There it was on the calendar, Saturday May 11,2013. Big red circle around the date and written in black pen in the middle…SPELLING BEE. Plain as day, you couldn’t miss it. One of the biggest days of the school year for geeks and nerds alike.





Today was the day. In two hours, The 87th Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee, would begin.  This was a huge event in the history of Thomas Polk Elementary School. It would be one of the biggest, if not THE BIGGEST in the history of The Twin Counties.



There would be twenty-one schools represented with their best and brightest spellers. The gymnasium would be full of parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and media representatives. Yes, invitations had been sent out to both of the local papers in The Twin Counties, and both had replied in the affirmative. Real media, in Thomas Polk Elementary School, with a shared photographer….the big time had come to town.



Inside the gymnasium, work had been going on all night in preparation of the big event. The Teachers Auxiliary Group had set up bunting across the stage, purple and white of course, for the school colours. The school colours were actually purple and cream, but, there was a wedding at Our Lady of The Weeping Sisters Baptist Church later, and they had emptied the sav-mart of all of the cream coloured bunting and crepe paper. So, white it would be.



It looked spectacular. There were balloons tied to the basketball net at the south end of the gym. It wouldn’t wind up after the last game, so something had to be done to hide it. Balloons fit the bill. There was three levels of benches on the stage for the competitors, a microphone dead center stage and two 120 watt white spot lights aimed at the microphone.  Down in front, was a judges table, also covered in bunting and crepe, with a smaller microphone sitting in the middle. There was a cord connecting it to the stage speaker system, taped to the gym floor with purple duct tape, just to fit in. Big time, big time.



The piece de resistance sat at the right side of the judges table. An eight foot high pole, with an electronic stop watch and two traffic lights, donated from the local public utilities commission, in red and green. The timer had been rigged up by the uncle of one of the competitors, possibly to gain an advantage, to help keep the judges honest in their timings. Besides, it looked fancy, and it had a cool looking remote control.











The gym was filled to capacity. One hundred and Seventy Five Entrants, visitors, judges and media were crammed into plastic chairs, benches, and whatever lawn chairs the Teachers Auxiliary were able to borrow, that weren’t being used for the wedding at the Baptist Church. It was time to begin….



The three judges came in from the left of the clock, and sat down. The entrants were all nervously waiting on stage on the benches. The media representatives were down front, for photo opportunities, of course.



Judge number one, in the middle of the table clicked on the microphone in front of him and turned to the crowd. In doing so, he spilled his water on his notes and pulled the duct tape loose on the floor in front.



“Greetings, and welcome to the 87th Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee.” There was some mild clapping from the family members, along with a few muffled whistles and two duck calls from the back. The weak response was due to the fact that most of the parents either had small fans (due to the heat), donated from the local Funeral Home, or hot dogs and beer (from the tailgating outside), in their hands. Needless to say, it was still a positive response.



The judge carried on…”Today’s competition brings together the top spellers in the region of the Twin Counties to do battle on our stage. All of the words used today, have been selected from a number of sources, including Webster’s Dictionary, from our own school library, Words with Friends from the inter web, keeping up with modern culture, and finally from two books of Dr. Suess that we had lying around the office. Each competitor will get one minute to answer once his or her word has been selected. We ask that you please refrain from applause until after the judges have confirmed the spelling, and please no help to the competitors. We now ask that you all turn off any electronic media, cell phones, pagers, etc. so we can begin”.



He then turned to the stage and asked all competitors to remove their cell phones and put them in the bright orange laundry basket, usually reserved for floor hockey sticks. Each student deposited their phones, all one hundred and thirty-seven of them in the basket.  We were ready to start.





“Competitor number one…please approach the microphone and state your name and your school” said Judge number two. Judge number two would be in charge of calling the students up, it seemed. She was the librarian at Thomas Polk. She had typical librarian glasses, with the silver chain attached to the arms, flaming red hair, done up in a bee hive uplift, just for the event, and was called Miss Flume. She was married, but, being the south, she was always addressed as Miss.



The first student advanced to the front of the stage. She had bright pink hair, held in place with a gold hairband, black shoes, and a yellow jumper. She looked like a walking number 2 pencil. The two duck calls came from the back of the gymnasium along with scattered applause. All three judges turned and looked to the back, and then turned to face the young girl.



“My name is Bobbie Jo Collister, I am a senior at Jackson Williams School of Fine Arts and Music”. “Thank you Bobbie Joe” said Miss Flume. Bobbie Jo, smiled nervously and put on her glasses. “Your word is horticulture” announced Judge number one, “horticulture”.  Bobbie Jo took a breath and without asking for a definition, usage, root of the word or anything, just ripped through it without fail in three point two seconds, according to the mammoth timepiece at the end of the table. After conferring, the judges clicked on the green street light and she sat down, amidst more duck calls and clapping.



Student number two went through the entire process as did students three through eight. Each one had glasses, no surprise there, and were all dressed in monochromatic themes. Together, they looked like a life sized box of crayolas ready for a halloween party. Each child spelled their words correctly and were subsequently cheered and applauded.



Student nine then approached the microphone, stopping about a good seven feet short and three feet right of it. “My name is Oliver Parnocky” squeaked the lad. “I go to George W. Bush P.S 19 and am a senior.” Miss Flume, grabbed the small mike in front of her and said “Oliver…put on your glasses and move over to the microphone.” She leaned into the other judges, and said “He goes to my school, he doesn’t like wearing them much, and he’s always outside at recess talking to the flagpole after everyone else has come inside”.



“Oliver, please spell Dichotomy” said Judge number one. Judge two started the clock and they waited….and waited…then out burst this voice….DICHOTOMY…D I C H O T O M E E, , no, wait..D I C K O….****!” The crowd erupted in laughter, Oliver was busted. The judges conferred, and after informing poor Oliver they had never heard it spelled quite that way with an O **** at the end, they triggered the red light and Oliver left the stage to sit in the audience with his folks.



The next three kids, all with glasses, like it was part of an unwritten uniform dress code for the day, all advanced and sat down. The next entrant, number thirteen, luckily enough stood from the back and struggled down to the front of the stage. There were gasps and some snickering from the crowd. She was taller than the previous competitors,  and a little more pregnant as well. “Please state your name” said Miss Flume. “My name is Betty Jo Willin and am a senior at

Buford T. Pusser Parochial School”. At this announcement there was a cheer of “Got Wood at B.T. Pusser” from the crowd. The judges turned, asked for silence and the offending nuns returned to their seats. “Miss Willin, how old are you exactly?” asked Judge number one. “Twenty Two sir”. “And you say you are a senior?” “Yes sir” came the reply. Betty Jo was shuffling a bit as the pressure on her bladder must have been building standing there in her delicate condition. After conferring, judge number one said “That sounds about right, your word is PROPHYLACTIC”. The few people in the crowd that knew the meaning of the word laughed, while the rest continued eating their hot dogs and drinking their sodas and beers. “Please give a definition sir..I don’t believe I know that word”. The judges looked at each other with a definite “I’m not surprised” look and rattled off the definition. When she asked for usage, the judges really didn’t know what to do. Should they give a sentence using the word or explain the usage of a prophylactic, which regardless would have been too late anyway.

After a modicum of control was reached, she attempted the word, getting all tongue tied and naturally messing it up. The red light was triggered and she left the stage.



More strange outfits, bowties, hair nets, jumpers, clip on ties, followed. It looked like a fashion parade from Goodwill and The Salvation Army rolled into one. Most attempted their words and were green lighted onwards to the next round, while those who failed, were red lighted back to the crowd and the tailgate party in the parking lot. As each competitor was eliminated, the betting board that was being manned outside by one father was updated with new odds and payouts.



The first round was approaching an end with only three kids left. “Number nineteen please approach and state your name” said Miss Flume. He plume of red hair was starting to sag and was sliding slowly off of her head due to the humidity in the gymnasium.



Number nineteen came forth, glasses, tape across the bridge like half of the previous spellers. He was wearing the most colourful shirt that any of the judges had ever seen. It was not from Dickies, they surmised. “I go to J.J. Washington P.S 117 and my name is Mujibar Julinoor Parkhurloonakiir”. The judges froze. He obviously was new to the district. They had never heard a name like that before, ever. Not even in Ghandi. This was a powerful name. There had been sixteen cominations of Bobby, Bobbie, Billie, Jo, Joe, Jimmy, Jeff, Johnson and Jackson prior to Mujibar. Stunned, judge one asked “Son, can you spell that please?”

Mujibar, not sure what to do, spelled his name, unsure of why he was being asked to do so. “Thank you son” said Miss Flume. The odds on the betting board in the parking lot changed right then.



“That boy is gonna win fer sure” said Jimmy Jeff Willerkers. Jimmy Jeff ran the filling station two concessions over and had fifty bucks on his nephew Bobby Jeff, who had already flamed out on “yawl”. “How was he supposed to know  it had something to do with boats?” asked Jimmy Jeff. “That Mujibar is gonna win…jeez, he’s been spelling that name for years….anything else is gonna be easy breezy.” The odds went down on Mujibar and the money was flying around that parking lot faster than the rumour that the revenue people were out looking for stills in the woods.



“Mujibar…please spell SALICIOUS”…asked the now red pancake headed Miss Flume. Doing as he was told, Mujibar, spelled the word, gave the root, a definition and a brief history of the word usage in modern literature. Judge number one was furiously scribbling down notes, and trying to figure out how he would get a bet down on this kid before round two started.



Entrant number twenty from Jefferson Davis Temple and Hebrew school advanced which brought up the final entrant from round one. “Number Twenty-One please advance to the front of the stage”. After adjusting his glasses, after all he didn’t want a repeat of what poor Oliver did, he approached. “My name is C.J. Kay from William Clinton P.S 68” Judge one, confused by the young man’s name asked him to repeat it. “C.J. Kay” said C.J. “What is your full last name boy, you can’t just have a letter as your last name….what is the K for?” “Sir, my last name is Kay”, said C.J. “It’s not a letter”. “It most certainly is son…H I J K L…rattled off judge one. “It has to stand for something, you just can’t be CJK, that sounds like a Canadian radio station or worse yet, one of them hippy hoppy d.j fellers my granddaughter listens to. What is the K for?”. C.J said sir “My name is Christopher John Kay… not K, Kay” and then spelled it out. This only confused judge one more than he already was, and the extra time figuring out his name was doing nothing to Miss Flume’s hairdo.



“Christopher John….please spell MEPHISTOPHOLES “ said Judge one, after realizing he was never going to find out what the K was for. The crowd was getting restless and wanted to get to the truck to get re-filled and change their bets. C.J. knocked it out of the park in 2.7 seconds…”faster than Lee Harvey Oswald at a target shoot in Dallas”, one man said.



After a ten minute break, to get drinks, ***, re-tape some glasses and prop up Miss Flumes ruined plumage round two was set to begin. This went faster as the words were getting tougher, although randomly selected, judge one was inserting a few new words to keep his chance of winning with Mujibar alive. PALIMONY, ARCHEOLOGY, PARSIMONIOUS, TRIPTOTHYLAMINE , and many other words were thrown at the competitors. Each time the list of successful spellers was reduced, and the amount of clapping and the duck calls were less.

The seventh round began with just Mujibar, B.J. Collister and C. J Kay left. Before the round began the judges reminded the crowd that the words were random, and to please keep the cheering until the green light had been lit. There were more duck calls at this announcement and very little applause. Jerry Jeff was still manning the betting board, the tailgate barbeque was done, and there was only about thirty people left in the gymnasium.



The balloons on the basketball net had long since lost their get up and go, and were now hanging limply like coloured rubber scrotums and were flatter that Miss Flumes hair, which incidently, was now starting to streak the right side of her face from sweat washing out the dye. She was beginning to look like an extra in a zombie film with a brilliant orange red streak across her forehead.



“C.J.” said judge one, “please spell ARYTHMOMYACIN”. C.J. gave it a valiant effort ,but unfortunately was incorrect and the red light sent him off to the showers. This left B.J. Collister and the odds on favourite, Mujibar. The crowd was down to twenty seven now, Bobbie Jo’s folks and Mujibars immediate family.



Round after round were completed with neither one missing a word. Neither one blinked. It was a gunfight where both shooters died. These two were good, and it was never going to end. Judge one leaned over and told the other judges, “we have to finish this soon….I’m due at the wedding over to the Baptist church for nine o’clock to bless the happily marrieds and drive them both to the airport. They’re off to Cuba for their honeymoon.” The others agreed…”C.J. please spell MINISCULE said Miss Flume”. She did so, without a problem. This caused judge one to yell out “Holy Christmas” just as Mujibar got to the microphone. Thinking this was his word, he started as the judges were giving him his word. Seizing the opportunity to end it…judge one woke up judge three who red lighted poor Mujibar, ending his run at spelling immortality. “Sorry son, you tried, but, today a Mujibar lost and a B.J won.”. Before he tried to correct himself, knowing what he had just said didn’t sound quite right, Miss Flume congratulated both finalists and began the award presentations.



Thankfully, next year the eighty eighth version of The Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee will be in the other county. Now the job of sorting out the cell phones in the orange basket begins. By the way, Betty Jo Willin had a boy …you can just guess what she named it!

Nothing these days is truly failsafe.
You buy some Ultrathins and the babies might win,
even the Trojan horse had issues for the boys of Troy.
Fancy ribbed models can end up in shreds
& I've seen the reservoir tips burst.
But if you're still ***** & thirst for safe ***,
you should try different combinations
of tubed-latex along with 'the pill'
dispensed from
the fancy circular monthly-packages.
That's your best bet,
your best chance of survival.
If anything, don't be a dinosaur
thinking your living Jurassic,
this is about being prophylactic
'cause nobody knows
what killed those ornery
unprotected beasts.
The experts believe,
it was probably
a rare disease
that got 'em.

I
take
my
Prophylactic's
everywhere
I
take
my
*****.
-

The reason there aren't so many vampyres
around these days is they don't like TV hype
and the intrusions of TV news crews. It transpires
that vampyres prefer late hours and like low light levels
because they're egregarious and don't like to be seen inebrious
in the middle of their heinous, intravenous revels.
Also, unfavorable reviews about transfusions
and the confusion caused by AIDS, at this juncture,
has definitely reduced the appeal of being seduced
by some crazed and gurgling Transylvanian
bloodsucker lusting to puncture the jugular,
or any other available vein again,
especially when you don't know if they've disinfected their fangs
or only licked them after draining their last victim.

After all, vampyres were brought up in castles
when there weren't antiseptics for gargles
and they haven't been taught prophylactic criteria
against such apocalyptic viral bacteria.
And if you've ever seen vampyres with condoms
on their teeth, you'll know what I mean.  
It's a scream. Everyone finds them hilarious. It'd be easier
to die laughing than to go down with anemia.
Also, like everyone else, vampyres hate ridicule.
No-one likes being seen as the fool.
  
And the other reason vampyres are scarce now
is that there are so many genuine muggers, hoods, crims,
druggies, financial leeches, homicidal maniacs,
psychopathic liars and genocidal tendencies to conjure up real fears
out there, that there's not much room left for quaint old-fashioned vampyres, poor dears.  

But do you know something? Even though they were naughty,
I miss their occasional ****. I know it was gory,
but those kisses, oh boy. We got into the femoral artery inside the thigh. It was *****. But when AIDs came along,
that was it.  Definitely bye-bye. Nobody wanted to die.  
These are the facts.  
So these vampyres were starving and they reverted to bats.  
Did a midnight flit,
and that's the end of my story.

I don't care about procreation
To increase our population
I just want some copulation
Some vaginal stimulation
Simple genital integration
There ain't no rationalisation
For my urge for satisfaction
In my lower region location
I'm pushing the realisation
That with the physicalisation
Of the ******* sensation
Is the only stipulation
Pushing the physical activation
Of ****** gratification

I am hot with the seduction
So no more procrastination
We have all the education
To perform this fornication
Without meaning or relation
I'm not looking for affection
Or a long term infatuation
It's just a simple invitation
To engage in ****** deviation
The heated manifestation
Of a physical altercation
Without an ulterior motivation
With not a single ramification
Just ****** gratification

Of course we'll use protection
I'm not looking for infection
Don't wanna have an inspection
Followed by a painful injection
Ive a straight up expectation
That you stick your big *******
In a prophylactic invention
Stopping all types of creation
We have built up the anticipation
And my wetness is an indication
That I'm ready for connection
I want some ******* action
No mental manipulation
Only ****** gratification

I used to be used to being used.
Best be used to it
again

Who we think we are, if we fail to define our own terminii,
Meum et Tuum, as we are, if we take full consideration

of our pose, relative, to the point of you, on which your
homeostasis hangs by the thread of sense we share
in mindspace dominated by English, no longer,

I can read poetry in Hausa, like a native born earthling,
after Hiroshima and before the peak radiation winds,
in the season of Maris and Mantle, and
The Days of Wine and Roses, and
social influencers promoting actual
bowling leagues,

"Lake Charles Calculators
facing off against Texas City Lo-rollers,"
- in the novel, the summer of '61, unshipped.

when this version of America, as remembered on TV,

shall never before
be gotten but by the free and brave, trusting geology,
can prove we all know
if hell breaks loose,
we all die, but the earth is resilient,

As Kritias recited all he knew
of what the lawgiver said of the reproof
he humbly received as a Sais priestly
admonishment to learn to hold
thoughts secure for disasters
are considerably common

"– all such events are recorded since the old days
and are preserved here in our temples.
Yet your people and
the others are but newly equipped, every time,
with letters and all such arts as civilized cities require
and when,
after the usual interval
of years, like a plague, the flood
from heaven comes sweeping down again
upon your people, it leaves none of you but
the unlettered and uncultured.
So you become as young as ever,
with no knowledge
of all that happened
in old times
in this land or in your own." Plato, Timaeus
_
remember, we once believed in giants,
then we learned of dinosaurs,
then we saw whales cry.

They wept for the loss of the cod.

Then we got the internet of things,
and things developed was to solve

the original division using co-op gnosis,

we see our follies on YouTube, and realize
we have abilities, should we agree, we never

lie, but do know of instances, when unbelieving
worked wonders while lying about waiting
for this exposure
to your final frontal lobe
remyelinating, to offset dementia.

It's a prophylactic tactic peace of mind allows.

There's a girl I think about, sometimes
On wet afternoons, and when I'm on my own
Well, she's an older woman now but still a first affection
With a family, grown to middle age
And a dead husband in her past, somewhere.

We knew each other forty years ago, perhaps
In an army town; or was it slightly later?
We were never intimately joined
In those prophylactic, pre-pill times
And the frowning fathers, narrow-eyed on the fringes

She could drive, and had her mothers car that day
We slunk out to a field, to dispose of her virginity
But, the military fuzz they quickly found us
And took us in to the local station
Heart thumping, testosterone levels tumbling

That was the last time that we met, I think.
We corresponded fitfully, and for a short time after
But somehow shame and not a little guilt
At what I'd done and left undone, sputtered the phrases and
Quite soon the letters stopped arriving.

Unconsummated but never quite forgotten, last week
A Facebook message in my in-box, unbidden
From a name unfamiliar to me, and suspicious
"Dear Sir" it read, and proceeded to announce itself
Auspicious, as my former lovers son.

Can this be you? the lovers son enquired politely
My mothers friend that we talked about at Christmas?
Triumphant, there mother! I have found him
Far across the years and using now's technology
Across a lifetime of separateness

I sensed in her a broad reluctance, despite the introduction
From her child, who's person never was a factor
To connect with me again, this different person
Risking the diminution of that dimmed image, the remnant
Of who we had been that time

And why not? Why confuse the layers and the generations?
The forewarned spectacle of our sad reunion
Uncomfortably eye-ing each other with little left in common
Awkward unsaid phrases hanging out to dry
In the flag-fluttering breezes of our allusions.

But, in fact, there had been another reason I admit
For shame that final hour that final day
When I had been revealed in all my nakedness as wanting
Tongue tied and mumbling my excuses to the sky
Youth I was, weak, poor and unconvincing

The police were brusque and thoroughly impersonal
Growled deep-throated at my love and I.
And I; I discarded my affection for security and left her there
Disconsolate and disbelieving in the police station
More worried about the facing of my father

And so we left it then last week with little left unsaid
Knowing both it was too late and too unknown
For reintroductions as the people we had been
Unconvincing in our bright and sharpened protestations
Preferring poor relations in a foreign country

There's a girl I think about, sometimes
On wet afternoons, and when I'm on my own
Well, she's an older woman now but still a first affection
With a family, grown to middle age
And a dead husband in her past, somewhere.

We knew each other forty years ago, perhaps
In an army town; or was it slightly later?
We were never intimately joined
In those prophylactic, pre-pill times
And the frowning fathers, narrow-eyed on the fringes

She could drive, and had her mothers car that day
We slunk out to a field, to dispose of her virginity
But, the military fuzz they quickly found us
And took us in to the local station
Heart thumping, testosterone levels tumbling

That was the last time that we met, I think.
We corresponded fitfully, and for a short time after
But somehow shame and not a little guilt
At what I'd done and left undone, sputtered the phrases and
Quite soon the letters stopped arriving.

Unconsummated but never quite forgotten, last week
A Facebook message in my in-box, unbidden
From a name unfamiliar to me, and suspicious
"Dear Sir" it read, and proceeded to announce itself
Auspicious, as my former lovers son.

Can this be you? the lovers son enquired politely
My mothers friend that we talked about at Christmas?
Triumphant, there mother! I have found him
Far across the years and using now's technology
Across a lifetime of separateness

I sensed in her a broad reluctance, despite the introduction
From her child, who's person never was a factor
To connect with me again, this different person
Risking the diminution of that dimmed image, the remnant
Of who we had been that time

And why not? Why confuse the layers and the generations?
The forewarned spectacle of our sad reunion
Uncomfortably eye-ing each other with little left in common
Awkward unsaid phrases hanging out to dry
In the flag-fluttering breezes of our allusions.

But, in fact, there had been another reason I admit
For shame that final hour that final day
When I had been revealed in all my nakedness as wanting
Tongue tied and mumbling my excuses to the sky
Youth I was, weak, poor and unconvincing

The police were brusque and thoroughly impersonal
Growled deep-throated at my love and I.
And I; I discarded my affection for security and left her there
Disconsolate and disbelieving in the police station
More worried about the facing of my father

And so we left it then last week with little left unsaid
Knowing both it was too late and too unknown
For reintroductions as the people we had been
Unconvincing in our bright and sharpened protestations
Preferring poor relations in a foreign country

Bounce-back emails,
unanswered texts
& you've closed
your account
& it hurts,
claiming
you
know pain.

Yeah, right.

I wear a layer of
protection
'tween reality and
fantasy
like a prophylactic
fence against STD's.
Sometimes
out of need I stick things out
from the need to breathe,
free
from Societal Transmitted Disease.
******* a need
and to stop my ***** from going to seed
I wear a body ******.
sometimes it is hard to breathe.
But, I wrap it up!

The unexpected snow, disruptive,
in ways more burdensome,
than mere fender benders and
swapping travelogue commutation miseries

ah, the tv reporters regale
with snow tales, human fails,
but where do you hear
of the children
burnt once by fire
then again, now,
again!
burnt by snow.

here, hear, listen here

technology moves forward,
grafting new shells of skin
on burnt children,
but tonite you're cozy thinking
of your valentine's heart,
not of the little ones,
whose hearts are unprotected,
by what we take so for granted

beneath our protective gloves and coats, scarfs and boots,
our prophylactic human skin,
theirs, fire ravaged,
now re-hazardous,
by southern snows burning

these children hurt,
unexpectedly,
cannot play in the snow that came so
unexpectedly,
lest it burn them worse*

"in the children's burn unit, postponed all surgeries except 'emergency'.  Two days of outpatient clinic patients forced to reschedule,. That then, postpones their surgeries, second step grafting, etc. Our vents ran smoothly I heard via the generators, unlike last outage. We had to ambulance each individual patient.

I dread going in tomorrow but small comfort,
it will be warmer than my cold home."

Life first, poetry second

It'll all be over in about eight minutes,
Give or take, depending on your side of the Earth,
Plasma therapy for the masses.
Just like that, we're all crispy critters,
Pork rind skins flavored with dehydrated sea-salt.
That beautiful aurora-generating magnetosphere,
Shrinking daily, as the planet's poles reverse,
Will puncture like a too thin prophylactic.
The Christians will have just minutes,
Reminding us that we were prophesized
To all go out in fire and overlooking
That we're actually being ionized with radiation ---
A mere trifle to the True-Believers.
Will the Dow-Jones sell off in those final moments?
Will the Russians attempt to launch a Soyuz?
The Brits will take it all in stride with another pint;
Aussies venture on their final walkabout.
As for me, I'm gonna saddle up a pony
heading straight out to greet the Joshua trees.
I want to meet annihilation on my own terms.

Put past
The pretence of protection.
Propagandising
her preciousness
is prohibited -
proprietorial
preparation
for *******.
Parents paw
the pretty pretty
Pa approves the partner
partner plucks the petals,
proclaiming
‘She pleases me,
pleases me not’ -
matters not one jot.
Pet and preen
her perilous perfection
a prophylactic
precaution,
in place
of progression,
promotion,
professional appreciation.
Proud paternalistic patter
imprisons.
Presidents pronounce
on *****,
parroted by ******
and pissheads.
Petty, pathetic
and petrified
of power,
placing people
in parentheses
participating
in playground politics.

I’m sick
that this
paralysis
persists.
Past to present,
passed down
passed over
passed off
as perfectly
practical, natural,
a place for everyone
everyone
in place.
Please.

Parade our pride
in pyrotechnic protest
in partnership perpetual,
productive, progressive
people
as people
as people,

powerful
and equal.

Today it's the rusty pine needles
flecking the tar covered street
and pointing every which way
that signal a new season
soon will cool my morning walk.
Hidden alongside the curb
a coke can and pale spent prophylactic
trigger memories of front seat
romances that never erupted.
Luckily I didn't know then
what I know now.  I would have
wasted more of what I had been given
trying in earnest to waste
more of what I had been given.

Big Mistake* can even barely describe how I let you goad me into coming back to your hovel and how you had to clear a path to your bedroom door all the while giving me such a goofy grin. Unfortunately (for me) your flat mate was passed out naked on the sofa with an empty long neck between their legs, snoring a sonata that would have made Frank Sinatra proud, I don't know how to describe the incredible feelings of vile that I experienced. Where do I begin?

I was so pleased to see the mattress on the floor in the corner of your bedroom that I just literally wet myself (don't mistake that for desire) and as you gently lowered me to the floor (honestly, who lives without bed frames) and I felt something crawl across my foot I fervently wished that we were higher. The drugs I took in the club are starting to wear off and I'm even more exacting sober (I wish I hadn't tucked into my handbag an extra pair of ******* and packed some antibacterial wash to take away what would be left over)

"Wait" I cried as your arms seemed to grow 3 extra hands and you tried so hard to get me even more naked than the day I was born. "Protection? Do you have it" and as you looked at me like I was an alien and an extra head I had just spawned, you went out the door on a prophylactic journey that I was sure (looking at your house mate) would last almost till the dawn.

I took the time to glance though your extensive collection of ******* that you didn't seem to feel that you needed to hide and took a chance of learning a thing or two, that you may like, and stacked them in a neat pile to the side. The sheets that floated on your love bed were just a little to crusty for my taste. I don't really want to lay on top of every other lover that you've had in the last year and quickly removed them with some haste (the mattress underneath was another matter) by then I'm starting to think that we should move to the couch and invite naked Mr Longneck to the party just so I don't have to lay down on something so crusty that at the slightest touch would probably shatter.

sigh I'm here now I say to myself 'Take a bow, you've certainly outdone yourself by raising the stakes so high that even a snake crawling on their belly couldn't miss' so I try to make the most of it and remove my shirt (leaving the bra... it's an imagination thing) and try to arrange myself seductively on my coat I laid on the mattress and await for the first heated kiss

You loom in the doorway with a smile that promises that the hunt was a success and lope towards me with a gait of a predator that is ready to eat a succulent meal that your not prepared to undress. One hand reaches out to skim the lace of my bra as your eyes scoot toward the organized pile of magazines in the corner and you spy Miss July on top from afar and in an instant in between a muted groan and a world that is rocked and only occupied by you alone, with just a ***** and one peep I'm left gobsmacked and your fast asleep!

Yes, I left a phone number,
No, it wasn't mine.
Please by all means, use it but try not to tie up LifeLine!
Jan 22

The prophylactic coolth you shed when in your girth,
My troubles, my angst, my qualms go vicariously submerged.
Oh you miraculous body of ineffable wonderment,
How you cleanse my body, my soul so pure, only you understand.

You take the spirit off my body and fly it like a balanced kite,
Your water, tiding and ebbing, hoists me up above an unfathomable height.
Birds see me fly at a height they can never desire,
Burnt in envy they wonder how he basks so, what a privileged flier.

I look down to see how you tranced my corporeal abode,
It's poised, lost in you, my eyes, my brain shut close.
The Azure of yours swallowing all my murky blues,
My lips gradually widening and my hands suddenly arose.

The Panorama cloistered by the earth with its assent,
The planets, the Stars, the Sun ceased their celestial movement.
The Aurora cropped up donned its best attire,
A sprig of thunder appeared, and conched the desire.

Blarnask-A feeble-minded joke that elicits cackles from dumb people
Rentgourge-To be surrounded by people that manipulate you especially for harms sake
Ritonique- The audiovisual sabotage of clarity by mind-numbing subliminal technology
Rallendork-Someone persecuted because of political gamesmanship before an election
Regnongell-A normative fear that is provocative of regress instituted by cultural conformity to debauched ideas arising from pedigree
Blaskerg- henpeck affectionately at some desire whether personal or relational
Whink- a covert attempt at seeding chaos that benefits one tribe more than the others
Allonker- an idea that is hoisted as popular only because of mediagenic creation which is in fact highly inflated but still has efficacy of determent or enlistment to a flagging cause
Warspark-to provoke lewd riots to engineer hatred
Dralley- a disreputable person that earns a pass by moral docimasy because his or her life is opaque
Wramplizer- someone who outstretches their moral virtue as a badge of honor only to be greeted by exsibilation because of prejudice that works counter to that moral pedigree
Flabbernounce-to gabble an entreaty that is otiose because it defies pragmatic logic too much
Rettonkle- to impose manipulative conditions as stipulated by froward formant demands to impose clarity over confusion even when a pretense such as this is not tolerated by many
Ellambore- the sacrilege of sacrificing a useful person or strategy to relinquish any appearance of ignoble intent when something becomes poisoned by association alone.
Lickerstein- a contrarian genius isolated because of knowledge of controversies dismantled by the witticisms of concealment
Revalsion- a temptress of opinionated people to conceal their true mettle in order to seem weak or manageable to manipulate their superiors into more justifiable treatment (Suppression of vocal intellect to gain job stature)
Qurathe- the inarticulate rejection of a creed, person or ideology based on prima facie observation or cursory observation
Wraster-To wrangle with timberlask disasters with poise rather than cowardice as in sensation-seeking that is dangerous but yields great rewards
Elkoove- The dormant nature of peaceful animals who like the attention of human companions but simultaneous feel alien to us and thereby withdrawn
Tinjowl- a rapid seed of malcontent that develops when heresiarchs exert too much sway over the commonplace blockbuster and ingeminate evil traits as exemplary paragons to be followed without slippage
Slaverners- slaves blind to their own reflection or free of conscience about commiting heinous violent crimes because they never consider the consequences beforehand or even afterwards
Wreffalaxity- a state where intermediary representatives incur little damage for overseeing federalese they didn’t write because the opaque nature of the government absolves them from any malefaction and thereby leads to lenient public opinions even about incumbents
Tregounce- bartering with the margins of stupidity forever estranged by the periphery of consideration to belittle them with patronage which reinforces redominage and stultifies societal change as dangerous to keep the status quo at bay by spotlighting irrelevant issues of strife to diminish the whittled down spearhead of invective
Delanvey- a cartoonish complicit foofaraw in a bipartisan government designed to reduce the fortunes of the deliberate action of self-sabotage to help the component gain leverage over the vote to a greater degree
Wrapkilt- the exultation of shibboleth as an aswallone gamesmanship that is diminutive to other religions, creeds and races because the specious believe of differing birthrights grants power to that fringe
Slimpontune- the tendency worldwide for people to neglect musical lyrics in popular music because time shelters its own destiny by being reserved only for the attentive ear of masonic subservience to the grand plot and a state of the universe to preclude the popularity of mention of future events to a standstill while invoking antecedent properties that pivot off of the reverse phenomena.
Waretreen- manufacture even in destruction negligent of environmental conservation
Yettle- a match between the mettle of character and the expectancy of outcomes outsized to fit between the lines of history and destiny
Groterk-The gross termination of kinship through estrangement that relies on technological paralysis to diminish the common sphere of the nuclear family
Wallcreak- a prodrome that a prophylactic system against any maleficence is riddled with visible elements of skullduggery reprehensible for those who watch even with guarded banausic purpose
Jopeyainge- a prolific adversary armed with persiflage that is also your friend because he entertains a crowd with raconteur wit
Flowder- the vicious cycle of cartel violence that depends on a high velocity of money at a high risk premium which endangers civil society
Drampover- The histrionic recursive irony that the most maudlin members of society are the most susceptible to popular verdicts rather than maintaining a core anonymity which eventually culminates in a foofaraw society where the aberration is celebrated as the exemplar rather than the disreputable outlier
Affloresce-To grow in fame in a manner that upholds integrity to God but not necessarily the Law that lead
Witchbloke- someone who bloviates about the grimgoire and the taghairm because of an unsteady superstition in the specious dark arts that is mocked at because his rudimentary allegiance the invisible is both pagan and turgid
Escorrhagy- The phenomena of transplanting primal conditions upon civilized people and expecting them to thrive without experience at the casualty of the people exposed but not indemnified from consequences
Cavelletto- a swift fleet of mobilized military personnel that are discharged from normal bounds of duty to exact vengeance in vigilante justice and practice roguery because they get away with it
Treeflow- the endless recursive cycle of harvesting the Earth for financial gain in an unsustainable way that favors the freebooters rather than otherwise.
Nockerslug- an invidious cyberattack aimed at one person who resembles a dignitary or whoever has credentials intermediary to that luminary
Griddorean- that mapping of spacetime which prizes current conditions above future conditions and appraises the behavior of minor particles above all else.
Imporchurge- the compound celebrity backing behind an ideology or position on the political spectrum which might be fractionated but identifiable on the spectrum of considerations as inhabiting a coherent sphere adjacent to other spheres
Yoppyhead- a profoundly sensitive person that gets overlooked by society who is fickle in decision-making that usually isn’t very astute and therefore prone to the ravages of instinct bulldozing ambition
Profingerine- The march to the oblivion of the ineluctable truth that the tittup of the sardanapalian crowd or any other group of perdition and seditious simultaneously will lollop the final destiny upon the intermediary stages of arrayed tolerance for encroaching evil
Retorminity- the capacity of one entity to enhance the size of his impact on the carbon footprint by exigent action or the weight of the shadow of titans
Filagersion- The overall footprint exercised by a person of authority of subsidiary authority that has the capacity to magnetizes and motivate a captive audience to commit proactive deeds
Versamily- the natural good fortune that comes from pancratic mastery of affairs
Scrongifical- Very precise at ****** emulation with high emotional mastery of deliberate aplomb in taxing situations
Anomalesque- A rare pedigree that shows no marginal weaknesses in the overall constitution of character that refines brittle people into magistrates
Wrask- to risk rashness to prove the lucidity of the stranglehold of contemplation above the retches that sour with hackumber to the resilience of comparsion
Tilkongue- The overall barometer of acting flexibility combined with photogenic appeal that buoys the actor into a suitable situation of leverage and finesse over the industry.
Elangownage- The ability clothes have to make people appear more photogenic or less photogenic depending on the color, size and makeup of the costume
Slimpergerence- The availability of a person to attend to responsibility hinging upon his motivation to catapult above the esoteric fray the resorted asylum of the propriety of long-lived generativity and reninjuble characteristics that ensure livid vitality to invigorate audiences rather than bore them
Stiltanimity- The oversolemn decorum of those whose entire professions depend on sacerdotal appearances that strangulates vibrant creativity because of the imperative humility required by people like the Pope to be restrained in festivity and slightly too moderate on moral extravagance
Succorrhea- The earnest entreaty of enslaved or understated figures to rise to prominence enough to earn the respectful discharge of their submission to earn an honest keepsake of mobility beyond derangement
Kanyeance- the free-spirited rodomontade of success flexed to a pinnacle of pride above the frazzled delusions that sink ships but flexible in posture to pander to crowds about controversy without recoiling into normative statures because of a belief in integrity above dramaturgy
Swiftmanger- the betrayal of cantabanks from stages of exaltation to the faltering complicity of investment in schemes that are dishonorable that betray vicarious friendships because of vested interests in profligacy above the serenade of virtuosity
Alpononetial- the swift gainsay of a nimble creative ****** to mobilize people in growing numbers that cause the snowball effect especially when applied to religious affairs that don’t rely on grounded grandstands but more on moral integrity
Quincetownage- The petty leverage of epithets to derail an upstart man from his true ambitions because of embedded  envy that catalyzes an uproarious distraction of hatred rather than an embalming love that lasts forever
Recuddle- to invent a farsighted song to embrace a farsighted destiny directed with affection to both establish the pedigree of the songwriter and establish the dignity of self-reference in magnified acclaim
Overblow- the ability to scintillate with magnified attention that suits a higher audience than the demotic temperament allows to amporge with titans rather than sulk in brooded pettifoggery common to politicians
Wambreach- the disclosure whether partial or full to allegiance to an unpopular ideology because of deep-seated convictions that run a countercurrent to the oleaginous rhetoric of demassified convenience and a stake in radical deformation of integral virtues
Flickow- to audition for a role in a company or a stature in society when you are swimming with tough competition and yet still maintain an advantage as the biggest fish in a pond with many big fish
Flamber- to exude the preened plumage of excellency that showcases a pancratic regard to amaze talented bastions with emulations of hortoriginality already catapulted into center stage but lacking the grit of officialism of compromise necessary to cadge the motatory majority of mouchards
Reechowl- the facetious lies of the majoritarian sculpture of the human psyche that deserve glowering recompense because they belittle human virtues and stake everything on attenuated virtuosity of a stalemate compromise to uphold the hackneyed lowest common denominator to a stage earned by pedigree that verges on laziness because of treacle
Thunderlust- the peremptory catalyst to pedigree that touts ****** conquest as a badge of honor that is overweening in its ability to proselytize people to the notions of ****** profligacy seen as a virtue rather than a hamartia based on the pedigree and pulchritude of the dating scene you captured
Flampy- weak in acting ability despite high honors of success/ Acharismatic because of a soberminded serious disposition that is rarely rattled but even more rarely ebullient
Krageon- the ability to harness the motivations of the enraged into prolific proactive action that actually becomes a contagion in society rather than a slimmerback of vocal dissent not gravitated towards any outcome but the ludic ventilation of the disarmed rampages of free spirit
Kraginkle- the ability to harness rage to lead to violent reprisals that are characterized primarily by bellicose demonstration that leads nowhere and inefficently stewards society to a compromised position of succor rather than a self-motivated bootstrap into grandeur
Flamdagger- the comparison of one person’s photogenic appeal to another done purely in jest so that a rectiserial organization of prestige can be predicated on pulchritude that depends on the overal physiognomy but specializes in ****** carves that provide the lineaments for the handsome and the winsome celebrity of acclaim
Grombang- a short-lived burst of ****** charisma that is so charming and winsome it achieves great efficacy in sustaining short-term appearances of mystery that galvanize ****** appeal
Grombangor- someone who is naturally rambunctious and skilled at flirtation that has a chance with the vast majority of women because he combines a flair of charm with good looks propped up by intellectual sufficiency to match the wiseacres of elitism needed to clamber to rundles of prestige in dating
Eskalatron- the ability of economies of scale to combine with economies of scope to minimize the liabilities of debt leverage and optimize the public prospectus of rampant forerunners to prosperity
Weednangy- a tolerance for Marijuana smoking if done only occasionally and done with modesty of dosage rather than the plunge into succedaneum of narquiddity
Swampbloat- the rigmarole that enhances government control and centralization based on federalese impenetrable to outrage because of crafty diversions that eventually trample on the principles of Democratic Republic
Fizzgragger- someone who swims in an ocean of attention but manicured for subsidiary roles that are the rites of passage to someone deserving a promotion but begrudged because of impediments to the compromises of nominalism and capitalism
Flavormasque- exuding so much charm that people forget your stature and invest in your upstart vibrant character despite the disdain of the naysayers among an oppositive crowd with enough leverage to traindeque the sluggish into acquiescence of appeal
Pandemble- a complicit arrangement where the praise of one luminary results in the luminary being praised to be amenable to issues of discord and overlook travesties in their fiduciary obligation to create a recursive cycle of allegiance embedded in character even when there might be mismatches in ideology in some respects
Axiolative- the conceptual ability to turn axioms into monuments of  creative triumph that supersede crudity with elegance while in the process inseminating the fluminous streams of those with wit and ingenuity to follow your example to create evolved axioms siphoned through the lavaderos of slimmerback
Repugnasket- a pornographic film or picture that deserves comstockery because it perverts the sanctity of the youth to have proper opinions about *** rather than outmoded debaucheries that fetch the niche appeal of ******* but contaminate the world with lewd excess
Wrabble- the highest spiritual praise earned by a combination of moral fervor, prophetic insight, mutual harmony and a conclave of the elect praising moral valence with adoration of vicarious charms leading to power and friendship
Renegasconade- the arrogance of people that believe in the nulliverse scoffing at the opinions of even lettered religious men because the thanatism of death scares them more than the sanctity of life preserved sustains their lacking moral virtue
Fringorge- the gulfs of opinion that separate people with radical axioms from people with normative virtues that has the capacity to appeal speciously to the epicurean manicures of some pedigree but has an overall bumptious affect on vast majorities of people bolted to a different model of inspiration
Magnihemption- forgiving righteous people who are sensation-seeking because they obey all the other tenets of religious law that are worthy of praise and using kind castigation rather than strong deplorable invective to mold people slowly away from overindulgence or verboten indulgence
Skillamination- the pancratic summit that evaluates all skills owned by a person or a group of people and then quantulates the degree of their roundedness to implement action rather than lull into acquiescent debasement
Scravengeance- the fulmination of envy to turn people against each other because of a lacking talent that provokes insecurity that transmutes into vile dishonesty and slander that results from inferiority complexes that seek to dismantle the edifice of the successful because of a regress of the weak
Nazemotor- the improper direction of propaganda to lead to persecution based on superficial dissonances between racial groups that runs contrary to the gallop of egalitarian motions that sustain the brunt of moral support
Marxallenger- a radical ideology of communism in the eventual culmination of affairs that hides with maskirovka its evil idolatry because it is indifferent to religious scruples of contention.
Earnshomp- a wasteful extravagance of temporary wealth to earn temporary pedigree among the audience of  bachelors and bachelorettes to maintain an unsustainable lifestyle
Preenjury- a diminished reputation earned by a mismatch between effort and completion leading to dismal appropriations of convenience.
Anvilpsychompism- The cartoonish caricature of primeval psychology maladusted to modern thrusts of cultural temperament to put the weight of burdens on the wrong lineaments leading to a dismissive verdict of decisive weight in diagnosis
Flawgraggle- The obsession with the faults of people rather than a celebration of their virtues based on a snide disdain for their political affiliation and nothing else
Ebosculate- to foment confusion incidentally in an attempt to swoon persnickety audiences with emulations of belletrist that alienate societies rather than redintegrate them

From all around the silent sound of shadow
casts doubts, suspicion and danger, obscures the way to change.
Silent the sound yet still we flee in flight to fight the shadows    
of some supposed specter.           
White picket the sword, self-righteous the shield,          
to fend off the foe we wield.

What is this diminisher of hope and limiter of all victories gained,
that holds diminuendo till silent the hope fades away?

It grips the spirit in restrain and defeats more wonders than we will know.
Awareness, the armor against this phantasm’s game.        
All fear, but most fear change.
It is how it has always been; it is how we’ve always done:
senseless solace to safely slumber in, content, unaware of newborn’s hope,
assuaged, eyes closed, diminished once again.
In stealth through whispering wires, silent whistles on the air transept
Now Signal fears . . . of fear itself --- Great words, once meant to transcend                            
The seed of fear implanted, vilest of all sleight of hand.
Phantom fear fed the flame that forged mock yellow cake.  
The way we fed and raged on cue! In fear we were led again.  


Blood drained, gold gained . . . bow ye by loathsome men.
Now behind the wall we are fed again.    
Placebo, prophylactic farce we pretend–now safe from–them?
Demons o’er all the doors–alas, fear’s chain remains.
Fear’s vile serpent’s chore complete;
its hiss remains; we cannot change.
“’Twas ever thus, ‘twas ever thusss”
Forevermore our sad refrain?
  
In a shadow in a cage,
old things pass away,
and new things become new along the way.

the whip cracked across my cheek
back i staggered faint and weak
couldn't answer, couldn't speak
little knew the havoc t'would wreak

as for him, i'm sure
he'd think nothing more
of scar with no cure
i'd for life endure

he thought it didactic,
part of art and tactic,
which made it more tragic
the henceforth prophylactic

against all emotion
a rhinoceros' hide
that he'd set in motion
leaving me inside

raw to to the touch
in constant clutch
aquiver in hutch
a broken crutch