long as, like, I show her the money…she just like, tells me to stick it in. She likes it, says it helps wake her up and ****. Really gets her going.”
Mike was breathing hard, as he talked. They were getting close to the burned out building.
“I don’t know man, this seems ******. ******* a ******-******, that lives under some stairs, in a burned out building? I mean, what the **** man? Let’s just go home and **** our wives.”
Mike stopped walking and stood, staring at Bobby, in disbelief.
Slowly he spoke.
“That is...the stupidest thing...I have ever heard you say.”
“How? This is-“
“This…is a ******* adventure *******! A break from the day-to-day, a break from the norm, man. A taste of strange. Now c’mon already! We’re almost there”
They slowly started walking again.
“Well…do other guys in the complex do it?” Bobby asked, kicking a rock.
“Of course man! She’s got like six regulars a week. She’s got that and like, all the guys that just try her once for the hell of it. She does group deals too. The girl like, ****** a bunch of the high school boys before, she told me about that. The state champion on the wrestling team even gave it to her.”
It was amazing how the fire had blackened nearly every inch of the place. But that door beneath the stairs, was still faded blue & white. They walked up to the little door.
“Alright, now…do you wanna go first or second?” Mike asked, fumbling his keys into the door.
“I don’t know. We’ll see man.” Bobby didn’t know if he was really gonna do it.
Opening the door, they found her asleep in a small recliner, too small, it looked like it was made for a child. All miniature and ****. Bobby thought she was gonna look like the Crypt Keeper in a tube top and heels. But to his surprise, she didn’t look half bad, he thought. A real pretty little redhead, in flannel pajama pants, with painted black toenails and a Ramones t-shirt.
“What’s her name?” Bobby asked, nervously thumbing his Levi’s pocket.
“I dunno. Everyone just calls her ‘Easy’.
Mike shook her, trying to wake her up. It kinda worked. She opened her eyes a centimeter, nodded, and mumbled,
“….go ahead baby….zzzzzz...”
“Alright, buddy...I....am gonna go first.” Mike said, stripping down.
Bobby leaned against the wall, between that and the arms of the mini recliner.
Three Dole banana boxes were stacked in the corner. Lubes, condoms, and punched out cigarette butts, covered the top box. With his **** all shiny and lubed up, Mike put it in and got to it. It didn’t take long, two minutes into it and he blew his load. She didn’t move an inch.
“And don’t say anything man! I usually go a lot longer.”
“Hey, I wasn’t gonna-“
“It’s been a week since I ******, so just shut up.”
.She twitched and snored. Track marks on the tops of her feets. Mike reached down and spread apart her ***** lips, looking up and smiling at Bobby.
“Well? Come on dude...slip it in.”
Bobby unzipped his pants and pulled them down to his ankles.
Somehow, his **** was hard. He tore open a ribbed ******, from the pile of them, on the stacked Dole boxes. Bobby slid the ****** down his shaft. The room stunk like a can of expired tuna. Mike was still holding open her ***** lips.
“Mike. Move your hands. Come on, I got it man…”
He did like he was asked and stepped to the side. Stroking himself and grinning big. Bobby slid it in with ease, and began pumping away. Easy moaned with pleasure, at last waking up, her eyes finally open, and looking at who was ******* her.
“Give it to me, Daddy. Give it. **** me good.”
When Bobby finally came, five minutes later, Easy was wide awake. Bobby rolled the ****** off and held it in his hand.
“Do you have a garbage...Miss Easy?”
Mike and Easy both cracked up laughing.
“No. Just throw it behind something. Anywhere, I don’t give a ****.” She said.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, he quickly put his clothes back on. Mike stood, naked still, lighting a smoke for himself and one for Easy too. They were both smiling, rotten-toothed grins. All Bobby wanted was to get home to his wife, the guilt and shame, already eating him up. Easy laughed exhaling her cigarette.
“****. That was just what I needed. Thanks guys. Make him a copy of the key, would ya Mike?” She said, with a hearty, smoker’s cackle.
Bobby stood with his hand on the doorknob.
“See? I told you, Bobby…she likes it.”

Everyone knows Christmas Cake
but, I have got a hunch
That you've never heard the story
of Mike Fields Christmas Punch

Whenever there's a party
for Christmas or the like
A punch is always needed
And we call...Uncle Mike

It's a family tradition
It's Mike Fields secret brew
Like Mrs. Fogarty's Christmas Cake
This one's a killer too

It was Christmas Eve in London
The house was open to the street
We were celebrating Christmas
Sharing drinks with all we'd meet

The fridge was full of foodstuff
No more room for beer to go
When Mike in all his glory
Said "Let's put it in the snow"

So, laundry baskets gathered
We filled them to the top
It only took an hour
Before we heard them start to pop

Brown snow was in the basket
The beer had all blown to hell
But, Mike was not discouraged
And, it's this that rung a bell

Mike stood inside the kitchen
Looking for a bowl for punch
when he spied one on the counter
That we'd just used for our lunch

"Pat", he said, "don't worry"
"I know exactly what to do"
"I'm going to make an English Punch"
And he created witches brew

Like a mad doctor all frazzled
Mike quickly set about his task
With bottles full of god knows what
And no one sure was gonna ask

A bit of this, a splash of that
Some ***** and some juice
Some ginger ale, an orange twist
All were poured into his sluice

Every bottle he could muster
Were emptied in the bowl
To make a special Christmas Punch
That was Uncle Mike's new goal

Cranberries and almonds
Milk, champagne and then some ice
Some fruit juice and an olive
This would make it all taste nice

The spoon was spinning solo
Foam was pouring out the side
I wasn't sure about it
but, I was coming for the ride

Mike poured it into goblets
Paper cups would not survive
this brew was so ferocious
One drink and you won't drive

To add a little garnish
He put some orange slices in
They were already four days old
In fact, he pulled them from the bin

The room was a disaster
But the punch was a success
It was going to take a fortnight
To clean up all the mess

We drank the punch that Christmas
With the gusto it deserverd
To me it was the finest
Christmas punch that has been served

The recipe does not exist
It will never be the same
And the punch we had that Christmas
Doesn't even have a name

It was Michael Field concoction
That made that night one for the books
With a bowl of steaming, foaming punch
That garnered some strange looks

The next morning at clean up
We went to wash the bowl
And there on our back counter
Was nothing...but a hole

The punch had done a number
Eaten through the fruit and dish
and the smell left by the remnants
Made you think of rotting fish

It ate away the orange
Left the rind, disolved the fruit
Whether the punch was healthy for you
Well, that question was now moot

It was a punch beyond description
It was a punch, I know you'd like
It was served for just one Christmas
By our madman, Uncle Mike!

Romance on the road
Watch as the story unfolds
Truck Driver Mike has a wife at home
But he is constantly on the road, so there is always a possibility of roam
It was on Interstate 95 Truck stop called “Resting Easy”
Truck driving Mike met Susan, but known on the highway as Cruisin Sue
It was love at the rest pit
There are all kinds of words that would fit
Yet Mike and Susan became a couple that was it
At one point, they were driving traveling together
Mike and Susan were inacceptable like no other
They were even known on the road
The blinking truck headlights were always a signal of behold
Meanwhile, Mike’s wife often wondered if there was something going on with Mike
Mike’s wife name being Jennifer often felt uptight
Then later, there was suspicion with evidence being a clue
Jennifer was determined she had a divorce papers that need to pursue
When Mike came back from traveling on the road, he did confess
Yet Mike’s wife could care less
Jennifer decided she was ready to move on
She was going to let Mike continue trucking along
Jennifer felt a new beginning is where she belonged
Cruisin Sue and Mike finally got married
How long did the marriage last, I won’t tell
I will just let your heart swell
Keep on truckin with on the road again.

Mike and I were best of friends
and we drank together
and walked home together
And we’d walk along the railway tracks
and Mike
was always the more observant of us two
Yes, I always looked up to him
He’d be first to point out any irregularities
and so he’d say:
“There sure are a lot of steps
along the way”
And I’d concur
and I’d say:
“Yes, Mike…
And the problem is
the ****** handrails
are so low down”

And you know what
Mike is gone
and I still walk back
along the railway tracks
and the ****** idiots in charge of the railway
after all these years
they still put a lot of steps all the way
and worse –
they still put those ****** handrails
so low down…
Some people never learn;
they never change

I shout these things aloud
And I look up to Mike as I say these things
as I walk alone

Old Pompeo Had Some Spies, C.I., C.I., A!

Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!
Among these spies he had some sneaks
C.I., C.I., A!
With a wiretap here
And a wiretap there
Here a tap, there a tap
Everywhere a wiretap
Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!

Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!
Among these spies some Russians lurked
C.I., C.I., A!
With a lurk-lurk here
And a lurk-lurk there
Here a lurk, there a lurk
Everywhere a lurk-lurk
Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!

Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!
And with these spies came WikiLeaks
C.I., C.I., A!
With a leak-leak here
And a leak-leak there
Here a leak, there a leak
Everywhere a leak-leak
Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!

Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!
And then there was the President
C.I., C.I., A!
With a tweet-tweet here
And a tweet-tweet there
Here a tweet, there a tweet
Every day a tweet-tweet
Mike Pompeo had some spies
C.I., C.I., A!

Mike Pompeo had some headaches
C.I., C.I., A!
Among these headaches was Congress
C.I., C.I., A!
With questions here
And doubtings there
Here a quiz, there a doubt
Everybody run about
Mike Pompeo had some headaches
C.I.,
                  C.I.,
                           Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Uncle Mike was heading south
To Jamaica he would head
With the amount of hair that poor Mike had
He could only have one dread

A conference for his workplace
A nice resort and lots of sun
Mike was set to go an party
He would work and have some fun

But if you've read my other poems
Mike is not ...well, tuned in
You see his trip was almost over
Before it even did begin

The day that he was leaving
Mike was notified by mail
He needed a new photograph
For his ID card....no fail!!!!

He was already at his hotel
When the notice came to say
You must send us a photo
Or you can't come here to play

He bought himself a camera
A poloraid and then
He tried to take a picture in his room
A true multitasker among men

He put the camera on the hutch
Bent a hanger down to length
And then he tried to push the button
but, the hanger didn't have the strength

He knocked the camera all about
Taking pictures of the walls,
One picture of the tv set
And four photos of his *****

This would be a no go
He had to ask someone instead
How do you ask a stranger
Take my photo on my bed?

He made the plane to Kingston
Found the hotel, settled in
Now, Mike was in Jamaica
And the real fun would begin

I heard faint noises downstairs, and I decided to investigate. I pulled on a pair of cut-off jeans and grabbed the old pump shotgun that had served me so well in Viet-Nam from under my bed and crept downstairs to check. My Ranger training came into play, and I moved soundlessly, down the stairs and into the living room. An air of vague shadowy figures were searching through the cabinet that housed my collection of antique silver. I announced my presence in a sudden and intimidating manner: I merely pumped the action of the shotgun, then immediately moved to the right so if anyone shot, he would shoot where I had been, not where I was now. That sound was a language that everyone understood, including the two figures before me. They froze, and were still motionless.

"Mr. Steve?" one of the figures quavered. "Please don't shoot!"

I recognized the voice as belonging to Lisa, the twenty-year-old daughter of my nearest neighbor. I didn't know who the other person was or who else may be in the house, so I kept the shotgun pointed in their direction and hit the light switch with my free hand. Immediately a car cranked up in my driveway, and tires squealing, raced out to the road and away. I looked at my midnight visitors. I recognized Lisa and Julie, who was a close friend of Lisa's and a frequent overnight visitor of hers. They were holding between them a laundry bag containing most of my silver collection. I lowered the muzzle of the cut down shotgun.

"You sure know how to get yourselves killed," I stated. "Mind telling me who was in the car? You don't want to take the rap all by yourselves."

"Please don't shoot! That was Mike, it was all his idea! He made us do it! He said he would put us out and make us walk home if we didn't do it! Are you going to call the Cops?"

Now I could understand why the girls tried to burglarize my home. It was a fifteen-mile walk home in pitch darkness on a moon-less night for the two frightened girls. It was just what a worthless **** like Mike would pull. Knowing what I did about Lisa's boyfriend, I knew what he probably needed the money for. He was nineteen; the only job he had ever had was selling drugs, and I don't mean at the pharmacy. He was a charmer though. Girls fell for his good looks and his charm, and would do anything for him, and he of course chose the best looking one of the bunch, Lisa. She never realized what a slime-ball he really was. The problem was that Lisa didn't have a father to threaten to put a bullet in Mike's behind, and her mother was just as deceived as she was.

"You broke into my house and attempted to steal my belongings. Why shouldn't I?" I said with false sternness. I wouldn't really turn them in, now that I knew the situation. I would give the girls a good scare, then a ride home. Maybe then Lisa would see through Mike's veneer.

"Because we'll do anything you want," Julie offered, speaking for the first time. "Anything at all!"

Julie stepped over and ran her hand up my leg, pausing to tweak the head of my ****, which was hanging out of the leg of my cutoffs. I hadn't bothered to pull on any underwear. Julie was almost as good looking as Lisa was. Both girls had fabulous bodies, large firm ****, and smooth well-rounded *****. Julie had a cute face, whereas Lisa was absolutely beautiful.

"Yes, anything you want to do!" Lisa agreed.

The girls weren't wanton *****, but scared out of their wits and taking the only way out that they could think of. Of course they weren't virgins. It hadn't occurred to me to take advantage of the girls like this, and I would have declined Julie's offer if she hadn't fooled with my **** like that. You see, I was developing an outrageous *******, and with my **** hanging down the leg of some fairly tight shorts, the situation was rapidly becoming painful and serious. I had to get those pants off fast! Also, I hadn't been laid in quite a while. I decided to lay my cards on the line.

"You kids know me. I never had any intention of calling the Cops. I was going to give you a scare to teach you a lesson, then drive you home. Does that mean the offer is withdrawn?"

The girls looked at each other and both breathed a sigh of relief, big smiles on their faces. Lisa winked at Julie. "Nope," Julie said, smiling, "It still stands. Lets go upstairs."

I escorted the girls to my bedroom, pressed the magazine block on the shotgun, pumped out the shell that was still in the chamber, then put it back in the magazine. I tossed it onto the dresser with a loud thump.

I turned around and both girls were stark naked. Lisa came over, dropped to her knees, and planted a wet kiss on the head of my painfully throbbing ****. My ******* became harder still. I had to get out of those cutoffs! Julie solved that problem. She unzipped and unbuttoned them and gently worked them down around my rock-hard ****, allowing it to spring up to freedom.

"Lets get on the bed first," I suggested, "Then we have fun."

"Lay down on your back," Lisa insisted. "Have we got something for you!"

I complied, and Lisa leaned over and put my **** in her hot mouth. Her tongue swirled over the head, ran up and down the shaft, and started over again. I looked over at Julie and she was watching avidly. Not having anything better to do with my hands, I reached between her legs and caressed her ****. Julie gasped with surprise, then spread her legs. Her **** was already hot and wet, so I slid my ******* in all the way, then started finger ******* her and massaging her **** with my thumb. Her **** hardened and grew. Julie had her eyes closed and was erotically tweaking her ***** *******. She was slowly lowering her body, deepening the ******* of my finger, and rocking her hips back and forth, intensifying the stroking of her ****. Julie's hot ***** juices ran down my hand while Lisa's mouth was still working on my throbbing ****.

I began to draw my hand from Julie's sopping wet ****, but she grabbed it and held it tightly to her crotch. I pulled my hand now, and she came with it. I grabbed her thigh and swung her leg over me, so she was now sitting on my chest. I pulled my finger from her hungry ****, grabbed her ***, and pulled her ****** right up to my face. As soon as I flicked her **** with the tip of my tongue, she went wild, ******* my face, filling my nostrils with the sweet aroma of her **** juices. I thought I would give her all the licking she could handle. I rammed my tongue into her ****-hole with all my might, then gently nibbled on her ****. Apparently she had a low threshold, as this was all she could stand.

"Oh God, I'm coming!" she screamed, ground her **** into my face one more time, quivered, then collapsed sideways onto the bed.

One down, one to go. I looked at Lisa, still ******* my **** for all she was worth. I was nearing the end of my endurance, and I still hadn't had my **** in any hot **** yet. I grabbed Lisa's shoulders and pulled her mouth from my ****. I turned her around and held her up, her blonde ***** triangle just inches over my waiting tool.

"Give it to her! Now!" Julie whispered.

Lisa's **** didn't look wet or ready to take anything in it yet, but my **** was ready to take some *****. Julie reached over and spread the lips to Lisa's still dry *****, and began tweaking her ****. Lisa gasped her surprise at her most private place being touched by another chick. Within seconds though, her **** and inner ***** lips began to swell, and her juices started flowing. I slowly lowered Lisa to my rod, admiring her glistening pinkness. Julie guided my throbbing rod into Lisa's wet love hole.

"Please, be careful! Ah-h-h-h! Go slow, I'm so tight!"

I lowered Lisa very carefully, for her hot ****-hole was indeed the tightest ***** I had ever felt. With that in mind, I fought the urge to slam her down on my eager ****. As soon as she was down, I grabbed her *** and began sliding her back and forth. Lisa bit her lip as a tear trickled down from one eye.

"Stop, Mr. Steve! It's hurting her!" Julie commanded. Then to Lisa, "You haven't done it much, have you?"

"Just once, with Mike, and he isn't this big. It hurt then, too!" Lisa sobbed. "I wanted so bad to do it with Mr. Steve because he's been so nice to me, and I was so scared when I saw how big he was. Oh, it hurts!"

"You'd better get up then." I reassured, "I don't want to do anything to you that you don't want me to do."

"I want to go on, really I do! But don't you have anything I could use to make it easier?"

"Yeah, any Vaseline, or KY jelly, or something like that?" Julie asked.

"I have some KY jelly in the bathroom." I answered.

Julie jumped up and padded into the bathroom. I watched her naked *** jiggle as she left.

"You're gonna have to get up." I told Lisa. I gently lifted her ***. She bit her lip again and moaned as my **** slowly withdrew from her tortured hole. With a pop from her *****, a shriek burst from her lips as my **** sprung from her nearly dry ****-hole. She knelt on the bed next to me, softly crying, clutching herself where it hurt. I realized that she had been wrong in pretending to be so eager. A more gentle approach was needed.

I reached over, pulled her to me, and kissed her lips passionately. She ****** once in surprise, then melted into my arms, returning my kiss, forgetting the pain in her ****. I ran my hand around to her firm **** and gently stroked her *******, feeling them harden under my touch. I pulled my mouth from hers and kissed the point of each hard ******. She moaned and gasped with each touch of my lips, but from pleasure this time, not from pain. While I had her aroused, I lightly traced circles on her tummy with my finger, each circle going lower and lower, until I finally reached the blonde **** of her ***** hair. Slowly, I reached down and cupped her ***** with my hand, being careful not to press too hard or insert my finger. I would know when she was ready for *******. She responded with a **** and a gasp. I pressed again, and she gasped again. I kissed each firm ****** one last time, then started kissing down her tummy to her love nest, which was now warming and starting to respond to my touch.

I spread her legs and gently ran the tip of my tongue the full length of her slit. When I reached the vicinity of her ****, she reacted as though she had been shocked. She arched her back, pressing her **** against my face. Maybe she was ready. I probed again with my tongue, harder this time, hard enough to separate her ****-lips and tickle her ****. She went mad again, jerking and twitching in response to the touch of my tongue, moaning and panting. Then I felt her **** harden, her inner lips swell and spread, and her delicious juices start to flow. Now she was definitely ready for more. I probed her ****-hole with my tongue, licked all the way up to her ****, swirled it around, bit it gently, and then probed her hole again. When I started doing all this, she went even wilder. She spread her legs, ****** and reared against my face, and pulled my head tight against her hot cooze.

"Oh-h-h-h-h, **** me," she moaned, "I can't stand it any more! I don't care if it does hurt! Please, please **** me!"

I put her throbbing **** between my lips and gave it one hard ****, drawing it completely into my mouth, and pulled my head back sharply, causing her **** to pop back. She screamed, ****** her hips at me, and grabbed her sweating *******.

When she had subsided, her legs still spread, I mounted her in the traditional position. I started to position my throbbing pole for a gentle entry, but Lisa released her **** and spread her ****-lips with one hand and guided my tool to her sopping wet ****-hole with the other. She was much wetter now than when Julie diddled her ****, wet enough to ****.

"Please do it now!" Lisa pleaded.

I began to insert my **** cautiously, and found that due to her juices, entry was no problem. Lisa groaned like a ****** as I slid into her hot wetness. When she had taken as much of my ten-inch tool as she could, I still wasn't all the way in. But she began pumping her hips, causing the swollen head of my **** to ram against the back of her *****. She was as deliciously tight as before, but she must have been stretching, for with just a few strokes, my ***** were slapping against her ***, and I was in to the hilt. My tenderness and foreplay had paid off.

"Oh-h-h-h, that's good!" she purred when I began pumping to meet her rhythm. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and was pumping as hard as I was. With each stroke, I would completely withdraw from her hot, tight wetness, then shove my eager tool back in to the hilt, never missing her voracious target, always sliding easily in, jamming against the back of her *****.

Her pumping increased in tempo, and I sped up to match. Each pump became harder and more frantic than the one before. Lisa's breathing became harder and faster. She was about to come, and I wanted to come with her. I raised her legs over my shoulders so that I had a better angle at the depths of her tight hole, and started ramming as hard as I could.

"Don't stop! I think I'm gonna come! Oh-h-h, its so good! Come in me! Oh, please, I want to feel your load in me!" Lisa screamed. She bucked and reared and screamed incoherently, then went limp. I continued to pump. In just a few seconds, she began to pump anew. For more times than I could count, she orgasmed.

Once I felt my ****** approaching, I gave her one last hard ram and drove my weapon in as far as I could. I came at this point, spurting her sweet, tender Steve **** full of my hot sticky come, like an erupting volcano. She gasped, trembled, and fell back to the bed. I pulled out my softening ****. Our ****** energies were spent for the moment.

I glanced down at the foot of the bed, and saw Julie, whom I had forgotten. She sat in the chair at the foot of the bed, her legs spread, working a coke bottle in and out of her *****. She had found the KY jelly, then found us ******* away. Feeling left out but excited by the ****** sight of her best friend getting a good *******, she slicked up the coke bottle and began using it as a *****.

I saw that Lisa also was seeing something she had never seen before, her best friend's ****, gaping open, a coke bottle almost disappearing inside it. "Look how far in she puts it! And see how big it is to go in her like that. How does she do it?" Lisa asked, amazed.

"Why don't you get a closer look," I suggested. "Ask her." Lisa crawled down to the foot of the bed and sat on the end, astounded, watching Julie *******.

Julie finally looked down, under heavy-lidded eyes and saw Lisa so close. "Why don't you do this for me?" Julie asked.

"How?" Lisa queried.

"Just do what I'm doing now," came Julie's reply. Lisa watched for a few seconds more, then pushed Julie's hand aside and grasped the slippery end of the bottle. "In and out, and twist it a little bit. Oh, yes-s-s, oh, yes-s-s. Do it good, oh, that's so good!" Julie purred.

My **** was hardening again at the sight of one female ******* another.

I had an idea. If Julie was as promiscuous as she seemed, she might not object to what I had in mind. While Lisa continued to work the bottle in Julie's stretched ****, I helped Julie out of the chair and down to the floor, her heaving **** on the floor, her *** up in the air. She stayed in the position, crooning wordlessly, **** juice dribbling down her thighs, Lisa still ******* her.

I picked up the tube of KY jelly that Julie had used, and liberally covered my ***** rod with it. Then I stood behind Julie, straddling Lisa.

"What are you going to do?" Lisa asked.

"Watch and see!" I responded. With that I grasped Julie's hips and aimed my **** at the delicate rosette of Julie's ***. Using my **** like a weapon, I suddenly shoved my tool in as far as I could. Julie let out a scream, tearing out fistfuls of carpet.

"Oh God, **** my ***! That hurts so good! **** me harder, give me all you've got! Make it hurt! Give me more of that bottle!"

"I'm ***-******* Julie!" I informed Lisa, who was now completely mind-blown.

I needed no invitation, and neither did Lisa. Both of us gave Julie all we could, Lisa with the bottle in Julie's ****, me with my **** far up Julie's clenching ***. Julie rocked back to take us both in, then forward, then back for more. I couldn't see

the system is captured in the psych ward, and we need to get it out




ron was busy trying to understand why people fight with authority especially when

two protestors from an invasion day march, you see they got out their knives and started

to chop authority figures up and eat them for dinner, you see down on the path of the yarra river

there was the peaceful  aboriginal rights parade but mike and his wife yetta were looking trouble

and carried knives and guns to every protest, you see they hated aborigines a lot and when the police caught them

they brought them straight to ron’s psych ward, and they gave them a shot of ****** to calm themselves down

and with brian sitting in the lounge room very happily watching TV, well they didn’t want mike and yetta ruining that

and charlie chaplin said, hey dudes, i was the king of silent movies and yetta stuck her finger up right in her face

and mike said, let me go ya ****** do-gooder, the other patients aren’t safe unless they go to their rooms and lock the door

and then when the coast is clear mike and yetta will complain about this whole invasion day thing, because really

they can do anything in ron’s psych ward, and then yetta said, how about my mum, who gives $36 a week to the save the chukdren

and with me in here, i can’t give money to world vision, you see this so=called invasion day was a living in the past moment

for the aborigines, but the nurses said, this lady is a danger to herself and others because it was captain cook that got all

the credit when he invaded the aborigines land and then patty roe came out and yetta said, how about you tell us your calling in life and patty roe

said, i am george washington , the first president of the USA, and yetta said, you are a nut, you are a nut, 1 big nut, and you are tasty too

ron was in his house trying to research yetta and mikes problems, but the only thing is the A word, and that doesn’t make you mental ron thought

so he rang up the police and they said, they are both delusional, they think they are right into thinking guns are a way of expressing yourself

and ron said, yeah, all criminals are like that, then the police said they hid behind the desk saying what have we done, and before you say it

everyone does that, but mike and yetta dressed themselves in the clothes we gave them and walked outside, and when we caught them

they looked like they were delusional and we want you to give them both a mental health assessment before we pass sentence

and brian said to yetta, are you like B smith from prisoners days, and yetta said ******* ya ******* and the next day ron went to his local cafe

and after that, he went to his HDU to give out breakfasts and the morning medications and yetta was put on seroquel and mike was put on

risperidal and yetta told everyone, prison is nothing like prisoner, the screws don’t care for you as much as the show prisoner and mike said to charlie,

what the **** are ya looking at and charlie said, i am looking at a protest hating white arrogant racist **** and ron brought yetta and mike to

the hearing voices talk but that did no good and then they had lunch and according to yetta it was crap, and ron brought them along to the

afternoon art group and they enjoyed that cause they drew pictures of people they wanna **** or hurt, but the art teacher was no where near impressed

and then they had dinner and their nightie medications and ron brought out the sandwiches and ron went home and mike and yetta were doing a whiye mans war cry

while ron went home with a pizza and retired in front of the TV and after watching the news headlines, which made ron think, the system is captured in the psych ward

we must get it out

Captured in the psych ward



Yeah the new guy was taken straight to solitary as his violent outbursts frightened everyone there at the HDU mainly because he was trying to explain in a violent crazy person way that he wanted to put this shy boy Brett omim on television cause he was worried about mr omim spike to him and you see Brett really liked him but was unaware that he was working for Home and away to study
Characters for future episodes, you see his mum and dad were worried about their son mixing with gnus crazy person but Brett said to his parents ******* and stayed at his house and this man was really angry cause he is one of those people who doesn't want people over, he just wants to play with us and then write his future episodes of home and away and he explained our character like how we look to the public very well, and then Brett saw it written in his house and mind you he didn't want this and said you ain't going to put my life on home and away, csuse if you do I will say that you are so shy and I will torture you with that forever and ever and then he said you haven't got the fucken guts mate and then Brett said come on mike, get into the car I will take you somewhere where you can write as many stories as you like and then mike lander rolling was in the HDU and met Ron cooper and mike said get out of my way, I am a writer for home and away not a dangerous crazy person and Ron put ****** in his arm and took him to the solitary room and it has a TV but mike was having problems especially when Brett charged him with slander and using his profile without permission
And the only time mike was let out of solitary was when his girl Friday came who thought it was cool to talk near the water and Ron allowed that
But made sure a nurse or even him was there so he can't try funny stuff
And the producer of home and away came in to see him and left without taking, well he said one thing and that was, no when I gave you this job
I wasn't asking you to be nosed. And film behind backs no I wanted proper people here and then mike got angry and hit Charlie in the gut and ran straight to his room and Charlie was lying on the ground in real ****** pain and Ron locked mike in saying no more visitors for mike unless they are willing to go in there cause this man is dangerous
And Ron was getting ready to take Charlie to TAFE and George came down and banged on mikes door
Ssying hey you fucken **** I want to bash the **** out of you and then George said I am julius Caesar and I am going to bask you up if you ever get out of here and mike said I am Blackbeard the pirate and I remember frying you on my boat and I will fry you some more and then Ron came back with Charlie and they bought out the sandwiches and
Then Ron got the medications out of the room and gave one by one and Charlie said mate, I am cured, today I found out how to keep silent movies, so that means I am cured and Ron said you wish and gave out the rest of the medications and then clocked off and bought Chinese and went home watched TV and fell asleep in front of the box again


Sent from my iPhone

**** its a slow night !
Mike said from across the table nursing his coffee inbtween passing the flask between us under the table.

Jack you pick up many fares tonight?
Bout the usual drunks bud but no its not been the best night .

Honestly I was happy bout the down time I was nursing hangover and truly didnt feel like dealing with peoples **** .

Listening to Mikey was bad enough he loved to ramble on about old stories and hookers he had nailed in his cab .

I swear I think sometimes he lived in that *******.
He certanly dressed like he did .Wearing the same clothes from last week .

You guys ever actually eat or do you just exist off ***** stories cigarettes and coffee.

Hey Susan you know I only come here to be in your presence .
Yeah right Jack hey you got anything in that flask you passing back and forth?

Sure do sweetheart I said as she leaned over the table she took a hit from the flask **** near emptying it.

Id care but I was to busy looking at her cleavage.
Hey leave something for us ***** Mike piped up.

Yeah well thats the cost of your buddy here looking down my shirt .
And what wonderful view it is sugar I said as she refilled my coffee totally ignoring Mike as usual .

What the hell man you wanna piece of *** I can tell you.where to look but dont let that ***** take all are ***** Jack.

Funny thing is its never are ***** when I buy it Mickey.
******* man you know I would share if I had a bottle .
Yeah I really cant say bud never seen you ever have one you *****.

Yeah ******* man.

Mike never could handle being picked on.
Alot of loud mouths couldn't .
Mike was one of many but he was a good laugh on a ocassion and kinda grew on you after awhile course so does a tumor so he wasnt exactly my favorite person in the world.

Course I never did like people .
I saw all there worst sides driving them the drunks least were semi honest .

The yuppies never paid you any mind you were there ride nothing more.

**** Jack I ever tell you bout that couple a few weeks ago I picked up?
I knew mikes silence wouldnt last long.

No you didnt .

Hell man so I do a pick up at the Raven you know that dive off Atlantic?

Yep been there many a time .

Well anyways I pick up this couple let me tell you from they were making out on the sidewalk I knew I was in for a show .

The chicks got this hot as **** little black cocktail dress on .
******* guy barely can tell me the address cause the chicks all over him.

So I head to the address well no sooner Im heading down the road I look back in the review and this ***** is going down on him I mean she's putting a Linda Lovelace to shame back there.
No **** well I know your demented *** was happy beats a drunk passing out in the backseat ******* himself .

No **** sherlock mike replied .
Anyways Im like ******* enjoying the **** out of this fare .
So much so a figure why the hell not *******.

Are you ******* nuts?
How the hell you going to drive and ******* truly you are one sick **** Mikey.

**** hell man I'm a professional brother unlike you .
Really you got to loosen up and live or this job will drive you nuts .

Yeah like your sane I thought to myself .

Anyways she's back there going to town like she working a ***** scene .
Everything's feeling good but I just kind of lost myself for a moment
Swerved hit the **** curb .

And I hear this guy ******* almost scream.
See when I hit the curb she bout bit his **** off.

******* funny **** the guys yelling get me to the ******* hospital she's keeps telling him she's sorry.

But thats not all of it he's going off cause he cant figure out what he's going to tell his wife .

Aint that some **** and to top it off the ******* didnt even tip me.
I cant imagine after almost giving him *** change why he wouldnt want to tip you Mickey.

Oh like I'm some ******* for getting worked up watching this chick go to town on this guy.
Okay hotshot being your so more noble than me what would you had done so differently .


I sat looked at this fellow cabbie trying not to laugh.
Honestly mike .

I would have pulled over and left the meter running till she finished .

I never was much at multi tasking like yourself .

Fuack you Jack I heard Mike say as I left a tip on the table and was on my way out.

Be careful out there Jack I herd Susan say.
Dont worry sugar I always am .


Stay crazy .

Gonz

30 YEARS AGO
*******************­*****

He could no longer smell lead in the air when he opened his eyes. He had somehow survived the war, but couldn't tell how long he had been passed out for. "Long enough I bet" He said to himself on a tone so low, he wondered if he had truly spoken or just imagined it. Doing a quick assessment of his surroundings his heart grew sad. Nothing moved. His friends, his foes... all dead, piled on top of each other.

Oscar slowly moved the weight of his body onto his forearms, trying to get a better view of the carnage that surrounded him. His body hurt quite a lot, but his legs, stretched out before him didn't. Not at all. For a second he allowed himself to smile. He would be able to walk out of there and get help. He moved the bodies that lay on top of his lower body to assess the real damage on his legs but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Oscar had lost both legs from the knee down, and rats ate at what was left of his upper leg. He screamed and his eco was heard across the field.

*****************­******

The next time Oscar opened his eyes he lay on a hospital bed. His mother sat next to him, holding his hand; Her small face puffed up from crying.

"My son" She tried to speak further but her tears threaten to drown her.

"Mother" Oscar calmed his voice, trying to comfort the sobbing woman "I am alright" He smiled at her but it did not reach his eyes.

"They say they can fix you" she said rapidly, barely stopping to breathe. "They say they can make you whole again! Give you back your legs, and full function of your body. They even said they can make you stronger. Better. Smarter." She stopped then. Let go of her son's hand, and started to pace the room. "Not that I think you aren't fine as you are" she added.

"They? Who are you talking about mother?

"The doctor. We are in the military hospital. You have been honorably discharged due to the nature of your injuries. If you refuse the deal, you'll be moved to a civilian hospital next week. If you accept, then you'll undergo the enhancement right away."

The door opened, and a  young man walked in. His intelligent, metallic gray eyes scanned the room, till they landed on Oscar.

"Hello Oscar" He paused as if expecting a reply. Upon receiving none, he continued. " I am Michael Black-Hunter"

"Mr. Black-Hunter is the doctor I've been telling you about son" Oscar's eyes met his mother's. He saw hope there.

"Please Ellen, call me Mike"

Oscar cleared his throat. "I'll do it." Startled by the notion that he would not have to do any persuasion that particular day Mike grinned to himself.

"Very good, very good. First things first. I must rid you of any weakness" Mike quickly  snapped his fingers and mumbled in a language unknown to anyone else in the room. A second goes by, then a minute. Suddenly time had lost its grip on Oscar and Ellen.

"Ellen dear" Mike approached the woman, turned her body to face Oscar "Can you tell me who the gentleman on the hospital bed is?"

Ellen seem puzzled by the question, but she replied regardless. "Mr. Black-Hunter why do you mock me? You are well aware I do not know this man."

"And you Oscar? Who is Ellen to you?"

Oscar made an impatient sound. "I have no time for this Mike, the woman said we don't know each other!"

"How perfect." Pleased with his work, Michael Black-Hunter walked a confused Ellen out of the hospital room.

******************­******
                                        PRESENT DAY

Brooke faced Oscar. Anger radiated from her tiny frame like angry ocean waves during a storm.

"I don't need you. I can do this on my own, I always have." Brooke proceeded to step away from Mike, unaware of a new agent charging with intent towards her. Within seconds the agent's knife made contact with Brooke's skull. She collapsed on Oscar's arms.

"I thought she would dodge that" The agent screamed as Oscar held her up by the throat with one hand. "Its part of the training to go against one of the best, you know that." Tears fell from her eyes but Oscar could not find a **** to give. He broke the agents neck. Her name tag fell from her breast at the same time life left her body. Oscar caught the tag in his hand then read the name out loud. 'Ellen' it said. That made him feel funny, but he couldn't be sure why.

"You failed" Oscar dumped her body on the ground. Then carried Brooke inside to get patched up. "You can't die Brooke. I actually need you" He whispered to her passed out form. After dropping her off with the nurse he went back outside to light the cigarette he had been craving. The new agent's body was gone.




to be continued....

The after life



One day in the afterlife town of nirvana, lived a spiritual being called Buddha and his assistant Cronus and the spiritual healer Athena and they worked together to bring the souls from their last life to their next life, there are so many souls up here already as they sip their methane smoothies and explore the kingdom.
The main people are Robert mike and Jenny who died in the same plane crash and Cronus was asking them what would they want to be or do in their next life, and Robert said, I don’t want to come back to earth because it is too dangerous and Cronus said don’t worry, we won’t force your decision but as a natural fact you need a new earth body and the decision is yours on who or what it is
And Robert said, what if I die like I did before, my last body was only 17 and had dreams of living forever, so why do you want me to come back, and Cronus said well, you want to live forever think about death as being an obstacle where, sure you will lose everything from your last life that you treasured but you can collect new memories and new treasures in your new house with your new parents in which you can choose through our earth cam tv and Jenny said can I look at that now, it is important to check out my new parents and whether they will let me party with my friends till all hours and Cronus said, yes but I can’t promise you that you will get parents who let their kids run wild but I can give you new parents who will listen to you when you need them too and Jenny said ‘whatever’ so there are parents like that and Cronus said all parents have your best interests at heart and Jenny said well, you don’t really know my parents do you, and Cronus said well, I do but all kids hate their parents discipline techniques and Jenny said ‘whatever’
And then said ok I will see the best parents for my needs, and I will get emotional to find out which parents care enough for her to pick and Cronus asked her do you want parents who take you on holidays or give up their time to take you to daily activities like sports tryouts or community performances or do you want to live in a nice community and Jenny said, I think we all do, don’t we
And Cronus said Athena needs to give your soul a check up and bless you off to your next life and then Cronus went up to mike who was a real party animal who loves to drink and Cronus said how about you have a methane smoothy on us which up here will improve the quality of your life and then Athena will give you a soul check to get you ready to be reborn in your next life, you see we need to make our decision now so you can be added to your next life, and mike said do you know where my parents are, I am an orphan and my parents died when I was 10 in a car accident and I am now 16, please send me toward them and Cronus said you know who could help you, Buddha, so I will send you to Buddha and he could help you locate them, and mike said, in my next life, is there a way that I won’t lose my parents early like this life and Cronus said, pick the family you want and then explore nirvana but you must speak to Buddha to see your parents
So mike went up to Buddha and asked him to locate his parents and Buddha said your parents are on Jupiter living near hurricane hill where they can have fun pushing hurricane activity away from earth but they are not really finding it easy, and mike said, yes that sounds like them because they lost their parents in the hurricane of 2006 and it sounds like them to try and control them but where did they go to earth, and Buddha said only your parents can tell you that, do you want to be close to them in their next life, I could arrange that, and mike said yes that sounds good and after about 3 hours the souls of Robert, Jenny and mike were reincarnated into the womb of their next life as they started to throw a few flies down to keep having fun with people which happens because flies have a 28 day life span so we need to have fun with them
Buddha Cronus and Athena sat down after sending their souls to the womb and drank methane smoothies and waited for the next souls including former prime minister jack Solomon who died after battling 40 years of cancer and he came up saying to Buddha and Cronus I am ready to become a child again and I want to make a difference and Cronus said
Just do what you want to do and you will make a difference, happiness is the answer and jack went to Saturn to watch a jazz bank perform and he really enjoyed it

It was the night before Christmas
A dilemma arose
The temperature dropped
And Mike Klein's car was froze
With a last minute errand
And a trip to the wash
It was minus 18
And it was frozen...by gosh
With an ice pick and hammer
And two friends and some beer
Mike attacked the stuck window
With his ice breaking gear
He swung with the hammer
Missed the car by a yard
slipped on some ice
And went down really hard
He had some de-icer
He remembered at last
But it was in the car
And that train had past
His wife was now waiting
For Mike to take them to mass
But Mike....as we know
Was in the garage on his ***
He thought for a moment
I've a small propane torch
I could melt my way in
With nary a scorch
So he looked for his lighter
He looked near and looked far
Then he looked through the window
It was inside his car
He thought for a while
How he would tell his spouse
They'd not go to church
They were stuck at the house
When what to his Liberal eyes did appear
but, his beautiful wife
And she was holding a beer
"I don't care what happened
I don't want to know
But, get up off your ***
And get out of that snow
Go change your pants
I know this is fully your fault
But, I'll be right back
with a shaker of salt"
The salt broke the ice dam
And they left without worry
They were almost there late
But Mike drove in a hurry
And I heard him exclaim
As he started to go
"I will not wash the car
When it's eighteen below!!"

My friend Mike
He's such a clown,
He thinks things up,
Then writes them down.

My friend Mike
He's quick with wit,
Sad sonnets too,
A master of lit.

My friend Mike
His words fill the air.
Listen closely
For truth is there.

My friend Mike
He has a heart
Patched together,
A work of art.

My friend Mike
Its been my pleasure,
To read your poems,
You are a treasure.

CHANNEL 3 AT 7:


We are at the scene, now;
an awesome showing of
                    brute force.
What some are calling the
greatest moment in U.S.
                          history
and, some, "An example
of jingoistic propaganda
masquerading as self-
-liberation."

Whatever it is, Tom,
one thing is certain:
we will be here,
covering every second
of this gigantic American
                          moment.

"And we thank you for your fine
reporting, Lisa. Boy, I tell you,
the President is making a huge
mistake with this act."

You have got that right, Tom.
We, as Americans, cannot
allow this to happen. We have
to ask these people if they want
this to happen -- and, then, we
need to enforce, what we consider
progressive and better for their
well-being, to them. These people
are like lost puppies, Tom.
It is our responsibility to make sure
that they do not respect their religion,
their culture, or prehistoric way of life
they have become accustomed to.
If we ignore the issue, of their
third-world existence and third-world
values, then we will have lost as
human beings; and the United States
cannot lose whenever it comes to this.

"Lisa, bathe me in your words,
because nothing has ever felt so
clean and right. You're absolutely,
100% correct: we need to guide
these poor, helpless people and
show them what is right, when
it comes to culture, identity,
among other things."

Agreed, Tom. And thank you.
To make things simple for
the viewer at home, you wouldn't
buy a puppy and expect it to
**** anywhere it wanted?
You have to show it where to ****.
Heck, you have to show it what to
eat, so the **** can be a good ****.
To sum things up, these people have
been pooping incorrectly, for a long time,
and it is our responsibility to show them
the **** inside of us, and how we aren't
going to mix with them, but, instead,
show them how they can get a nice,
firm ******* that we all but
take for granted.

"Couldn't agree more, Lisa.
It is our duty, as Americans,
to help these people who have
been de-humanized, and show
them how to handle this and
the world, especially during
a time like this for them.
And let us not forget,
this is their moment."



MAD MIKE IN THE MORNING:

Hello folks, and welcome
to the Heat Zone; a place
where snowflakes melt
and where liberals sweat.
I, of course, am your man,
Mad Mike O'Leary and
boy, do we have some
serious stuff to talk about.

Our fabulous leader,
whom we shall respect,
has made our nation great,
as 195 countries --
excluding our's, of course --
citizens now have American flags
drilled into their skulls.
As an act of kindness,  
Our fabulous leader,
has given each of these citizens
the choice of keeping or removing
the flags. Of course, if one were
to try to remove the flag,
a tiny explosive would detonate,
as one can never be too sure
if a citizen would use the flag
as a weapon -- and, of course,
there is no promise that the flag
wouldn't touch the ground,
so Our fabulous leader explained
that flag burning would be an
acceptable method of removing the
flag from this plane of existence.

Here, today, we have political pundit --
or political genius; you decide --
Ryan Tomlinson to discuss this radical
new way of life, we unfortunately have
to endure. Ryan, what are your thoughts
on the controversial method of discarding
the flag: a symbol of our strength, love,
                                          and freedom?

"Well, I'll tell you Mike: you think you're
the mad one, you should ask my wife
about my reaction when I learned about
this atrocious tiny explosive destroying --
yes, destroying -- our great and mighty flag!"

Haha, is that right, Ryan? I bet Nancy got
the Rowdy Ryan I've met on Nickle Shot Night.
What were her thoughts on your reaction --
better, yet, what was your reaction, Ryan?

"Well, I can't tell you exactly how she
reacted to my reaction, because I wasn't
really listening. But, I tell you, ever since
He Who Shall Not Be Named left the office,
Our fabulous leader has had to adopt some of
his wild and, frankly, immoral methods --
which would include the burning of our flag."

You got that right, Ryan. It reminds me of
when my oldest left for college, leaving behind
some beers that little Matthew ended up drinking.
My point is,  He Who Shall Not Be Named
has left some stains that still need to be cleaned up,
but I am confident that Our fabulous leader will
scrub those right up; if Matthew can do it, so can he.
To move on, here's an issue I have
that no one is really talking about, Ryan:
Not only are you detonating this flag -- a
flag that millions of men, God Bless Them,
have fought and died for -- but you're also
covering this symbol of freedom in the
blood and gore and scalp and guts of
these dangerous people who would love
nothing more than to see our symbol destroyed.

"You hit the nail right on the head, Mike!
These people don't understand what it is
like to be an American; to deal with their
oppression and policing of our values.
They already have succeeded in dividing us
when it comes to this whole flag removal
method. You can't reason with these, people.
You can try to offer them a Benjamin;
you can try to give them tickets to Transformers,
but these people will never respect us or our
way of life. And these liberals are right behind them!
I'm not sure what the liberals plans are, right now,
but you can be sure they'll use this whole flag thing
to exploit something. Hell, they're already talking
about how we should teach these people to **** --
what if they get to them, first, and teach them to
**** on the GD flag?! The liberals are helping divide us!
That's what they do!"

You are so, so right, Ryan. This country is full of
the wrong ****; and is going down the toilet.
Well, unfortunately,
we have to go to commercial, but you can bet
your keister that we'll continue this important
discussion that involves your liberty,
your job, and your soldiers.
Mad Mike in the Morning, with special guest,
Ryan Tomlinson -- be right back.
Don't go away.

As chief diplomat,
By the way-o,
You're NOTHING but a rat,
Mike Pompeo.

So Trump has become
Your protégé-o.
Sounds like zero-sum,
Mike Pompeo.

Supporters you may please
Every day-o
By acting like a ******,
Mike Pompeo.

But most of us see fully--
Let us say-o--
The workings of a bully,
Mike Pompeo.

Kelly° asked about
The game you play-o,
And all you did was shout,
Mike Pompeo.

Calling her a liar,
Not okay-o,
When YOUR pants are on fire,
Mike Pompeo.

Your reputation's in
Disarray-o--
One more thing to spin,
Mike Pompeo.

What are you trying
To convey-o
With your constant lying,
Mike Pompeo?

You and Trump should know--
Come what may-o--
You'll reap what you sow,
Mike Pompeo.

-by Bob B (1-30-20)

°Mary Louise Kelly, NPR reporter

Mike Arms--1 day ago
write a few lines, I'll match em. Can you do it ?

david badgerow--14 hours ago
banjo strings frayed by broken fingernails
fistful of downers to sleep this night away
i open my eyelids out of dream, singing ladies'
eyes downcast thru fear & tobacco smoke
wake up, roll joint, get this day started.

Mike Arms--10 hours ago
being pure ether ain't no ****** picnic
this september looks right at ***** smearing
its pale arms reaching clearly into murderers
lungs groping mute celibate
if you beheld her whole form means silence

david badgerow--10 hours ago
lying back on the car seat, her eyelids heavy
she breathes diamonds and pure electricity
in an endless velvet desert, radio warbles over a hill
"oh, if i were young again, legs spread leaning against a table."
hard labor, aluminum tubes between
continental divide
echo chamber vibrations plunging
their tiny lamps in and out of her eyeball

Mike Arms--8 hours ago
Hard Luck Man
crossing floods
inanimate intelligence

is assassinated
they cross themselves
a world deaf

*** revolution
worst gamble
you remain

YOU HAVE
TO WANT IT



MAN
“go outside,” the doctor says,
“stand on the grass for fifteen minutes a day.”
you’re here because today you want to get better.
“tell me how you’re feeling.”
“I’m scared.”

“I mean physically.”
“so do I.”




ANGEL
an angel can come in a burst of a blister,
on the tip of a finger.
he always starts small
with the whispers,
         “i know about love,”
   like you asked for it.

he prefers to come at the end of the month,
            amid deadlines, another set of blood-soaked, ruined *******,
some traces
     of the relationship with your father and failure.
but you like that: having an excuse that sends you
   scrambling for car keys.

    at first it’s forests, their fires,
the flowers that follow once the ash and skin and soil
are mixed. at first it’s earth and rubbing it in,
     seeing god behind your eyelids.

so you clean the pipes, keep washing sheets.
      the voices they stop coming; once in a while you
      read online how many kids this week have overdosed
    on ****** and it’s foreign. kids with dirt
under their fingernails, kids in basements, kids
with ***** canvas shoes and overgrown cuticles.
           they don’t look like you. you still look like
you.




MAN
                   mike sparks a j in the basement.
        we chew on xanax and no one’s paying attention to the TV.
some white static and early afternoon rain. it’s made me gone
ghost, sitting on a leather recliner, silent with a cigarette.
              it’s a right of initation to carve your name in mike’s
coffee table and sign on the back wall. this summer I added
   mine alongside the kids I used to get nervous around in high school.
                       his mom comes downstairs with a joint of her own rolled
and a French manicure. her lip liner is too dark for her
lipstick, and phil’s warmly lit and ivan leans so far into the
couch he isn’t human.

mike sits up, “ma,
you know you owe me some money?” he changes the channel.
she laughs throaty, her insides a swamp. she’s
prettier when she’s high like this.
                       “I got your money,” she promises. it gets soft
from there and phil smiles over his body and ivan moves
further into the couch. she touches mike’s hair.

“good kid,” she tells me and I smile up at her. I wish I had
a body but I left it wandering through
the thunderstorm outside. ivan nods his hazy head.
          mike hands her a diet coke and she hands him a fifty and she goes—through the walls—
       phil digs his hand into the couch cushions to find papers. I go
ghost in the seconds it takes him to spark his lighter.

the ghost lights herself a cigarette.
   the ghost lights herself another cigarette.
               the ghost lights herself a cigarette. “are you chain
smoking now,” phil slurs playfully. “yes,” the ghost agrees.
     “are you having fun,” ivan turns to her.
                “yes.”

HUMAN
i don't want to know what love is like i want
                                       air that
                     tastes like apples and
       i want real raw
         brown sugar
       i want to shoot up every
grey second for two weeks— get frantic then
       take benzodiazepine until i shred my
stomach lining, singing
                                                    
            i want bud light and
a backyard. bed time stories and
            white furniture and ritz crackers
             with fancy party cheeses
                              i want to complain about the drinking age,
                              new york’s black-dusty wind charm. complain like the
                              moon is still lonely and not a destination
                                          i want to wake up in the sun spot
                                          i want to wake up to a baby crying
                          soft like mothers do, going to
                                     that dear one to quiet them down,
                                        i can be here to kiss you calm
                                                              i want to get out of bed
                                                              i want to call friends back
so winter can come and i can still
                              go home.



       WANT
         throwing on the rag&bon;; jeans,
         neither rag nor bone more milky skeleton-ized, eyes
         pin headed. faces struck yellow all tops of the heads
         with umbrellas and sorry throats. "here take mine" no
         "you'll get sick" it's fine
                                                        the gothic church with social strangers
                                                       ­ tweakers and nodders all smiley side-
                                                        eye­-Y
                        i know the gimme gimme
                        i know the routine
         and blondie (they think) here she comin she twenty years clean
         blondies a baby she weak as **** she dont know what she got
but i know the "i want" "i want"
         and the ok baby,
         Got U




HUMAN
i dont want to know what love is like,
                  i want to walk the manhattan bridge at sunrise
                  i want
                       grass wisps and capers
                       chicken noodle soup
                       a night at the new york city ballet
                       and pauses in sentences, in breath
                       the breath before a kiss or the breath
                       after it. i want instant hot chocolate
                       and reality television, ugg slippers with
                       faux trim. a bicycle painted lilac with a
                       basket, and clear skin. i want pier 63 on
                       a 70 degree day, the weepies playing
i want to be a ghost
            where ghosts are white sheets with two button eyes
             and make jokes about halloween and their past lives
i want to go there
to street fairs
and watch fireworks and write out names
in fresh concrete patches
                                                     i want to eat blackberries in the bathtub
                                                     i want skin to make me feel safe again
                                   i want to want to live
                                   but i know the "i want" "i want" and the ok baby,
Got U




WANT

they were right,
                               they were all
              going (right
they were righjt
they were right

air hanging eyes to dry
blood pull in push out brown golden push IN
  

they were right they were all right
nothing could ever make me as happy again



WANT

it’s a hold on something so quiet and soft in your hands and no one knows what it is and you dont know what it is. it’s the pin drop in a hospital room and so lemonade refreshing. im in a snowstorm and i cant see the city, cant see past my own two feet. im on a long highway drive and it’s rain that comes in sheets so hard i cant move. i walk and the world writhes underneath me and we put needles in our arms. and we wait for the blood push. and i watch my life go away in warm *******. and i watch it go this way like it’s not me. and i’m going home to ****** and i’m scared, i say outloud to maggie, “i’m scared i’m going to do something stupid,” and she is so quick to say “like what” that i know she knows what it is. and i’m so scared.





WANT

give up on me , I Know where im going. don’t follow. don’t even look for me. keep
Counting sugar cubes and stirring your coffee , it is my wish for you that it always tastes sweet.
I love you












WANT


i just wanted to be kept warm by something that looked like love



MAN
i walk slower on the streets of manhattan; stop at
   the strand, look for the man with eyebrow rings
asking "do you know where a girl in this city could get some relief?"
         he laughs, says he just looks like someone who would know
            that. he asks, "is that Monster Blood?”
                             &nbsp

What I should have said
when Mike Whittle died, was
what a mighty man he was,
though small in stature,
yeah, how he set the students’
minds on fire.
Instead I said
he always jabbed himself with insulin
while we were having lunch
and I said that this was a literary tradition
like Polonius being stabbed in the arras
and Mark Antony falling on his sword after Actium
before Octavian could get there ahead of him.
And then I said that Antony's lover Cleopatra died
when she arranged to be bitten on her ***** by an asp.
And I thought I was a smart *** by saying
don’t get confused and think she was bitten on her asp.
Well, Mike and I did laugh about literary allusions,
along with all that insulin and his pancreas,
during all of those immortal lunches.
But what I should have said was that students
worshiped him, and they said that
‘he gave me my love of learning’.
Mike, you mighty little giant.
And how I loved that you could laugh when the admin staff
tried to cut you down because they hate popularity so much.
Those blasts of laughter in your classes
frightened them and they thought you were
an iconoclast. Oh Mike.  I love you, just like all your students.
That's what I should have said about
the gifts you gave us all in
Learn, Love and Laughter 101.
This is your immortal epitaph.

Mike T Minehan

first step

when he looks at a woman he searches for qualities that attract him because he wants to desire her yet this tendency creates an imbalance or disadvantage he is rendered weak to a woman’s beauty or whatever traits he idealizes self-realizing this propensity he looks away from women years of disappointment neglect change him he becomes afraid of women gynophobic

2

when she looks at a man she searches for qualities she is critical of because she wants to be impervious to his power she is suspicious of all men their upper body strength penchant to be in control misperception of women as property misogyny emotional immaturity neediness to be mommyed selfishness insensitivity or over-sensitivity depending she wants to be treated with equal respect a loving nurturing relationship she is suspicious of all people their alternate realities passive aggressive behavior co-dependence craziness

3

he sees her then looks away she suspiciously notices nothing happens they go back to their separate homes alone always home alone grown calm in resignation yet disbelieving of this destiny saddened by this fate both worry about future she looks at her face naked body in mirror her stomach churns feels sad sickening remembers time when she was more carefree he puts one foot in front of other then walks tries to remember who taught him to walk how many times did he fall who taught him to laugh where did his sense of humor go

4

he sees her thinks she is lovely resists the urge to turn away he smiles says hello she notices nervously smiles her shaky voice articulates louder than a whisper hi

Tucson 2-step

they are standing in line at a café on 4th avenue he is directly behind her she is lanky wearing white background faded colors patterned summer dress thin straps over bare shoulders long brown hair few gray strands small unfinished tattoo on left calf leather slip-ons 1 inch heals he is at a complete loss for words thinks to make remark about the weather decides not to overhead fan stirs hot humid July air barista girl asks what she would like her eyes scan blackboard menu behind counter she hesitates remarks help him i need an extra moment to decide he steps up to counter money in hand orders small to go Arnold Palmer half black current lays $3 on counter mentions change goes in tip jar thank you barista girl moves fast he lifts cup from counter glances at woman still deciding then at barista girl says have a wonderful day turns walks out door dawns on him woman grows hair under her arms his 2nd most compelling female physique adornment fetish oh god he thinks to himself should i wait for her to make up her mind then approach try to craft conversation at least find out her name no i’m too weak in this moment she is so lovely let her go

2

she orders double Americana in small cup to go room for soy milk thinks to herself he did greet her perhaps their paths will cross on street why did he run off so fast she glances toward front of café notices window seat changes her mind instructs barista ******* 2nd thought make it for here digs through purse realizes she left wallet in truck explains to barista girl she needs to run out to her vehicle to retrieve wallet forgotten under front seat the air on the street is heavy dense she smells her own perspiration looks north then south does not see him walks to truck feels exhausted appetiteless almost nauseous wishes she did not order a drink thinks to get behind wheel drive home go to sleep

Tucson 3-step tango

she feels disappointment by her recent writings as if she is reaching a more sophisticated audience and setting a higher standard for her work yet she is not living up to her ambitions her recent writings smell of her past writings too emotional the damaged woman wounded child she wants to write more introspectively with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence she slams her laptop shut decides to go to Club Congress for a ****** mary or margarita but Club Congress is haunted with small town cretins losers wannabes she considers Maynard’s decides Maynard’s is too safe suburban yuppyish finally gives in to thought of glass of pinot noir at Plush next comes what to wear jeans in mid-July desert heat is unacceptable perhaps loose fitting thin cotton white summer dress thin leather belt ankle high indian moccasins hair in ponytail no pigtail braids no ponytail no makeup maybe little ylang ylang oil no she thinks about her recent writings

2

i am one breath away from crying in every moment one breath away from flying m.i.a. in every moment one breath away from destroying everything there is beauty in ugliness beauty in decrepitude disease beauty in harm hurt suffering beauty in greed injustice betrayal beauty in corruption contamination pollution beauty in hate cruelty ignorance beauty in death we spend our whole lives searching for a good death we spend our whole lives searching for eternal love this modern world is too much for me over my head the horrors of this place are beyond words unspeakable voice inside maybe mom yells quit your whining or dad hollers stop complaining i am trying to smile through tears one breath away from giving in one breath away from becoming stranger to myself winter spring winter spring there is beauty in nothingness we spend our whole lives searching for ourselves learning who we are not finding grasping secrets from dark paths light trails winter spring winter spring i am one breath away

3

she sits alone at bar at Plush glass of pinot noir glass of ice water in front of her 2 bearded older men eye her from other end of bar she ignores them glances at her wristwatch tries to look like she is waiting for someone music from speakers antiquated rock standard it is early friday hours from dusk moderate middle aged crowd mingle wait for local jazz trio to begin she thinks about her recent writings wonders is it too late for love considers lesbian affair from 5 different perspectives 5 woman’s voices each describing same lesbian affair in 5 opposing accounts hmmm she sips dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water she considers a story about a gang of female bikers who ride south to Mexico

4

the Americans came through here last night crossing border illegally climbing over our fences digging tunnels beneath our barrier walls littering along their trail they travel in packs of every skin color carry guns knives explosives wear leather boots some are shirtless tattoos dyed hair mischievously smiling conceitedly stealing when in question murdering they rob our homes slaughter our chickens ransack gardens loot our harvest you can still smell the stink of their fast food breaths

5

she swallows the last dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water local jazz trio begins to play as bar fills with more people she decides to walk home one foot in front of other wonders who taught her how to walk how many times did she fall she laughs to herself

Tucson square dance

TPD 10-18 unconfirmed data report

7 post-University of Arizona female graduates go to Cactus Moon for several drinks and dancing then drive to Bashful Bandit for more drinks and dancing 2 women get into scuffle victim Brittany Garner female 23 years of age race #5 (Native American, Eskimo, Middle -Eastern, Other) 5’ 2” long black hair cut-off blue jean shorts clingy light blue top falls hits head on side of bar dies of fatal blow to skull forensics report crushed occipital lobe assailant Stacy Won female 31 years of age race #4 (Asian) 5’6” black jeans black leather jacket red helmet Honda motorcycle still at large

witness accounts

Jess Delaney female 33 years of age race #2 (White) 6’ tight black pencil skirt white sleeveless undershirt no bra 3” heels blond ponytail “that squirting little **** deserves everything she got she lied told Stacy i’m a ***** i never cheated on Brittany i don’t understand we were all having a good time getting buzzed and dancing we should never have left Cactus Moon **** Kerrie thought some biker dude might be hanging around the Bandit hell maybe the Bandit was a biker bar once but now it’s just a college sink hole full of drunken frat boys when Monique flashed a little *** they went crazy cheering and buying us shots it just got out of hand never should have happened the way it happened Stacy didn’t mean to **** Brittany it’s ****** up i want to go home please let me go home”

Sabrina Starn female 29 years of age race #2 (White) 5’8” trendy corporate gray suit black pumps red shoulder length hair “i have to be at work at 8 AM Stacy was drunk out of control she gets crazy when she drinks Brittany was trash talking pushing all Stacy’s buttons then Stacy accused Brittany of sleeping with Monique and all hell broke loose i didn’t see what happened i was in the powder room it’s a terrible tragedy unfortunate accident can i please be released i need to sleep this is madness”

Kerrie Angeles female 27 years of age race #1 (Hispanic) 5’ 6” black pants white shirt black hair cut stylishly short silver crucifix around neck red fingernails “when we got to the Bashful Bandit i was ***** soaking between my legs thinking about a cowgirl at Cactus Moon ready to **** anyone i saw fantasized pulling a train with those frat boys Monique had been kind of quiet at Cactus Moon but when we got to the Bashful Bandit she lit up dancing wild unbuttoning her top jacket Sabrina went to the ladies room to snort coke with biker dude Kerrie wanted but he wasn’t into her then Brittany started saying crazy stuff accusing Stacy of stealing Monique from Jess Jessie goes through women heartlessly she doesn’t give a **** about Monique Jessie knows if she wants Monique back she can simply fiddle a finger my guess is Stacy is half way to Argentina she never meant to **** Brittany i’m going to miss her real bad she was a good kid”

Ann Skyler female 28 years of age race  #2 (White) 4’ 11’’ green white red Mexican peasant skirt black t-shirt black high-tops hair in messy bun “i’m confused i saw them dancing laughing grinding up against each other Rage Against the Machine came on then Nine Inch Nails the room felt quaking dizzy claustrophobic then they were pushing each other shoving yelling frat boys cheering the next thing i knew Brittany was supine on the floor blood pouring out maybe she just slipped hit her head i don’t know what to think i feel real sad confused sick to my stomach scared”

Monique Smithson female 24 years of age race # 3 (Black) 5’ 9” blue jeans jean jacket cowboy boots nose ring braided pigtails “Stacy had it in for Brittany from the start i saw it in her eyes at Cactus Moon she made several clever toxic remarks they snapped at each other i never thought it would escalate to ****** poor sweet Brittany was always so susceptible i was looking down adjusting my jeans over my boots when it happened i heard felt a big thump glanced up Brittany was lying there lifeless blood spilling everywhere Stacy ran out fast i heard her bike engine take off in a hurry”

Rodeo Drive Tucson

matt’s hats tom’s tools & tobacco lou’s liquors fred’s beds frank’s planks bill’s drills jane’s drains & panes chuck’s check cashing cheryl’s barrels hank’s tanks tina’s trucks & tractors walt’s asphalt sean’s pawn rick’s rifles mom’s guns terry’s tires charlie’s harleys rhonda’s hondas jim’s rims art’s parts gus’s gasoline mike’s bikes frank’s feed gwen’s pens ann’s cans nancy’s nursery joes‘s clothes jess’s dresses bert’s skirts steve’s sleeves paul’s shawls michelle’s shells & bells al’s pails & snails sam’s hams & jams patty’s pancakes phil’s chili don’s donuts betty’s spaghetti bob’s burgers alycia’s quiches jean’s beans jerry’s berries anna’s bananas andy’s candies cathy’s taffies tony’s ponies roy’s toys kim’s whims marty’s parties jill’s pills rick’s tricks alice’s palace debbie’s disposal dave’s graves

Quinta Waltz de Tucson

she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary efforts she dreams aches to create deeper discourse higher insight more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration instead she writes paperback television trash stupid inadequate answers to solemn questions she wonders if she is too scratched dented to find love her ******* are definitely changing she is deeply disturbed not ready for menopause too young for menopause she wants to remain a fertile woman with smooth skin wet ******

2

her neighbor Leslie awoke to horrible morning Leslie’s 6 chickens were assaulted overnight precious Mabel dragged off feathers everywhere trail down the street other hens cowering slumped together with wilted necks 3 of them with puncture wounds Leslie carried them one by one inside washed their wounds hugged them cried who did this terrible act a neglected abusive neighborhood cat or some desert predator why didn’t Leslie wake to sounds of savage marauding now this creature knows hen’s whereabouts when will it return for more massacre what modifications need to be enforced to ensure their coup before nightfall

3

she wants to remain a hen keep producing eggs does not want is not ready to enter the next **** stage of this **** existence it was fun being pretty for men inspiring them to say do whacky things she wants to remain a hen she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary attempts “Tucson square dance” (self-referential) ****** bit about Americans came through here last night in “Tucson 3-step” ****** "Rodeo Drive" tepid perhaps the pinot noir lowered her standards everything is becoming nothing she cannot sleep tosses turns thrashes sheets in humid heat of her lonesome bed is she is too scratched dented to find love she worries for Leslie

4

tomorrow is another day they say the rain will come last year’s monsoon never came the baking sun smothered her garden died one by one sleepless she will miss tomorrow’s pilates class the infrequent delightful chatty breakfast afterwards she dreams aches of deeper discourse higher insight with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration she crossed the line tonight her ******* are definitely changing

Tucson 666

he decides to shave eighth to quarter inch length salt and pepper beard a.k.a. unshaven look he has worn for years and grow full mustache the whiskers on his upper lip are darker with sparse gray at first no one notices after weeks the mustache gradually fills evoking many contrasting remarks several women loath it several men admire it girl at grocery store suggests he grow Fu Manchu so she can tug on it shopgirl says he looks like Charlie Chaplin downstairs neighbor from Turkey explains most Turkish men traditionally wear mustaches he read mustaches masculinize and empower men especially men in authoritative positions he thinks back to the 1960’s when many hippie males grew mustaches then in the 70’s gay men fashioned mustaches then in the 80’s cops adopted mustaches he wonders why a swatch of hair beneath nose is so provoking examines his visage in mirror discerns the mustache confers a Pepé le Pew quality or European accent to his appearance he remembers when he was young hippie with many amorous episodes how his mustache preserved the scent of a woman but there are no women in his life for many years do post-menopausal women possess scent? he feels indecisive whether to retain it or be rid of it

2

she observes her figure in mirror thinks to herself maybe her ******* are not changing perhaps it’s all in her head she inspects the little lines forming near her eyelids studies her features for signs of aging hardly any silver strands in long brown hair she examines neck ******* arms elbows fingers tummy hips pelvic region thighs knees shins calves ankles feet detects subtle changes thinks to herself my ******* are possibly slightly changing turned 40 in March married briefly in late teens no children a 15 year old dog beginning to suffer veterinarian promises to warn her when the time comes she wonders why it is so difficult finding fitting mate men sleep with her several times then move on maybe she is not such a great lover perhaps she would be better if one of them stuck around perhaps she is a lesbian the whole ide

In toasting Mike I recollect
His steady watching gaze,
I recollect his calm
On a thousand stormy days.
I recall his jaunty humour
In his funny cockney style,
And the rationale behind it
And the pleasure of his smile.

And the quiet determination
In the steeliness within
And the love that emanated
When his Jules laughed loud with him.
When he held her hand and strolled
In the life they shared as one,
In the racket of the grand kids
As they shout and leap and run.

Through the years of hardy seamanship
From England's chalky reach,
Across the ocean's vastness
To far antipodean beach,
To the soft greens of New Zealand
And the promise of this land
And the shining eyes of Jules
When he offered her his hand.

And the life they shared together
Through the joy, the strain the tears
The utter joy of baby Kristin
And her beauty through the years.
The seamlessness of craftmanship
In tradesman's art supreme
And the pride of his achievement
In a sweet successful dream.

A chasm has appeared in life
Where old Mike used to be.
Dreadfull death has exercised
It's right to set him free.
But I can't feel bad for Micheal
For the brilliance of it all
Is celebration of his life well lived
And my toast to judgement's call.

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
10 January 2010.

It was a little Girl and a Male Greyhound Bus Driver. It was a little Girl who travelled quite frequently on a Greyhound bus from Houston, Texas to Lake Charles, Louisiana to visit her Grandparent. Being a young passenger alone, the Greyhound Bus Driver known as Mike always looked after her through her journey on his bus. Mike treated the little Girl as if it was his daughter he never had. Mike’s Wife had died and he never had any children. It was always Mike’s friendly warm hands at the Greyhound bus steering wheel and his storytelling vibes that embraced the fatherly approach from Mike, the Greyhound bus Driver. Mike was the guardian Angel to the little girl from the years then and still embarking even today. But there is a change. The little girl is all grown up into an adult woman. The little girl now adulthood never forget the caring heart that Mike had for her as a child. Admiration came a long way. Stacey was that little girl, but now has fond memories back then. Stacey spends time with Mike on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Birthdays they spend together with each other.

Stacey’s Grandmother passed some time ago, but that doesn’t stop her in her journey with Mike being like a faithful Dad in her travels from Houston to Lake Charles. Many miles shared together. Once a little Girl captured a Hound bus Driver’s heart. The watch and listen being a true story of its own. Highway miles and loving smiles.