When I was younger, I read something that said
If you’re going to bail, bail early
And it made sense, so I became a quitter who gave up easily;
When my dad finally left my mom, I told him that
If you’re going to bail, you should have bailed earlier.

Years later, when I met a boy,
I hated myself a lot. And I warned him.
He did not seem to mind loving a broken girl,
Even someone who decided to quit so often.
I decided to not give this up.
And on my darkest nights, I told him,
If you’re going to bail, then bail.

I guess it wasn’t fair of me, to make him promise to stay.
So everyone so often, I’d tell him:
If you’re going to bail, then bail.
But he refused to, he wouldn’t bail.
Yet he gave up in every other way,
That every time I said it to him,
I was actually begging him
If you’re going to bail, then please just bail.

And 3 years later, I felt weak and still broken.
I had learned that love can’t fix your soul,
But even still weak, I felt strong enough
To tell myself it was okay, that
If you’re going to bail, it is okay to bail.

6 months later, I still wish I could tell him
It was right for me to bail
And all these feelings inside my chest
Are normal. Because I begged him to leave me
So many times and he refused just to
Not love me in the right ways.
And I’ve only told the new boy once,
And he refuses too, but he loves me more
Intensely so that I tell myself
*If you’re going to bail, don’t bail.

Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her
body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some
said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To
the men she was simply a *** machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not.
And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it
came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.
Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass
had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when
people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them.
Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous
of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't
make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called
handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on
their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no
insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some
call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the
girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had
been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and
Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending
herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar
rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End
Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of
the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the
ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.
"Drink?" I asked.
"Sure, why not?"
I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was
simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No
pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of
age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each
time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She
was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had
ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.
"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your
looks..."
"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm
pretty?"
"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."
Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She
came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through
her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me
and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled
the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the
bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:
"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need
your dramatics here."
"Oh, *******, man!" she said.
"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.
"She'll be all right," I said.
"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."
"No," I said, "it hurts me."
"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"
"Yes, it does, I mean it."
"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."
She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her
nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It
was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She
gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of
wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man,
something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and
after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,
"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"
"In the morning," I said and turned my back.
In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She
laughed.
"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."
"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."
"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."
Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long
black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her
body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.
"Come on, lover man."
I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body,
through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to
make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.
I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but
she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and
read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.
"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something
to cover that thing with, nature boy."
She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.
"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"
"I knew."
Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she
seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights
she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.
"These sons of *******," she said, "just because they buy you a few
drinks they think they can get into your pants."
"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."
"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."
"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see
beyond your body."
I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but
we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i
figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when
she walked in and sat down next to me.
"Well, *******, I see you've come back."
I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had
never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass
heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into
her face.
"******* you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"
"No, it's the fad, you fool."
"You're crazy."
"I've missed you," she said.
"Is there anybody else?"
"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But
you get it free."
"Pull those pins out."
"No, it's the fad."
"It's making me very unhappy."
"Are you sure?"
"Hell yes, I'm sure."
Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.
"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with
it?"
"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You
don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for
something else."
"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."
"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating
face."
"Thanks."
We had another drink.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."
"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."
"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's
wearing."
"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."
We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful
woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of
wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would
listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed
to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh-
only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and
moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that
Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat.
It was large and thick.
"******* you, woman," I said from the bed, "******* you, what have you
done?
"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still
beautiful?"
I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some
men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very
funny."
"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, *****, I love you...stop
destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."
We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black
hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and
wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and
happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over
and shook me,
"Up, *******! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the
feast!"
I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were
splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on
stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old
ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left
behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all,
there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say
much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and
drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an
hour. It was somehow better than *******. There was flowing together without tension.
When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested
to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly
said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I
found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to
working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End
Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender
said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"
"No."
"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."
"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at
any moment. How could she be gone?
"Her sisters buried her."
"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"
"She cut her throat."
"I see. Give me another drink."
I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most
beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have
insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her
had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too
unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up
and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town
was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and
persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "******* YOU, YOU *******
,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.

It's my birthday and this year I turn ten
It's my birthday and this year I turn ten
It's my birthday and this year I turn ten
Gonna have a party and invite over all 'o my friends

It's my birthday and Papa's in the cooler again
It's my birthday and Papa's in the cooler again
It's my birthday and Papa's in the cooler again
Gonna use my birthday cash to bail him out again

Mamma says no matter, I should love my dad
Mamma says no matter, I should love my dad
Mamma says no matter, I should love my dad
I already think he's the best I could'a had

It's my birthday and Papa's in the cooler again
It's my birthday and Papa's in the cooler again
It's my birthday and Papa's in the cooler again
Gonna use my birthday cash to bail him out again

When we paid the bail, gonna walk up on a snitch
When we paid the bail, gonna walk up on a snitch
When we paid the bail, gonna walk up on a snitch
Snag him in a snag, we're gonna hitch him to a hitch

Haberdashery hauberk harbinger harangue equilibrist, harpy harsh hast severities.
Inane inert inertia innate, juxtaposition maenad ethos affinities.
Putrid quasi queasy pathos, emanate imminent perdition acerbities.

Agnate aggregate anathema android amalgamated, predication contract.
Glutton paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts.
Ambidextrous amatory prelude amaze, analeptic adrenergic analgesia analytics extract.  Annex annul.  

Clairaudience clairvoyant omnipresence presage, omnipotent omnificent omniscience.
Pantheism parapet paradigm intuition, prognosticating prosthesis prediction.
Prolific profuseness profundity prosaic, nimbus nimiety nitty gritty, intrados rubato.

Venerable divinatory deity deify veneration, delineate demagoguery ecstasy, agonist agog.
Dream gleam cream seam beam team, serene ravine green gene careen, obscene demean.
Empiricise the existentialisms in the demagoguery of godhead aspiration.
Corporeal anaclitic apex inveterate embezzlement extroversion, acuity alacrity extortion.
Extraneous extemporaneous, ominous phenomena portrayal spontaneous synchronous, aorist actuator.

Endergonic protensive integration extrapolation interpolations investiture elicits.
Scenario synopsis synthesis syncopation, harmony rhymes rhythm.
Synchronous transition transposition interlude, summerial derivation cognition.
                                                      ­­­                                                               ­ ­ ­              
Irk-ness ire aerie altruism allegorical, autonomous avarice oscillating ostracism.
Pandemonium obdurate temerity impunity, impending preponderance onus, numinous illuminism quintessential frolic.
Amorous ardent argent arduous enamor endear, plenary putschist volatile phatic.
Conveyor controvert deft mesmeric deification deist dissertation.
Drastic premise portent pervasive embellish, elusive enhance enchant, engender enthrall.
Perpetuation euphenic euthenics, exude emote concoct recalcitrance regalia, irrefragable preternatural ne plus ultra prurient.
Vernaculars opulent myriad, aesthetic stratagem venial vexatious, astral projection conjuring levity apothegms.

Incite epistemological illuminism, accoutrements umbrage ultraism incognito trajectory extant.
Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive, heuristic manumission exigency.
Ostensible proclivity prodigious querulous, rambunctious repertoire rigmarole scenic schism sooth.
Ascribe arsenal crucial critical, abhorrent abstinence blatancy berserk, alacritous celerity brogue.
Ceremonial chicanery dynamism fealty, indefatigable incontrovertible ingenuity ingratiate inimical impugn.
Innovate integrity intricate invective convolution, licentious metaphor convection obeisance.
Splurge-ness spry sporadic sprawl, spurious staunch succinct stymie tacit, irate tirade treatise vehement escapade tedium.

Probity irascibly veracious audacity mendacity gumption.
Paphian peccavi preternatural proclivity gesticulation articulation prestidigitation.
Fantastication fantasia fabulist façade, glimmer glisten translucent refulgence.
Subliminally subjunctive nostalgic allusion analogies eidetic’s mnemonics.
Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity fatidic.
Adroit agile nimble tactile acuity prescience capacity intrigue.
Unadulteratedly fornicatious fabrications, portentous ethereal etiquette.
Nose agnate somatology morphology metamorphic, cognition epistemology pragmatics.
Ontological ontogeny causality exigence integumence equivocal.
Innocuous noumenal verity ***** affectation intentions.

Adumbrate intimate obfuscate preterite rendition intimidate.
Logistical tactician spatiotemporal terrestrial equestrian telemetries, physicality’s terrene traverse tellurian terrain.
Vaunt-ness verve’s lucidly illusive, intrepid yare’s predilection predication.
Apriori a posteriori apostrophe shards shroud, innately inert inherency interstitial endemics.                  

Irk-ness ire Zen, graffiti mantra mantis, diminutive minutia iotas inductive interpolation asperities.
Hypercritically mitigating dialectics hypotaxis.
Vituperatively vociferous eerie strident irrefragable orotund  sonorous felicities.
Diacritical diction dharma apomixis.
Chutzpah panache spontaneous generation complicity, gambit alluvium aloof succor.

Demarcate mirador bartizan panorama, stalwart bastion bulwark tableau, dexterous gargoyle disguise gimmick camouflage.
Decipher coercible coalesce corrupt costume counselor chameleon charlatan chaperone entourage.
Cryptic evocative emulation scenarios siren skeptic, cynical demonic gremlin greaves curtilage.
Zesty zingy zippy zeal zenithal azimuth elaborate elliptical empathy endeavor entity entice.

Clambering clamorous clangor strategic systematic propagate prolific, wield wile treatise expose’.
Aural auspice austerity  axiom conscribe, perplex beleaguer beggary, coax cacophony clout, concatenate chronology.
Erumpent erudition evident evil evert, extol fervor flinty florid, fructify impromptu innuendo juncture.
Kinetic supremacy temporize tractive fluent, precious precess predetermined predatory predicament, gyro gyre.
Horizon hornswoggle huckster, hokey hoot ornery honkies.

Horologist hackamore relative rationality.
Decorum dastardly dazzle deceit, demolish demur, annihilate denigrate.
Armature arcade doughty, panacea parallax serendipity servant serenade.
Personification of sartorial perfection, picturesque visage of spectral grace.
Cosmic enigma rational relativity.

Housebreak huckster squabble brash, hovel huff.
Ghastly gruesome grotesque grisly groaty gnarly grotto grouch compunction.
Caustic cavernous celibate catatonic phonics, apex crux axis matrix cortex cephalic.
Blasphemous farcical fugue-ness and estranged ensemble orchestration acoustics.
Rendition: various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness.
Conjugation coercion junction function, adjunct conjunction conjecture.
Concoct deontology ontogeny, ontological enclitic osteopathy.
Anticipate angary amentia, tiercel theocracy.
Phrenic sensorium sentiment paragon tangible.
Covert aspersion avidity, coherent avid avarice, allegory allocate amatory prelude annex annul.

Tantamount telepathy tantalize talisman talesman, prerogative presumptive judicature.
Subpoena parameter perimeter peripherals prophylaxis protocol.
Real deal seal, sail bail, bailiff rake-ness rail.
Yoni yore yare, leeward lecher leer lingam, menagerie melee hyperbolic milieu thesis, métier quintessential fulham.
Dangle wrangle mangle jangle tangle angle.
Hysterically delirious zany nertsy bonkers bluster boggle.
Gyrate, austere askance obliquely, aspire assail askew.

Cosmic origins metamorphosis implosion contractions revision, blond entropy catalyst.
Cataclysm catastrophe holocaust trauma, inefficacy ineffable expiate.
Chaos cognizant conceive dialectic dictates in extremis extremity meld nuance.
Cryptic cipher circuit citadel clairvoyant sequitur.
Cajole fictitious fiery finesse, invoke fulmination gouts clout, curtilage endeavor iterative itinerary.
Ersatz fiat fulcrum fulgurous indemnify indigenous infernal infidel iniquitous.
Electroacoustics ciphony  Electra complex lore, occipital ubiquity synch.
Psychosomatic psychokinesis cybernetics, penumbral platitude platonic proxy photic.
Assimilate stigma perspicacious, astute asunder atman pulchritudinous.
        
Decadent arrogant pompously bombastic blatant flagrant chaparral.
Diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abruptness.
Swarthy beastly antithetical anathema ******* belligerent, savvy irate berserk-ness tirade.
Ulterior aghast agitator incongruous dire, perdurable peremptory primacy arbitrate zealot.
Cantankerously sorcerous insidiously sinister alchemy cauldron, pernicious visceral pathogenic, virulence truculence.
Ideational hideously horrible horrendously heinous ghastly abysmal abjection.
Perpetuity pervade rampart ransack oblation erogenous scarp lambent actuarial arbitrage.
Exserted protuberant pseudopodia actuator, odious aorist militantly mercenary.

Wingspread wiry wiseacre wherewithal rapacity, implicit important juxtaposition.
Machismo equilibrist machinations, kinesiology kleptomaniac knell physique.
Ribaldry rigmarole rhubarb, risqué rive rollick.
Demeanor kamikaze kerf, megalomania misanthropies modus operandi genocidal xenophobic.
Heredity heritage heresy legacy, pseudonym multifarious nefarious nemesis.
Sepulcher stratagem pantheism parapet paradigm, psychosis neophyte, paragon proselyte.
Pilferous wheedling finagler, plunderous pillaging usurper, longevous loquacity lottery.
Rhapsody rhetoric rote raconteur newfangled nocturnal nonchalant sycophant.
Morose morsel moribund, lurid luscious lyricism lucidity lucrative.
Creative cleaver crafty cunning furtive sneaky stealthy connive.
Aphorism euphemism hegira to xanadu carousing marauder syllogism.
Swell surge flow flux craw crux, virago monad chaos character charisma.
Heuristic cavalier humeral, meager demonstrative anarchy iconoclasm, apropos ergo ipso-facto.
Plenary plenipotentiary omniscience presage, omnipotent directive ubiquity emanations.
Nous agnate ontological ontogeny, exegesis peroration.
Abeyance, exotically ****** quixotic ecstatically emphatic fanatic.
Orchestration rendition unicorn railway mainsail, awry askew askance.

Canny cogent fecund erudite sagacious sequacious conjuring mentality introjection conjugation coercions.
Avant-garde temporal abstract, scenario synopsis eclectic synectics.
Synaptic syntax syndrome aspersion, quagmire quandary poshly plush.
Physicality ***** pictorial, picturesque glyph, debauchery deviant profane ***** vicarious assertion exorbitance.
Mystical silhouette sojourn consortium sabbat conclave liaison, soiree tryst rendezvous symposium excursion compendium.
Incarnate cephalic phantasmagoria proximity parameter phantasm epitomize transitive transcendental syntactic semantics.
Resplendent radiant ephemeral effulgence translucent incandescent luster effluence, reflectively refractive azure opulence effusion.
Contentious pretentiously extravagant eccentric intransigent pedantic antics.
Guidon guile homogenous hovering imagination immaturity, exogamy incorporeity ideologies.
Pique poignant piquant puissant quiescence, obstreperously abstruse vagary plausibility’s cause.
Vivid intangible impetus instinct intrigue, livid lurid allusion.
Autonomous preterite discrepancy amendment emendations, transcendent accession ascensional in absentia expurgation exculpation.

Haberdashery hauberk harbinger harangue equilibrist, harpy harsh hast severities.
Inane inert inertia innate, juxtaposition maenad ethos affinities.
Putrid quasi queasy pathos, emanate imminent perdition acerbities.

Agnate aggregate anathema android amalgamated, predication contract.
Glutton paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts.
Ambidextrous amatory prelude amaze, analeptic adrenergic analgesia analytics extract.

Clairaudience clairvoyant omnipresence presage, omnipotent omnificent omniscience.
Pantheism parapet paradigm intuition, prognosticating prosthesis prediction.
Prolific profuseness profundity prosaic, nimbus nimiety nitty gritty, intrados rubato.

Venerable divinatory deity deify veneration, delineate demagoguery ecstasy, agonist agog.
Dream gleam cream seam beam team, serene ravine green gene careen, obscene demean.
Empiricise the existentialisms in the demagoguery of godhead aspiration.
Corporeal anaclitic apex inveterate embezzlement extroversion, acuity alacrity extortion.
Extraneous extemporaneous, ominous phenomena portrayal spontaneous synchronous, aorist actuator.

Endergonic protensive integration extrapolation interpolations investiture elicits.
Scenario synopsis synthesis syncopation, harmony rhymes rhythm.
Synchronous transition transposition interlude, summerial derivation cognition.
                                                      ­                                                                 ­             
Irk-ness ire aerie altruism allegorical, autonomous avarice oscillating ostracism.
Pandemonium obdurate temerity impunity, impending preponderance onus, numinous illuminism quintessential frolic.
Amorous ardent argent arduous enamor endear, plenary putschist volatile phatic.
Conveyor controvert deft mesmeric deification deist dissertation.
Drastic premise portent pervasive embellish, elusive enhance enchant, engender enthrall.
Perpetuation euphenic euthenics, exude emote concoct recalcitrance regalia, irrefragable preternatural ne plus ultra prurient.
Vernaculars opulent myriad, aesthetic stratagem venial vexatious, astral projection conjuring levity apothegms.

Incite epistemological illuminism, accoutrements umbrage ultraism incognito trajectory extant.
Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive, heuristic manumission exigency.
Ostensible proclivity prodigious querulous, rambunctious repertoire rigmarole scenic schism sooth.
Ascribe arsenal crucial critical, abhorrent abstinence blatancy berserk, alacritous celerity brogue.
Ceremonial chicanery dynamism fealty, indefatigable incontrovertible ingenuity ingratiate inimical impugn.
Innovate integrity intricate invective convolution, licentious metaphor convection obeisance.
Splurge-ness spry sporadic sprawl, spurious staunch succinct stymie tacit, irate tirade treatise vehement escapade tedium.

Probity irascibly veracious audacity mendacity gumption.
Paphian peccavi preternatural proclivity gesticulation articulation prestidigitation.
Fantastication fantasia fabulist façade, glimmer glisten translucent refulgence.
Subliminally subjunctive nostalgic allusion analogies eidetic’s mnemonics.
Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity fatidic.
Adroit agile nimble tactile acuity prescience capacity intrigue.
Unadulteratedly fornicatious fabrications, portentous ethereal etiquette.
Nose agnate somatology morphology metamorphic, cognition epistemology pragmatics.
Ontological ontogeny causality exigence integumence equivocal.
Innocuous noumenal verity ***** affectation intentions.

Adumbrate intimate obfuscate preterite rendition intimidate.
Logistical tactician spatiotemporal terrestrial equestrian telemetries, physicality’s terrene traverse tellurian terrain.
Vaunt-ness verve’s lucidly illusive, intrepid yare’s predilection predication.
Apriori a posteriori apostrophe shards shroud, innately inert inherency interstitial endemics.                  

Irk-ness ire Zen, graffiti mantra mantis, diminutive minutia iotas inductive interpolation asperities.
Hypercritically mitigating dialectics hypotaxis.
Vituperatively vociferous eerie strident irrefragable orotund  sonorous felicities.
Diacritical diction dharma apomixis.
Chutzpah panache spontaneous generation complicity, gambit alluvium aloof succor.

Demarcate mirador bartizan panorama, stalwart bastion bulwark tableau, dexterous gargoyle disguise gimmick camouflage.
Decipher coercible coalesce corrupt costume counselor chameleon charlatan chaperone entourage.
Cryptic evocative emulation scenarios siren skeptic, cynical demonic gremlin greaves curtilage.
Zesty zingy zippy zeal zenithal azimuth elaborate elliptical empathy endeavor entity entice.

Clambering clamorous clangor strategic systematic propagate prolific, wield wile treatise expose’.
Aural auspice austerity  axiom conscribe, perplex beleaguer beggary, coax cacophony clout, concatenate chronology.
Erumpent erudition evident evil evert, extol fervor flinty florid, fructify impromptu innuendo juncture.
Kinetic supremacy temporize tractive fluent, precious precess predetermined predatory predicament, gyro gyre.
Horizon hornswoggle huckster, hokey hoot ornery honkies.

Horologist hackamore relative rationality.
Decorum dastardly dazzle deceit, demolish demur, annihilate denigrate.
Armature arcade doughty, panacea parallax serendipity servant serenade.
Personification of sartorial perfection, picturesque visage of spectral grace.
Cosmic enigma rational relativity.

Housebreak huckster squabble brash, hovel huff.
Ghastly gruesome grotesque grisly groaty gnarly grotto grouch compunction.
Caustic cavernous celibate catatonic phonics, apex crux axis matrix cortex cephalic.
Blasphemous farcical fugue-ness and estranged ensemble orchestration acoustics.
Rendition: various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness.
Conjugation coercion junction function, adjunct conjunction conjecture.
Concoct deontology ontogeny, ontological enclitic osteopathy.
Anticipate angary amentia, tiercel theocracy.
Phrenic sensorium sentiment paragon tangible.
Covert aspersion avidity, coherent avid avarice, allegory allocate amatory prelude annex annul.

Tantamount telepathy tantalize talisman talesman, prerogative presumptive judicature.
Subpoena parameter perimeter peripherals prophylaxis protocol.
Real deal seal, sail bail, bailiff rake-ness rail.
Yoni yore yare, leeward lecher leer lingam, menagerie melee hyperbolic milieu thesis, métier quintessential fulham.
Dangle wrangle mangle jangle tangle angle.
Hysterically delirious zany nertsy bonkers bluster boggle.
Gyrate, austere askance obliquely, aspire assail askew.

Cosmic origins metamorphosis implosion contractions revision, blond entropy catalyst.
Cataclysm catastrophe holocaust trauma, inefficacy ineffable expiate.
Chaos cognizant conceive dialectic dictates in extremis extremity meld nuance.
Cryptic cipher circuit citadel clairvoyant sequitur.
Cajole fictitious fiery finesse, invoke fulmination gouts clout, curtilage endeavor iterative itinerary.
Ersatz fiat fulcrum fulgurous indemnify indigenous infernal infidel iniquitous.
Electroacoustic ciphony  Electra complex lore, occipital ubiquity synch.
Psychosomatic psychokinesis cybernetics, penumbral platitude platonic proxy photic.
Assimilate stigma perspicacious, astute asunder atman pulchritudinous.
        
Decadent arrogant pompously bombastic blatant flagrant chaparral.
Diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abruptness.
Swarthy beastly antithetical anathema ******* belligerent, savvy irate berserk-ness tirade.
Ulterior aghast agitator incongruous dire, perdurable peremptory primacy arbitrate zealot.
Cantankerously sorcerous insidiously sinister alchemy cauldron, pernicious visceral pathogenic, virulence truculence.
Ideational hideously horrible horrendously heinous ghastly abysmal abjection.
Perpetuity pervade rampart ransack oblation erogenous scarp lambent actuarial arbitrage.
Exserted protuberant pseudopodia actuator, odious aorist militantly mercenary.

Wingspread wiry wiseacre wherewithal rapacity, implicit important juxtaposition.
Machismo equilibrist machinations, kinesiology kleptomaniac knell physique.
Ribaldry rigmarole rhubarb, risqué rive rollick.
Demeanor kamikaze kerf, megalomania misanthropies modus operandi genocidal xenophobic.
Heredity heritage heresy legacy, pseudonym multifarious nefarious nemesis.
Sepulcher stratagem pantheism parapet paradigm, psychosis neophyte, paragon proselyte.
Pilferous wheedling finagler, plunderous pillaging usurper, longevous loquacity lottery.
Rhapsody rhetoric rote raconteur newfangled nocturnal nonchalant sycophant.
Morose morsel moribund, lurid luscious lyricism lucidity lucrative.
Creative cleaver crafty cunning furtive sneaky stealthy connive.
Aphorism euphemism hegira to xanadu carousing marauder syllogism.
Swell surge flow flux craw crux, virago monad chaos character charisma.
Heuristic cavalier humeral, meager demonstrative anarchy iconoclasm, apropos ergo ipso-facto.
Plenary plenipotentiary omniscience presage, omnipotent directive ubiquity emanations.
Nous agnate ontological ontogeny, exegesis peroration.
Abeyance, exotically ****** quixotic ecstatically emphatic fanatic.
Orchestration rendition unicorn railway mainsail, awry askew askance.

Canny cogent fecund erudite sagacious sequacious conjuring mentality introjection conjugation coercions.
Avant-garde temporal abstract, scenario synopsis eclectic synectics.
Synaptic syntax syndrome aspersion, quagmire quandary poshly plush.
Physicality ***** pictorial, picturesque glyph, debauchery deviant profane ***** vicarious assertion exorbitance.
Mystical silhouette sojourn consortium sabbat conclave liaison, soiree tryst rendezvous symposium excursion compendium.
Incarnate cephalic phantasmagoria proximity parameter phantasm epitomize transitive transcendental syntactic semantics.
Resplendent radiant ephemeral effulgence translucent incandescent luster effluence, reflectively refractive azure opulence effusion.
Contentious pretentiously extravagant eccentric intransigent pedantic antics.
Guidon guile homogenous hovering imagination immaturity, exogamy incorporeity ideologies.
Pique poignant piquant puissant quiescence, obstreperously abstruse vagary plausibility’s cause.
Vivid intangible impetus instinct intrigue, livid lurid allusion.
Autonomous preterite discrepancy amendment emendations, transcendent accession ascensional in absentia expurgation exculpation.

I hate white people
who stop me from stealing their stuff
and bring in the po po
who put me in hand cuff.

Now I'm in jail
cannot post bail
eating out of a metal bowl
while being ****** in my *******.

Then it occurred to me
what I am supposed to be
so I became a basketball player
and changed my name to Lebron James.

Chris Bosh wants to be more than homies
ever since I was drunk and he groped me
he wanted my ****
i think he was sick.

Spoelstra is an ***
I ****** hate him.
he needs to die
before I cram a basketball in his wife.

If you're going to bail, bail early
This applies to relationships, college classes and plans to hang out,
It only makes sense right?
You see, I'm not here to tell you how to walk, talk and act
No, that was never my job but it was your parents job and no, I'm not here to criticize the mediocre job they did
But you can't cover up that maybe, just maybe they did mess up,
Emotionally they were absent, maybe they were never there or they chose a new lover over their love product,

You,
You hold in your hands two options, on one hand is the choice of holding onto your pain and letting it ear at you till you are no longer you,
Only a hallow cavity that once held a promising life
The second, well this is the one nobody seems to choose right away, this one is choosing to let go of all your pain and forgiving your old self
All of this is a choice no one is forcing you to do anything, the power completely lies in your hands

If I can offer you any piece of advice it has to be this, if you're going to bail, bail early
But before you go sit down and talk with your parents, give the the chance to share their scars, laughs and abandoned ambitions cause one day sooner than you think they'll be just a distant memory in your stories to your own kids
Call your siblings, I know you might hate them right now but they're the only link to your past, they remember the things that are way too fuzzy in your mind,
Keep them, hold them near they have something not many others are lucky enough to have, a shared experience that comes in crashing like a tidal wave

Check up on your friends,
The ones that stuck around,
The ones that wandered off
And the ones that left a bitter taste on the roof of your mouth,
Yeah I know this sounds weird but trust me, these people all hold a piece of who you were when you couldn't put together who you wanted to be
Your friends, just like your siblings hold a key that many others have, they have access to the different variations of you
Each of them holds a piece of your heart, the beauty, the dirt and the hurt, your friends give you limited access to the days when you once thought you were invincible,
Guess our capes of invincibility got lost when we were all too busy flying around in the night sky reaching for the stars and the galaxies far far away

You haven't reach your peak yet,
Your life isn't as messy as it may seem right now, your 20's were meant for such mistakes, your life should be messy, nobody likes someone who has it "all together"
Do not dwell on your mistakes for far too long or you'll miss what's right in front of you,
You'll miss the shot of living life cause you focused too much of the bullet hole wounds left from your past
My God, this life, this life is too beautiful to wast, I don't know much about anything but if I can offer you one piece of advice let it be this:

If you're going to bail, bail early, this applies to relationships, college classes and plans to hang out

I was packing some snus
when I got up from a snooze
to put a ****
In a boiling vat of hotdog juice.

She was screaming and yelling
as I poured in the salt
and the cops busted my door
as my meal came to a halt.

I said "whats the rush?"
He said "***** hush"
As he sipped very angrily
at his watermelon slush.

I am black
yes very black
so they put me in the back
of their ****** cop van.

I went to jail again
For trying to cook a ****
in a boiling vat of hotdog juice
as I watched espn.

I got out of jail
Cause my drug money was bail
went back home
to see a fresh cooked **** in my garbage pail.

I was so happy
that I took a break to fappy
on my nice leather couch
while my girlfriend was napping.

Today was a good day.
Ice cube agreed.
I smoked all of my ****
and gave into my greed.

***** don't **** my vibe.

My mother should be an author
She carves her soul into millions of pieces
Leaving it behind all of the family photos
When I see my mother
I see a woman
Who wants to hide her soul in a needle
Just so the screaming can stop in her mind,
These bottles are rattling in the living room
You see they have put shackles on her heart,
She can't love anymore
Without having ***** in her water bottle.

Where is she hiding her beer?
I feel like my mother is giving me a scavenger hunt
From the shards of glass that were left on the baseball fields
My mother used to take me to.

You know she always wasn't like this
She was strong minded and had a big heart
Tonight I will tell you the story of a woman
Who lost her soul to the Keystones to the Miller Lites
To the ****** Mary’s.
Let's rewind time
See ******* the soul in ten years

10- I look into my mother's eyes and I start to cry
Because I'm looking at a woman who I don't know anymore

9- I refused to bail her out of jail again
Because I'm afraid her kidney will fail if she drinks again

8- My mother staggered into the theater and disrupted the whole play,
My cast mates turned to me and asked, isn't that your mother?

7- I had to hold my mothers hand
Because she was throwing up the cocktail of drugs and alcohol

6- Daddy had to get mom out of jail she was drinking again

5- My mother throws the bottle across the room
And told me the reason why she drinks is because I'm Autistic

4- My mother overslept for my piano recital,
I didn't think it was a big deal
But I remember she spent the whole night crying
With a wine glass in her hand.

3- Mommy I didn't know your prescription came in a needle

2- Mommy the prescription say 2 pills a day
why are you taking 6?

1- My mother went to the doctor
Found out that she has Rheumatoid Arthritis
I don't know what that means,
But I know she will still be strong right?

0- She took me to a Dodger game for my birthday.
I remember Sammy Sosa hitting a home run that game
She told me that the only person that can **** your soul is yourself

hand slaps shoulder knee rhythmically that’s called hamming the bone sitting on a street curb singing making up lyrics i got a transitor sister loves cossack named jake he rides Cherokee chopper all he’s ever known is hate he’s going down underground where a man can be a man wrestle alligators live off the land ebb flow i don’t know racing chasing hair-pin turning at 150 miles per hour downshift to 3rd spread the word sweet sour naked flower touching skin deep within defies all sin with a grin speed speed speed all i need i’m getting off coming on you tawny scrawny bow-legged pigeon-toed knock-kneed Don Juan Ponce de Leon Aly Khan all wrapped up into one going to have ******* good time good time tonight i feel like an orphan mom and dad seem so far away tonight i feel like an orphan you make me feel this way hand slaps shoulder knee rhythmically hand bone hand bone

Odyseuss drifts job to job construction worker office assistant waiter whatever he does not understand how road to recognition works continues showing portfolio to art dealers but they react indifferently he does not know how to attain notice in art world begins to suspect there is no god watching over souls instead he imagines infinite force juggling light darkness creation destruction love hate Mom and Dad insist he can earn respectable income if only he will learn commodity futures like cousin Chris Mom says you can work down at the exchange and paint on the side a part of Odysseus wants desperately to please his parents he considers perhaps Mom is right for the time being maybe build up nest egg it seems like sensible plan he wonders why Dad and Mom never speak about money how to save manage they treat the subject as forbidden topic Odysseus has no idea what Dad or Mom earn or investment strategies Odysseus is about to make serious mistake the decision to get job working at commodity exchange needs deeper examination why is he giving in to his parents what attracts him to commodities trading is it Chris’s achievement and the money? does Odysseus honestly see himself as a winning trader or does it simply look like big party with lots of rich men pretty young girls is that where he wants to be why is he giving up on his dream to be a great artist does it seem too impossible to reach who makes him think that? is he going to give up on his true self? he halfheartedly follows his parent’s advice begins working as runner at Chicago Mercantile Exchange several friends including Calexpress disloyalty for entering straight world commodity markets are not exactly straight in 1978 clearing firms pay adequately hours are 8 AM to 2 PM over course of next 6 months Odysseus runs orders out to various trading pits cousin Chris rarely acknowledges Odysseus maybe Chris feels need to protect his image of success perhaps in front of his business associates Chris is embarrassed by Odysseus’s menial rank and goof-off attitude maybe Chris senses what a terrible mistake Odysseus has made

Chicago suffers harsh winter in February Roman Polanski skips bail in California flees to France in April President Carter postpones production of neutron bomb which kills people with radiation leaving buildings intact in October Yankees win World Series defeating Dodgers in November Jim Jones leads mass-****** suicide killing 918 people in Jonestown Guyana in December in San Francisco Dianne Feinstein succeeds murdered Mayor George Moscone in Chicago John Wayne Gacy is arrested

darkness descends upon Odysseus his heart is not into commodity business more accurately he hates it he loathes battleship gray color of greed envy he resents prevailing overcast of misogyny he meets many pretty girls yet most of them are only interested in catching a trader it is rumored numerous high rolling traders hire young girls for sole purpose of morning ******* remainder of day girls are free to mingle run trivial errands commodity traders typically trash females it is primitive hierarchy Odysseus bounces from one clearing firm to another then moves to Chicago Options Exchange then Chicago Board of Trade on foyer wall just outside trading floor hangs bronze plaque commemorating all men who served in World War 2 Uncle Karl’s name is on that plaque Daddy Pat bought his son seat hoping to set him up after war Uncle Karl’s new wife wanted to break away from Chicago persuaded him to sell seat move to California Uncle Karl bought car wash outside Los Angeles with Daddy Pat’s support Mom and Dad encourage assure Odysseus commodities business is right choice they promise to buy him full seat on exchange if he continues to learn markets they feel certain he can be saved from his artistic notions the markets are soaring in profits cousin Chris is riding waves a number of Chris’s friends are sons of parents who belong to same clubs dine at same restaurants as Mom and Dad Odysseus is not alpha-male like Chris Odysseus is a dreamer painter poet writer explorer experimenter unlike Chris who has connections Odysseus starts out as runner then gets job holding deck for yuppie brokers in Treasury Dollar trading pit Odysseus holds buy orders between index and middle fingers sell orders in last 2 fingers arranged by time stamp price size in other hand holds nervous pencil he stands step below boss in circular pit in room size of football field full of raised pits everything is traded cattle hogs pork bellies all currencies gold numbers flash change instantaneously in columns on three high walls fourth wall is glass with seats behind for spectators thousands of people rush around delivering orders on telephones flashing hand signals shouting offers quantities every moment every day calls come in frantically from all around world space is organized chaos sometimes not so organized fortunes switch hands in nano-seconds it is global fiscal battleground rallies to up side or breaks to down side send room into hollering pushing shoving hysteria central banks financial institutions kingpin mobsters with political clout daring entrepreneurs old thieves suburban rich kids beautiful people pretty young females abound big guns **** in same air stand next to low-ranking runners everyone flirts sweats sneezes knows inside they are each expendable Odysseus is spellbound by sheer force magnitude he feels immaterial only grip is his success with girls it is not conscious talent he grins girls grin back Chris’s trader friends recognize Odysseus’s ability they push him to introduce girls to them it is way for Odysseus to level playing field he has no money or high opinion of himself he simply knows how to hook up with girls

1979 January Steelers defeat Cowboys at Super Bowl Brenda Ann Spencer kills 2 faculty wounds 8 students responds to incident “i don't like Mondays” in February Khomeini seizes power in Iran in March Voyager space-probe photographs Jupiter’s rings a nuclear power plant accident occurs at Three Mile Island Pennsylvania in May Margaret Thatcher is elected Prime Minister in England in Chicago American Airlines flight 191 crashes killing 273 people in November Iran hostage crisis begins 90 hostages 53 of whom are American in December Soviet Union invades Afghanistan 1980 in November Ronald Reagan defeats Jimmy Carter one year since Iran hostage crisis began

he meets good-looking younger girl named Monica on subway heading home from work he has seen her running orders on trading floor she is tall slender with long dark brown hair in ponytail pointed nose wide mouth innocent face she confides her estranged father is famous Chicago mobster Odysseus recognizes his name they talk about how much they dislike markets arrant disparity of wealth between traders and themselves Odysseus says i hate feeling of being so disposable worthless Monica replies yeah me too he tells her if i was a girl i’d ******* myself to several handsome generous traders Monica acknowledges that’s an interesting idea but who? how? which traders? do you know? he answers yeah i know exactly who and how Monica says if you’re serious i’m in i have a girlfriend named Larissa who might also be interested i’ll call Larissa tonight following day Monica approaches Odysseus at work agrees to meet at his place after markets close that afternoon Monica and Larissa show up eager to learn more about Odysseus’s scheme Larissa is petite built like a gymnast giggly light brown hair younger than Monica he lays it all out for them cousin Chris and his buddies the money ******* both girls are quite lovely he suggests they rehearse with him he will coach them on situations settings techniques girls consent for 4 weeks every afternoon they meet at Odysseus’s place get naked play out different scenarios he shows girls how to pose demure at first then display themselves skillfully fingers delicately pulling open ***** spreading wide apart buns working hidden muscles he directs each to take up numerous positions tasks techniques then has them switch places he teaches them timing starting slow gradually building up rhythms stirring into passionate frenzy having two mouths four hands creates novel sets of possibilities one girl attends his front while other excites his rear he positions them side-by-side so he can penetrate any of all four holes he stacks them one on top of the other many other variations after reaching ****** several times making sure to reciprocally satisfy their eager needs Odysseus dismisses girls until following day finally after month of practice Monica and Larissa feel confident proficient primed Odysseus arranges for girls to meet with 2 traders through Chris most traders have nicknames Twist who is hosting event is notoriously wild insatiable on opening night Odysseus behaves like concerned father Larissa and Monica each bring several dresses and pairs of shoes Odysseus helps them choose suggests Monica ease up on make-up he styles Larissa’s hair instructs Monica to call him when they arrive again when they leave he requests they return directly to his place Monica wears hair pulled back in French twist pearl earrings sleek little black dress black stiletto heels she stands several inches above Odysseus Larissa wears braided pigtails pink low-scooped leotard brown plaid wool kilt just above knees brown suede cowboy boots he kisses each on lips then pats their butts warns them to be careful mindful Monica winks Larissa giggles more than an hour passes as Odysseus sits wondering why he has not heard from girls suddenly reality hits he does not want to be commodities trader and certainly not a **** this is not how he wants to be known or remembered Odysseus wants to be a painter and writer Monica and Larissa are good sweet girls whom he has misguided he calls Twist’s place Twist answers Odysseus asks to speak with Monica when she comes to phone he questions are you all right Monica answers yes we’re fine we’re having a fantastic time why are you calling what’s wrong he explains you were suppose to call me when you arrived i began to worry i think maybe this whole arrangement is a bad idea i want you to call it off and come back home i don’t want either of you to become prostitutes i love you both and don’t want to be associated with dishonoring you Monica says it’s a little late to call it off but we’ll see you when we’re done kissy kiss bye Odys another hour passes then another he frets wondering what they are doing after 4 hours as he is about to call Twist’s house again doorbell rings Monica and Larissa both giggling beaming Odysseus can spot they have a coke buzz Monica announces you should be proud of us Odys we got each of them off 2 times we left them stone-numb and tapped out the girls open their purses each slaps 5 hundred dollar bills unto table Monica says this is your cut Odys we both got a thousand for ourselves he replies i can’t touch that money we need to sit down and talk Monica demands no talking Odys take off your clothes he insists i’m serious Monica i’m never going to send you out again Larissa claims there’s no turning back for me i had too much fun Monica  pleads come on Odys we’ll be good we promise now take off your clothes Twist and his buddy never attended to our needs i’m ***** as hell Larissa where’s that little bottle of dust Twisty handed you

Chicago Monday night December 8 1980 Cal and Odysseus sit at North End they're on 4th round feeling buzz the place is lively adorned with holiday decorations Cal says you’ve changed Odysseus questions what do you mean? how? Cal says the commodity markets and your cousin and his friends they’ve changed you when was the last time you painted Odys? are you dealing coke Odysseus looks Cal in the eyes answers they’re so ******* rich Cal you can’t believe it one drives a black Corvette Stingray another a ******* Delorean anything they want they buy girls cars clothes condos boats yeah i’m dealing coke to Chris’s friends it’s my only leverage remember the Columbian dude Armando we met at tittie bar? i score from him and keep it clean Chris’s buddies pay up for the quality i don’t remember my last painting maybe the black painting i never finished after breaking up with Reiko Lee a girl falls off bar stool crashing to floor at other end of bar Cal says Odys, you better play it careful you’re messing with the devil got any blow on you suddenly bar grows quiet someone turns up TV volume they watch overhead as news anchorman speaks slow solemn camera pans splattered puddle of blood pieces of broken glass on steps to Dakota Building Cal looks to Odysseus John Lennon has been murdered Cal waits for Odysseus to say something tear rolls down cheek Cal glances away stares down at floor they drink in silence

Prometheus ignites to spark this
Molotov to make his Marxist
On swine Fuhrer's Faux News tweet
Hashtag it #GorbachevWallStreet
'Cuz Putin's puppet Pinochet's
Whipped Creme de Kremlin's CIA  
From JFK to Allende
Like Russian roulette ricochet
I'll Trotsky through McCarthy's brains
Leave slain these ****** sugar Keynes   
Discred' the Fed’s six-figureheads
With strikes at dawn more red than Debs  
Still breakin' breads with Mulan Bouges
Makin' men of Khmer Stooges
Seein’ Rouge when Al Spans Greens
Potemkin loan wolf ponzi schemes
Who count the sheep like Philippines
Then Black Pearl Harbor GRANMA’s dreams...

Of Marilyn Monroes in store
Just off-shore ****** who **** the poor
A Glass of Steagall's broken trust
Half emptier than bowls of dust
In rust beltways still spewin’ fumes
As factories become Khartoums
No carbon footprint tax the hint
Of Amazon decays in Flint
Just pop the caps and drown in debt
Like Kent State drinkin' to forget
That cuttin’ class engenders race
Leaves glory, gold and God's disgrace
To slaughter Moor than Reconquista  
From Marti to Sandinista     
With Zapata sharin’ crops  
Till my Mexica heartbeat stops

I'm Pancho infiltratin’ villas
The Magilla of guerillas
In the midst of Congolese  
Same colonies, just different thieves
To me, my breed’s of landless deeds
So how you like ‘dem Appleseeds?
FReeducatin’ caves of youth
Fed Citizen’s United Fruit
‘Cuz now my open eye of Horus
Battle cries Grito de Lares
Che is centered in these veins
So my Ashoka takes the reigns
These Iron paci-Fists pack hits
Like Jimi on some Malcolm ****
Still Hajj mirages I barrage
The Raj with sheer Cong camouflage

Deployin' Sepoys on viceroys
And pol desPots’ in the employs
Of Tweedledums who run the slums
With country clubs of loaded guns
These Betsy Deez bear arms to school
Till no kids fly kites in Kabul
So gas-mask your Sharia flaw
I'll Genghis Khan Sheikoun it raw  
'Cuz refugees are rising
And we're anti-socializing
Subsidizing private party plans
Who take commands from ***** hands
These grand old klans coup klux control
Your diamond minds with mines of coal
An oil Standardized existence
Solar powers my resistance

******* sun of Liberty  
My fear itself is history  
Rewriting wrongs of Leo’s creed
In culture’s blood and vulture’s greed
An alt-right/all-white cockpile   
Stockpilin' human capital
In tricklin’ contests over spoils
Of the cotton-ceded soils
Jingos chained to Cruci-fictions
Swallowin' good Christian dictions
I spit Spanish Inquisition
Trippin' Socrates sedition
Droppin' Oppen's fission quest
For "now I am become death"
'Cuz G-bay pigs in-Fidel's sites
Flew U-2's into my last rites

These Saddamites, I smite Assad
Then spread 'em like Islamabad
Convert for-profit prison tsars
From Escobars to Bolivars 
Like currency in Venezuela
Current police-state favela
Where 9/10th's of your possession's
Worth less than your Great Depression’s
Upscale bail ‘em outs of jail
With Dodd-Frank banks too big to fail
Your FDA-approved psychosis
From Campos’ daily dose of
More defense? Here’s my two cents
These slave wages ain’t excrements
So just say no to Reaganomics    
Got us hooked, but not on phonics

Just that Noriega strain
Of Contras stackin' crack contain
Like MAD dogs who trade weapons-grades  
For Ayatollah hate tirades
On “don’t ask, don’t tell” plague ebonics
Drug crusAID Jim Crow narcotics     
Warsaw rats injected, tested,
Quarantined, and then arrested
Guess the J. Arbenz' lens
Still Tet offends their ethnic cleanse
Still Wounding Knees of Standing Sioux
Till Crazy Horses stampede you   
For Mother Nature’s common ground
My Martin Luther’s gather ‘round
Is hellbound sounds of Nero’s crown  
Let's burn this Third World Reichstag down

Vox populyin’ to remove ‘ya
Like Lumumba then Nkrumah
So some Pumbaa kleptocrat
Declares himself the next Sadat
To hide supply-side Apartheid
Increase demand for genocide
So check your factions in Uganda  
Tune into Hotel Rwanda
Come play pirates with Somalis
Then desert ‘em like Benghazis
Thirst for blood so French Algiers  
It boils mine in Trails of Tears  
My destiny unManifest-
Oppressive Adam-Smitten West
So pay your overdues to Mao
I’ll Mussolini Chairman Dow

Then flood this 9th ward Watergate
With killing fields of glyphosate
I'll redistribute IMF’s
With leftist depth so deft it’s theft
I’ll My Lai massacre these lines
With sweet Satsuma samurhymes
I'll make these Madoff Hitlers squeal
With that Bastille New Deal cold steel
Now feel that Shining Pathos wrath
Drop Nagasaki aftermath
On Nanjing kings and dragon’s Diems
With ****** bodhisattva zens
To show you how I pledge allegiance
With razed flags still rapt in Jesus  
Laosy liars pogrom psalms
Can’t Uncle Phnom my Penh’s truth bombs

On heroes shootin' ******
My fix is un-American
Tiananmen democracies
To Syngman Rhee hypocrisies  
Theocracies drive me Hussein
With Bush league’s mass destruction claim
So I dig laissez pharaohs graves
With pyramids of Abu Ghraibs
Then nail their coffers closed like Vlad
I AM THE GHOST OF STALINGRAD
My hammer forged in winters past
My sickle reaps the shadows caste
By pantheons of penta-cons
Whose Exxons lead to autobahns
When liberal Arts of War and Peace in
Free speech teach my voice of treason

Sympathy I feel for those who haven’t seen what I’ve seen, and for those who have felt what I’ve felt. The embodiment of my regret, shining with all the light once saved me, now engulfs me in torment of my mistake. As I orbit in harmony with the rotation of a green star, that is much more than just a green star, I ponder what my life would be if I still had my green star. I know that in time, this green star that means everything and more to me, will collapse and perish, but we will only be able to see the star frozen in time, that very instant before it collapsed, desperately clinging to one single moment. I still cling to that moment, the moment I saw my soul break free from the chains that I thought would hold me down perpetually, in her eyes. I don’t quite know how it happened, I wasn’t looking for it, I wasn’t on the make, it was the perfect storm, I said one thing, she said another, and the next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days in the middle of that conversation. It’s painful to admit that I ruined the most precious friendship I’ve ever had, which tends to sting more when she was the only genuine friend I’ve ever had. I prefer solidarity most of the time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t long for a companion every now and again, but lately that desire grows stronger and stronger, holding on to the memory of the companion I once had and lost. My life on Earth, my past life, would be considered prosperous; I was one of the top aerospace engineers in the world, which is a very time consuming and painstaking practice, but exploring the unknown territories of the universe had always been my passion. I didn’t have much of a family, my mother and father passed away when I was 22 years old, and my brother and I severed ties shortly after the death of our parents, and I had not desire nor time for a significant other, let alone the willingness to dedicate my life to another person. I always believed that I embodied the definition of misplacement, I never seemed to fit in any particular group of people, nor with any other person, really, I enjoyed getting lost in the sea of my thoughts, riding the waves, pondering ideas, asking questions that can only be answered in theory, which essentially renders me incapable of interacting with others. However, being your own best friend can sometimes lead to psychotic thoughts of self-loathing, and eventually the last straw broke the backbone of my perseverance, and I convinced myself to commit suicide. Originality and pretentiousness ****** me, demanding myself to end my life a way no one else’s life has ended, and my imagination spiraled into a storm, brainstorming my own demise. My most recent endeavor at the time was to manufacture a personal bubble that would sustain in space, and condensing a spaceship into the size of a smart car was the threshold between my pathetic life of this planet, and self-destructive glory. After a year of an extremely unhealthy intensity of research, my talisman of my soul, my most cherished invention, my cosmic coffin. I traveled from my home in Anchorage to the highest point in Alaska, Mount McKinley, and inserted my body comfortably inside my space bubble and proceeded to ascend into my eternal salvation, ascending towards achievement of my life’s dream, ascending the edges of space, where no human has ever occupied in history. The butterfly feeling in my stomach, caused by the sheer joy I felt, is probably the closest feeling I had ever felt at the time to true love, the irony of my affection for death. As I slipped past our atmosphere and found myself floating closer towards the stars and planets, I sat down and enjoyed the galactic show of entropy before me, and after a while the visual melody put me in a hypnotic state, and before I knew it I was being stated down by a saucer shaped spaceship with luminous blue lights encompassing the round edge of the ship. I felt my capsule gravitating towards and entering the ship through a small hole on the underbelly of its structure, that appeared to look like a portal. As I passed through the light I was being observed by a feminine looking blue creature, with bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds in the moonlight, and long, luscious blonde hair, straight and smooth as silk. She was tall, which I realized as I stood up out of my capsule, about an inch taller than my six foot frame, with long, skinny fingers and decently big webbed feet, and a long slender tail hanging down from her backside that wasn't quite long enough to touch the ground. She had shiny, scaly skin that had a deceptive rough appearance in texture, but felt soft and smooth when her hand reached out to embrace mine, and she said, "Hello, I am called Elora, what are you called?" Still in shock, the only awkward response I muttered was, "Eric" and she asked, "Why are you here Eric?" As I regained my quick wit I declared, "Does anyone know why they're here?" She smiled, exposing her sharp white teeth and proposed, "Well, you can help me find out." I think it had something to do with the adrenaline rush caused by the mystery and uncertainty of the situation, but I caught myself grinning, I didn't even realize I was smiling, it was an odd, unfamiliar feeling, but I was madly attracted to this blue angel from the stars. I spoke to her about my life on Earth, and my elaborate suicide plan, and she explained to me that she abandoned her home planet Eridani to conduct galactic research, and that she was from the Altair race. She elaborated on how life on Eridani did not satisfy her, and that she would spend her life roaming around nebulas, exploring galaxies, researching stars, and documenting her experiences. She showed me a star that she claims as hers, a green star called Zohra, which was her favorite star because she said she could only feel happiness when looking at it, to which I said, “It reminds of your eyes” and she looked at me and seemed flattered. She loved that star, her eyes lit up brighter than the star itself when she would stare at it, hypnotized at the sight of it, which I cared little to notice because I couldn’t look away from her. I couldn’t quite understand how someone could be so invested in something like that, something that just sits there spinning and spinning, peacefully participating in the orchestra of the universe. I think she was so fascinated by this object because she felt the same disconnect from others of our kind. The lonely, outcast feeling connected us, ironically, and we carried on intriguing conversation for what felt like an eternity, and I only wish that conversation could've lasted longer. I found in Elora what I had not found in any human being, she understood me, to the point where I was convinced she had mind reading abilities, and her understanding me didn’t diminish her interest in me, like what usually happened to me on Earth. I found happiness in her company, I found salvation in her embrace, I found unparalleled beauty inside and out, and I found myself in our friendship.  As time slowly rolled on my affection for Elora grew increasingly unbearable, and eventually the realization dawned upon me that I had to inform Elora of my feelings for her. We were accelerating towards the Crab Nebula, and I noticed the blurred blue light in the center, wrapped around by streams of red and yellow light, holding the blue heart in the center together. Elora was to me what the red and yellow streams were to the integrity of the Crab Nebula, without those streams, without Elora, my soul would fall apart and disburse, just like the blue light in the center of the Crab Nebula. When I turned, looked her square in her eyes, her gorgeous eyes that were accented by the light emitting from the Crab Nebula, those eyes that pull you in and leave you in a trance, those eyes that display the beauty of nature condensed into two little spheres that seemed to effortlessly gaze inside my soul, breaking down every single wall that I have ever built up to hide myself from other people, and uncover everything I so desperately attempted to hide deep down, and I said to her, “You are the only reason I’m still alive, the only reason I still want to live, the only other soul that accepted my lost, broken soul, you are the most amazing, most beautiful creature born from the stars we now roam around, I tried to die to see what heaven is like, but heaven can wait, because there is nothing more I want than to be with you until the day my soul slips away from my body, I am madly in love with you Elora.” I poured my heart and soul out to her, bleeding out every ounce of passion and love and sophistication to her, exposing every bit of my emotions, leaving me naked and defenseless before her. Different scenarios raced around my head about how she would respond, and she glanced down at the ground, looked back up at my blank face, and she said, “My people do not love, we do not believe in love, and we cannot love. Love, no matter how polarizing it may seem, always fades in time, everything fades in time, love fades in time, ideas fade in time, you will fade in time, I will fade in time, in the end, nothing is perpetual.” My heart sank down into my stomach, and right at that moment I grasped the idea of why they call it “falling in love” because I landed harder than I could even fathom, I did not know that such powerful emotional sorrow could physically hurt so bad. I dropped down to one knee, and the streams of tears ran from my face and splashed down on the ground, like delicate little glass beads shattering as they made contact with the surface, shattering like my heart and soul. The pure agony and embarrassment of staying with the love of my life, whom I had just made an absolute fool of myself in front of, was enough to crush any man’s esteem, so the only rational option I could think of was bail towards my space bubble, and go as far away as I possibly could from the light that saved me. With every inch of separation between her and I, my heart and soul grew sour and stone cold, and new theories to rationalize my reaction and actions that followed. As a child I went to an amusement park, and I was particularly frightened of a certain attraction that lifted you straight up, a couple hundred feet, and dropped you straight down, and now I realize that my fears of love are comparable to this ride. I was so mortified by the ascension, which precedes love, that I could never enjoy the thrill of the fall, even though this time the safety harness didn’t soften the landing. I came to the conclusion, after years of thought, that I could not blame Elora, it was who she was and there was nothing she could do to change that, and instead of accepting the fact that she did not love me, I cowardly abandoned the only thing in my life that I gave a **** about, I ran away from the only other being in the universe that could make me smile the way she made me smile. After years of solidarity and self-loathing I realized that I would much rather spend my life with Elora, even if she didn’t love me, as opposed to regressing back to my lonesome life, only surrounded by a vast, more captivating scene. The only reason I am still alive is because I have not given up hope that one day I will find Elora again, and I will beg for her forgiveness, and hopefully I will be able to cherish every precious moment I spend with her. I solemnly believe that the slim chance will occur that I will once again see that face, gaze into those eyes I once did, and curse my old self for being foolish enough to leave her. I am not certain, but I can only hope that she is at least indifferent to encountering each other once again, but if she denies me I cannot blame her, because after all it is my fault for my impulsive escape. But for now I wander as a nomad amongst the stars that form constellations that all remind me of Elora, watch the planets rotate, and reminisce on the time we shared together, the time I took for granted, time that I consider to be the most precious moments of my life’s experience. I spend most of my time roaming around Zohra, which was where she and I parted ways, in hopes that one day she will return to her favorite star, to find me right there waiting for her, however patience has not served me well, and my actions which I so deeply regret caused her to abandon the star which she claimed as hers, the star that radiated happiness upon her, the magnificent star that embodied her in beauty and essence, to avoid the thought of me leaving her, which is justifiable because she was probably very flustered by me scrambling to leave her after my episode. I rotate around Zohra, observing its physical qualities, seeing Elora’s face every single time I look upon its surface, but one day the light exiting the pores of the planet grew significantly brighter, and Zohra began rotating and shaking at a phenomenally fast speed, and I witnessed Zohra swallow itself in a supernova, creating a black hole. I interpreted this to represent the death of the hope I had to once again see Elora, or maybe time had taken her like time had taken her beloved star. I allowed myself to succumb to the irresistible force from the black hole, and the death of hope I had to once more see the angelic face of my love, swallowed my space bubble and my hollow body occupying it, to the point of no return, where I can no longer regret what I had done to her, because in time, my love for her destroyed me.

All along the broken trees and bridges
Loom the heavy sins of man
Opulence pinches her curvy ridges
Nighttime is the right time
For easy forms of forgiveness

Here horn players blow out as they pass
Shouting sorrows at the moon
High notes vibe loose as Mrs. Cass
Lays down her weary knees
Folds her hands and prays

Coyote madness moves in shadow
Assassin pin striped and grey
Barroom is closed with nowhere to go
Sidewalk is splitting right under you
Birds sit stained by a moon light blue

Screeching southern gospel with tell tale Bill
High grass weave in a hot Autumn night
Bottle empty of those ****** sleeping pills
Eyes heavy from work on the trail
But my hearts heavy lookin' for bail

Make your way to the end block
Shoes broken eyes hung like satin
Stop sign sadness with a broken down clock
Time strikes a maddened midnight
She said every things gonna' be alright

Keys in the lock n' I'm so beat but I'll keep
My shoes are caked in mud
Doors ajar n' my dead end job won't start
Now and then feels like the present and past
All moments in time we grow to resent

In the star struck night Ill be dancing alone
Her skirt twirls yellow and gold
Grass beneath me buried calm cool bones
Death don't seem so bad sometimes
Death tastes just like an old bordeaux wine

When the wind picks up and makes you squint
And your back is bent sideways
Your soul feels spent and no ones gives you a hint
Hold your eyes to the ocean for waves
Come and most certainly go

Over each minute flashes ride through
Planets are forever unaligned
Nod of rotations push stars far past Pluto
A mash of slop soup tectonics
Brimming on the edge of robotics

Oh dudey pick a bail of dudey
Oh dudey pick a bail of dudes
Me and my pal are 2 young dudes who has fun being a little
Cool dude
Oh dudey pick on a little dudey
Please oh mate won't you leave me be dude
You see I go into a club and party with the studies
And every moment I have
I enjoy partying with the dudes
Oh yeah as I party with the dudes yeah
I would have fun yeah
It is so ****** cool
You see I know a dudes a guy
And I will never have *** with a dudie but I can have fun
Partying with the dudes
You see I left one dude sitting
There because he was a Uni need but as a natural fact I should have partied with him
Because he was a cool dude
You see as I sit there drinking
***** partying with the young dudes
I enjoy every moment partying with the dudes
Dad was a bit worried when I partied with the young dudes
Because he thought they will tease me good
But as I party down with all the young dudes
I enjoy it till people started to have fights with me
I hated it I hated it
Teasing and fighting are for the dogs and cats
But I will never regret partying with the young dudes
No mate no cause I was a cool dude

We can fight like holy demons
And in the end, nobody won
You ain't telling me we're over
I'll tell you when we're done

Just because we fight a bit
We argue and we cuss
I ain't set to call us done
There's time still left in us

I ain't going nowhere
I ain't jumpin' off that ridge
I ain't movin' out on you
While there's beer left in the fridge

I'll tell you when we're finished
Though we argue just a smidge
I ain't going nowhere
While there's beer left in the fridge

Sure, I done my cheating
But I kept my fingers crossed
I know that if I kept in on
My ring would not be lost

So I go and party
But I always come back home
It may take me a couple days
But, I know where I belong

I ain't going nowhere
I ain't jumpin' off that ridge
I ain't movin' out on you
While there's beer left in the fridge

I'll tell you when we're finished
Though we argue just a smidge
I ain't going nowhere
While there's beer left in the fridge

We always talk it over
Once they let me out of jail
I know that you still love me
Or you'd not have paid my bail

There's time for us to make up
And there's time for us to fight
So, three more beer or so
And we'll see which will be tonight

I ain't going nowhere
I ain't jumpin' off that ridge
I ain't movin' out on you
While there's beer left in the fridge

I'll tell you when we're finished
Though we argue just a smidge
I ain't going nowhere
While there's beer left in the fridge

I saved a candle from my pity party
Just to burn your house down
Yep, crazy ***** here
Spread the word around
I sent you an invitation
I guess it got lost in the mail
There I sat with my cake and streamers
But you decided to bail
You called me a crazy *****
And you were so, very right
When I use this candle to burn down your house
The flames will be high, and bright
When you run out the door to escape the heat
I'll be there, without fail
Because unlike you, when I'm invited
I show, I Promise I won't bail
I sat at my party crying
At the fact that you didnt show
You dont bail on a crazy *****
Boy, didnt you know?
Black mascara running
My eyeliner, an awful mess
I paid far too much money,
For this satin party dress
Where the **** were you?
Laughing at me I guess
You called me a crazy *****
Do I agree? YES

A bail easily made her
abase and extruded her there extremely adhered to hurl her more
when she openly was scoffing only
to vale her cry which defied throbbing

with wind in her hair
what allure was fair now blue as it wither season in waters soon dawn her tear with scolding moon turned into frost
a scarf lined jacket that drift to stone
fore midnight clear rose twinkle in her eyes

I was down on my luck** and had not returned to my job nor had any notion of returning again. I had a plane ticket for Boston that would fly me to Minnesota that was scheduled to depart in twenty days. I had still not yet bought the bus ticket to Boston. I had one hundred dollars to my name. My friend Billy had owed me one hundred dollars as well and gave me one hundred and thirty dollars in 1988 pesos coins as repayment. Knowing that it might be difficult to find a place who would honestly convert them and that their worth fluctuated, I would have much rather he paid me in US dollars but I took them in thanks and didn’t mention it. He knew what I was thinking and told me that if I couldn’t get a fair price that I could mail them to him when he got to Missouri and he would mail me what he owed in cash but until then all of his money was ******* in his trip home and even that was barely enough but that he had checked on their worth and said it should cover the one-hundred he owed. I smiled and we warmly shook hands to seal the deal.  We spent the day riding around in his wrangler and running some final errands for him before he would be gone.
The three years we had known each other might as well have been a lifetime and had felt just as full as one and had gone by just as fast. We ‘d drunk coffee and smoked cigarettes outside of Elizabeth’s bookstore. We’d watched in silence the beautiful women that would walk passed without much attention given to us. We, however, gave great attention to every ***** and bounce and shimmy. There were some gorgeous women that came to the bookstore those years. We shot pool with Bernie, who had the keys to the Mason Lodge and had many great conversations on the fire escape. We played games of chess in the bookstore. We drove around listening to the blues. Sometimes we got together, the three of us, at Billy’s and we’d make a fire and they’d drink coffee because they were old men and had had to stop drinking years before and I would drink some bourbon or wine after a cup or two of coffee and then we’d share a pack of cigarettes between us and we’d feel the warmth of the fire and have some good laughs. Bernie was diagnosed with a rare and terrible cancer in North Carolina on a trip to see his son in the Air force and had been brought back home a few months later and beside his wife and daughter and son fell silently to sleep and never woke up again. I hadn’t gone to see him but Billy said that when he saw him he didn’t mention his condition once and that he even got out of bed and sat with him on the back porch that looked out upon the open land and sky and they talked like nothing was wrong and laughed and said they’d see each other again. Bernie died a week later.
I hadn’t planned it this way but the opening to this story is very much dedicated to Bernie, and Billy, I hope you get safely back to Missouri and that your pesos will help me make it through the fall.
I had not told my mother or my love, Rosalie, that I had left my job. So I made fake work schedules and left the house and returned home at all the appropriate times with a lanyard I had kept from work hanging from my neck and hung it on the doorknob when I got home. During the day there were several options to occupy the eight-hour shifts. The town ran very much so due to the college and I would go up there and browse around the old books called the stacks and take a few with me out onto the grass of the quad and read them. I would read for hours. I got restless every now and then and would even read while I walked in circles up and down and back and forth the crisscrossing paths under the trees of the quad. This was great until I got caught for taking these books from the school at my own leisure and soon it was revealed that I was not a student there and they told me not to come back. Some days I would run along the riverside. I enjoyed long walks on the train tracks around the city with my headphones on and taking pictures. I always had my backpack on, even if nothing was in it, but usually there was a book and a pair of Rosalie’s ******* and on occasion I would take this out and close my eyes to smell them and I would miss her very much. We lived with a few towns between us and she was a very busy and dedicated young woman. She was working in nursing homes and taking care of home patients and going to school full time on top of it and doing clinicals and taking care of her little brother because it takes a lot sometimes for a man to be cured from his drinking habits, which was very much true in their fathers case and her mother was a wild and paranoid woman who refused to believe that her boyfriend was beating Rosalie’s little brother while she was away at work. So Rosalie took great care and love for her brother and also custody.
I, however, had not been so responsible with my life. When I came back from the Army it was not as a hero but I could tell a great hero’s story because I’d known them all but mostly they were characters in stories I’d read in the barracks, or secondhand tales given in extravagant detail during chow and none of them were true but they sounded quite exciting. It made the time at bars when I had gotten home less lonely because I could tell a tale in first person convincingly enough that many an old vet, with his own made up fantasies, would act like they believed me and would share their stories and we didn’t have to sit there thinking about the buddies we lost or the women whom had fallen out of love with us one time or another or the families we were avoiding. I liked going to the bars, but I wouldn’t have had anything to say if it weren’t for those stories.
I met Rosalie a month after having been discharged. She sat in Elizabeth’s bookstore and was studying for a class. I was with Billy at the time and we were outside smoking cigarettes when we saw her walk in.
“Did you see that?” Billy said. I saw her all right. She had gone inside and we were still sipping our coffees and smoking and I was still seeing her, no matter what else walked by or how pretty the sky was or the warmth of the sun.
“That’s a good girl right there,” Billy said, “not like most of these others we see out here, kid.” It annoyed me a little that Billy was still talking about her, egging me on a little. As I had said, I had seen her and he was disrupting my fantasizing and I had known she was a kind girl and I wanted to save my dream of her for a little while longer before I brought it to her.
“I know,” I said.
“Well, go and see about her then!”
“I’ll go”
I had no intention of letting her pass by but there was thunder rumbling in my chest and butterflies in my stomach and I had suddenly become cold even though it was sixty-five degrees out on the sidewalk and something was keeping me from standing. “I’ll have one more smoke and then I’ll go in for more coffee and see her then.”
“Tonto’s nervous! Ha ha ha!” Billy got a kick out of the thought and patted me on the back. “If you want,” He said, “I’ll go say hello for you.” He was still amused.
“You’re twice her age Bill,” I said, “she’d probably call the cops on your old ugly mug”
“The cops may be called because of how well endowed I am and she’ll be screaming and the neighbors will worry about her and call the cops on us”
Billy was always talking about his manhood and I never knew any good rebuttals because I was honest with myself and so I never had a response. I let him brag. All I knew is I had one and I knew it wasn’t large but none of the women I ever slept with ever said it was too small and they all enjoyed lying with me afterwards and talking quite a while before falling to sleep and sometimes the *** had been wild.
The cigarette was finished and I was still nervous but I didn’t want to hesitate any longer. I don’t even think she’d even seen me when she walked into the store.
I went inside and ordered a coffee and looked over to her. She was on a laptop and had a pile of books beside her and some papers and she looked up and our eyes met. I held the glance with her for a little longer than a moment. I was a little embarrassed and she was beautiful and I was wondering what my face looked like to her and if my eyes had been creepy but she lifted a corner of her lips and smiled before looking back to her work and then my shoulders relaxed and I realized I had held my breath. I laughed to myself at my own ridiculousness and let it go and then walked up to her and extended my hand and she took it with a smile and I looked dead into her beautiful hazel eyes again with confidence and we’ve been in love ever since.

The reason for my trip to Minnesota was to see my old friends from the Army: Grady and Hank. We hadn’t seen each other since I was discharged eight years ago and they reached out to me when they could but I wasn’t very good at keeping in touch with them. After I left the Army it was hard for me to talk to them. I felt I was missing out on something and I didn’t want to think of them dying without me and I didn’t like those feelings so I tried to pretend they didn’t exist but they kept me in the loop of things and always asked how I was doing no matter how well I stayed in touch with them or not. It meant much more than they’ll ever know that they did. So when they said they had both gotten out nothing was going to stop me from reconnecting with them. They said they were going to drive east to see me. I called them back.
“Let’s not hang around here in Maine,” I said, “it’ll be the middle of fall and there’s nothing to do around here. Instead of you guys coming all the way out here and then staying for a week let’s make the whole trip a seven-day adventure and you ******* can drop me off home when it’s over?”
“That sounds all well and good Russ but how the hell are you getting out here?”
“I bought a ticket, I’ll be there on the twenty-second of October at eleven.”
“That’s what I like hearing old pal!” Grady said through the phone, “Now that sounds more like the Russ I know. You’ll find me at the airport at eleven. I’ll bring a limousine with a bar and buy a couple of hookers for us”
“No hookers, Grady”
“Yes, hookers!” Grady said, “do you still do blow?”
“No”
“Good. Me neither. Honestly, I don’t do hookers anymore also. But it sounded like a proper celebration didn’t it?”
“It did.”
“Well, then its settled Russ. I’ll see you on the twenty-second of October at eleven PM sharp in a long white limo and I’ll bring the *****, the blow and the ****** and it’ll be like old times.”
“Sounds perfect Grady, I can’t wait.”
We hung up.

The plan was I would spend the night at Grady’s and the next morning we’d get Hank and we’d head for Chicago as soon as we could. One of their friends, Lemon, would be making the trip with us and would be there at Hanks when we got there in the morning. Lemon was an excellent shot with the rifle and a better guitarist and Grady told me I’d get right along with him. He told me he was at the range and the Sergeant was yelling in this black boys ear that he couldn’t shoot worth a ****.
“MY ******* GOT BETTER AIM BOY!” “I CAN HIT YOUR FAT UGLY MOMMA IN THE EYE AT TWICE THE DISTANCE” “YOU COULDN’T HIT PUBERTY IF I DROPPED YOUR ***** FOR YOU!”
The Sergeant, Grady said, went on and on at the top of his lungs yelling at this black guy and we all stopped and stared at him.
“As the Sarg kept hollering the kids rifle kept popping off shots at the target and you’d hear him grab another clip when the other ran out and reload it and then keep shooting but none of us could tell where the shots were going. The Sarg was so loud and the shots had such a rhythm all of us at the range stopped and looked over. There wasn’t a single bullet hole anywhere on the target except directly in the center where every bullet he had shot had gone through and nowhere else.
“Finally Lemon ran out of bullets and the Sarg quit hollering and he called him to attention.”
“Where did you learn to shoot a rifle Jefferson,” The Sergeant inquired.
“Sergeant, I have never shot a rifle before in my life”
“Do you think it’s funny to lie to your Sergeant?”
“No, Sergeant”
“So why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying Sergeant”
“What did you do before you enlisted, Private?”
“I worked on the farm for my father, Sergeant”
“At ease soldier, Staff Sergeant Dominguez would like to have a word with you.”
And that’s how Lemon went to training to become a ****** but he broke his leg in training and got sent home.
“Well ****,” I said, “He must be one helluva guitarist.”

We were to spend a day in Chicago and camp at the Indiana Dunes and then drive to Detroit and spend a day and camp there and then head to Cleveland and Pittsburgh and Philadelphia if we had the time and then go to Boston and they’d drop me off at the train the following morning and I’d go home from there. But all of that was still twenty days away and I was down on my luck and had to save every cent I possibly could for the trip. Rosalie was excited for me. She knew how much I hated being home and that I stayed around to be with her even as much as she said that I shouldn’t let her stop me from doing what I wanted with my life but I really had no clue but I did know that she was the love of my life. She was happy to hear of this adventure and supported me but she didn’t know how broke I was and I hid it well by cooking all of our meals with things at my mothers apartment or my fathers house depending on where she came during her once-a-week sleepovers. She was proud of me for how well I had been with managing my money. There’s nothing to it, I told her.
The summer had been one of the best summers I’d ever had. Rosalie and I got to spend a lot of time together in-between our own lives and every moment had been cherished. I worked often and hard for twelve bucks an hour for more than forty hours a week but had nothing to show for it now. I’d gotten in trouble with the law and the lawyer was costly and so were the fines and the bail, even though I got the bail back I had to dump it into my beautiful old truck and then some because I hadn’t taken the best of care of it. I also spent most of my money on dinners out with Rosalie and I liked buying her little brother things every now and then and I had a terrible habit of buying books. Also, I had a habit of going to the bars on weekends and I wasn’t a modest drinker.
The last paycheck I got was for five hundred dollars and I spent it on a room for a long weekend at an Inn by the ocean for Rosalie and I to end such a good summer properly. Money is for having a good time and is for others. That’s how I’ve always thought it should be spent. When you’re broke, it’s easy to find lots of good times in the simple endeavors and I enjoyed those but I also enjoyed getting away with Rosalie. So when I say I was down on my luck do not think I was unhappy about it, I had lots of good luck before I’d gotten down on it and Rosalie is possibly the best luck a young man could ever come across. Still, I only had one hundred dollars to my name and three 1988 pesos coins that I’m not sure will be worth the other hundred and with twenty days to go. It’s going to be pretty tight.

I want to talk about our time by the ocean now...

(c) 2015

Haberdashery hauberk harbinger harangue equilibrist, harpy harsh hast severities.
Inane inert inertia innate, juxtaposition maenad ethos affinities.
Putrid quasi queasy pathos, emanate imminent perdition acerbities.

Agnate aggregate anathema android amalgamated, predication contract.
Glutton paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts.
Ambidextrous amatory prelude amaze, analeptic adrenergic analgesia analytics extract.  Annex annul.  

Clairaudience clairvoyant omnipresence presage, omnipotent omnificent omniscience.
Pantheism parapet paradigm intuition, prognosticating prosthesis prediction.
Prolific profuseness profundity prosaic, nimbus nimiety nitty gritty, intrados rubato.

Venerable divinatory deity deify veneration, delineate demagoguery ecstasy, agonist agog.
Dream gleam cream seam beam team, serene ravine green gene careen, obscene demean.
Empiricise the existentialisms in the demagoguery of godhead aspiration.
Corporeal anaclitic apex inveterate embezzlement extroversion, acuity alacrity extortion.
Extraneous extemporaneous, ominous phenomena portrayal spontaneous synchronous, aorist actuator.

Endergonic protensive integration extrapolation interpolations investiture elicits.
Scenario synopsis synthesis syncopation, harmony rhymes rhythm.
Synchronous transition transposition interlude, summerial derivation cognition.
                                                      ­­                                                                ­ ­              
Irk-ness ire aerie altruism allegorical, autonomous avarice oscillating ostracism.
Pandemonium obdurate temerity impunity, impending preponderance onus, numinous illuminism quintessential frolic.
Amorous ardent argent arduous enamor endear, plenary putschist volatile phatic.
Conveyor controvert deft mesmeric deification deist dissertation.
Drastic premise portent pervasive embellish, elusive enhance enchant, engender enthrall.
Perpetuation euphenic euthenics, exude emote concoct recalcitrance regalia, irrefragable preternatural ne plus ultra prurient.
Vernaculars opulent myriad, aesthetic stratagem venial vexatious, astral projection conjuring levity apothegms.

Incite epistemological illuminism, accoutrements umbrage ultraism incognito trajectory extant.
Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive, heuristic manumission exigency.
Ostensible proclivity prodigious querulous, rambunctious repertoire rigmarole scenic schism sooth.
Ascribe arsenal crucial critical, abhorrent abstinence blatancy berserk, alacritous celerity brogue.
Ceremonial chicanery dynamism fealty, indefatigable incontrovertible ingenuity ingratiate inimical impugn.
Innovate integrity intricate invective convolution, licentious metaphor convection obeisance.
Splurge-ness spry sporadic sprawl, spurious staunch succinct stymie tacit, irate tirade treatise vehement escapade tedium.

Probity irascibly veracious audacity mendacity gumption.
Paphian peccavi preternatural proclivity gesticulation articulation prestidigitation.
Fantastication fantasia fabulist façade, glimmer glisten translucent refulgence.
Subliminally subjunctive nostalgic allusion analogies eidetic’s mnemonics.
Metaphysical mystique’s evolutionally metamorphic futurity fatidic.
Adroit agile nimble tactile acuity prescience capacity intrigue.
Unadulteratedly fornicatious fabrications, portentous ethereal etiquette.
Nose agnate somatology morphology metamorphic, cognition epistemology pragmatics.
Ontological ontogeny causality exigence integumence equivocal.
Innocuous noumenal verity ***** affectation intentions.

Adumbrate intimate obfuscate preterite rendition intimidate.
Logistical tactician spatiotemporal terrestrial equestrian telemetries, physicality’s terrene traverse tellurian terrain.
Vaunt-ness verve’s lucidly illusive, intrepid yare’s predilection predication.
Apriori a posteriori apostrophe shards shroud, innately inert inherency interstitial endemics.                  

Irk-ness ire Zen, graffiti mantra mantis, diminutive minutia iotas inductive interpolation asperities.
Hypercritically mitigating dialectics hypotaxis.
Vituperatively vociferous eerie strident irrefragable orotund  sonorous felicities.
Diacritical diction dharma apomixis.
Chutzpah panache spontaneous generation complicity, gambit alluvium aloof succor.

Demarcate mirador bartizan panorama, stalwart bastion bulwark tableau, dexterous gargoyle disguise gimmick camouflage.
Decipher coercible coalesce corrupt costume counselor chameleon charlatan chaperone entourage.
Cryptic evocative emulation scenarios siren skeptic, cynical demonic gremlin greaves curtilage.
Zesty zingy zippy zeal zenithal azimuth elaborate elliptical empathy endeavor entity entice.

Clambering clamorous clangor strategic systematic propagate prolific, wield wile treatise expose’.
Aural auspice austerity  axiom conscribe, perplex beleaguer beggary, coax cacophony clout, concatenate chronology.
Erumpent erudition evident evil evert, extol fervor flinty florid, fructify impromptu innuendo juncture.
Kinetic supremacy temporize tractive fluent, precious precess predetermined predatory predicament, gyro gyre.
Horizon hornswoggle huckster, hokey hoot ornery honkies.

Horologist hackamore relative rationality.
Decorum dastardly dazzle deceit, demolish demur, annihilate denigrate.
Armature arcade doughty, panacea parallax serendipity servant serenade.
Personification of sartorial perfection, picturesque visage of spectral grace.
Cosmic enigma rational relativity.

Housebreak huckster squabble brash, hovel huff.
Ghastly gruesome grotesque grisly groaty gnarly grotto grouch compunction.
Caustic cavernous celibate catatonic phonics, apex crux axis matrix cortex cephalic.
Blasphemous farcical fugue-ness and estranged ensemble orchestration acoustics.
Rendition: various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness.
Conjugation coercion junction function, adjunct conjunction conjecture.
Concoct deontology ontogeny, ontological enclitic osteopathy.
Anticipate angary amentia, tiercel theocracy.
Phrenic sensorium sentiment paragon tangible.
Covert aspersion avidity, coherent avid avarice, allegory allocate amatory prelude annex annul.

Tantamount telepathy tantalize talisman talesman, prerogative presumptive judicature.
Subpoena parameter perimeter peripherals prophylaxis protocol.
Real deal seal, sail bail, bailiff rake-ness rail.
Yoni yore yare, leeward lecher leer lingam, menagerie melee hyperbolic milieu thesis, métier quintessential fulham.
Dangle wrangle mangle jangle tangle angle.
Hysterically delirious zany nertsy bonkers bluster boggle.
Gyrate, austere askance obliquely, aspire assail askew.

Cosmic origins metamorphosis implosion contractions revision, blond entropy catalyst.
Cataclysm catastrophe holocaust trauma, inefficacy ineffable expiate.
Chaos cognizant conceive dialectic dictates in extremis extremity meld nuance.
Cryptic cipher circuit citadel clairvoyant sequitur.
Cajole fictitious fiery finesse, invoke fulmination gouts clout, curtilage endeavor iterative itinerary.
Ersatz fiat fulcrum fulgurous indemnify indigenous infernal infidel iniquitous.
Electroacoustic ciphony  Electra complex lore, occipital ubiquity synch.
Psychosomatic psychokinesis cybernetics, penumbral platitude platonic proxy photic.
Assimilate stigma perspicacious, astute asunder atman pulchritudinous.
        
Decadent arrogant pompously bombastic blatant flagrant chaparral.
Diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abruptness.
Swarthy beastly antithetical anathema ******* belligerent, savvy irate berserk-ness tirade.
Ulterior aghast agitator incongruous dire, perdurable peremptory primacy arbitrate zealot.
Cantankerously sorcerous insidiously sinister alchemy cauldron, pernicious visceral pathogenic, virulence truculence.
Ideational hideously horrible horrendously heinous ghastly abysmal abjection.
Perpetuity pervade rampart ransack oblation erogenous scarp lambent actuarial arbitrage.
Exserted protuberant pseudopodia actuator, odious aorist militantly mercenary.

Wingspread wiry wiseacre wherewithal rapacity, implicit important juxtaposition.
Machismo equilibrist machinations, kinesiology kleptomaniac knell physique.
Ribaldry rigmarole rhubarb, risqué rive rollick.
Demeanor kamikaze kerf, megalomania misanthropies modus operandi genocidal xenophobic.
Heredity heritage heresy legacy, pseudonym multifarious nefarious nemesis.
Sepulcher stratagem pantheism parapet paradigm, psychosis neophyte, paragon proselyte.
Pilferous wheedling finagler, plunderous pillaging usurper, longevous loquacity lottery.
Rhapsody rhetoric rote raconteur newfangled nocturnal nonchalant sycophant.
Morose morsel moribund, lurid luscious lyricism lucidity lucrative.
Creative cleaver crafty cunning furtive sneaky stealthy connive.
Aphorism euphemism hegira to xanadu carousing marauder syllogism.
Swell surge flow flux craw crux, virago monad chaos character charisma.
Heuristic cavalier humeral, meager demonstrative anarchy iconoclasm, apropos ergo ipso-facto.
Plenary plenipotentiary omniscience presage, omnipotent directive ubiquity emanations.
Nous agnate ontological ontogeny, exegesis peroration.
Abeyance, exotically ****** quixotic ecstatically emphatic fanatic.
Orchestration rendition unicorn railway mainsail, awry askew askance.

Canny cogent fecund erudite sagacious sequacious conjuring mentality introjection conjugation coercions.
Avant-garde temporal abstract, scenario synopsis eclectic synectics.
Synaptic syntax syndrome aspersion, quagmire quandary poshly plush.
Physicality ***** pictorial, picturesque glyph, debauchery deviant profane ***** vicarious assertion exorbitance.
Mystical silhouette sojourn consortium sabbat conclave liaison, soiree tryst rendezvous symposium excursion compendium.
Incarnate cephalic phantasmagoria proximity parameter phantasm epitomize transitive transcendental syntactic semantics.
Resplendent radiant ephemeral effulgence translucent incandescent luster effluence, reflectively refractive azure opulence effusion.
Contentious pretentiously extravagant eccentric intransigent pedantic antics.
Guidon guile homogenous hovering imagination immaturity, exogamy incorporeity ideologies.
Pique poignant piquant puissant quiescence, obstreperously abstruse vagary plausibility’s cause.
Vivid intangible impetus instinct intrigue, livid lurid allusion.
Autonomous preterite discrepancy amendment emendations, transcendent accession ascensional in absentia expurgation exculpation.

god... i can't believe i'm making comments
about this...
but i am.... i'm drunk and rowdy,
not sober & sane reality makes
point at this point...
        in ref. to cheryl tweedy...
"mum shaming"?!
                           not being able to breast
feed in public?
          these critics...
they are not inclined to make a fetish
out out lactating females?
  no? none of these ******* never had
the fetish quest of desiring to drink
milk from the **** of the mother,
so they would not become jealous over
the baby? no? so they jumped head-strong
into the latex gimp-suit fetish?!
handy...
        why would i mind some rat
of a leader worth the vermin of a party
known as the UKIP not bail out?
over a cleavage frenzy?!
             sure sure... **** things up...
bail out... and then jump ****...
good tactic...
                much applause...
******* wankers...
                      i did make one mistake
in my life... believing a 19 year old
Russian girl... to stick to her guns...
and take the ******* contraceptive pills
she promised to take...
i still don't know whether she was...
whatever the hell she was aiming at...
******? i don't mind the rubber...
i'd like some more...
in a latex suit, preferably...
i can't, lie...
   ms. amber is doing the polygraph
"thing" again...
                             i'll lie when i'm
not having fun, then i'm not telling
the truth...
  huh? which milk?
goats' milk... Behemoth's mother
good ****, counters every superseding
cover version of... cow...
              goats' cheese over feta...
you name it... goat has it covered...
creamy yum-yum...
            why would i lie to  begin
with? lying is a focus for serving
an imbalance for both the rhythm
and the tempo...
                              just play me some
drum & bass (base... might as well
throw this one in... bāß)...
i actually hope more mothers
feed in public...
hell... more cleavage...
like... an aversion to seeing a niqab
20 seconds later...
         what?!
thank god some people in Europe
still persist with donning their
sanity kippahs...
         what would the western world
do without them?!
     frown?
            or convert?
         i have actually found an escape
route from the excesses of
*******... the potential bound
to the inanimate picture of a revealing
posit of a cleavage...
   basically a woman donning
an *** on her chest...
and her ******* where her *** ought
to be...
      like fine art...
                     no no no, no thank you
Ms. Frankenstein, i'm not into
your ******- *******...
          but a woman breast-feeding
in public?
                     what's the problem?
you jealous that you're not suckling?
i bet that's it... ha ha...
that must be it...
   not playing out your fetish...
but i mean... like foreplay...
*****-******* and what not...
again... the sunday times
style supplement...
        the life of dolly column...
topic? relaxation...
         how do you guys relax...
one reply reads...
    oral ***; it's the only thing that works.
boyfriends should be incentive-
(please revise the adverb)
           to do it, government- (again...
-ally what?)
well... well well well...
you know what?!
you really wanna know? or are you
just kidding...
all that foreplay begot me thinking...
how about i... play milking
the cow?
       why should the baby
only **** on the ****?
         ooh... double-whammy-mummy
fetish... imploding spiral!
ooh! double-whammy-mummy!
**** that fetish outstretch of
                   role-play *******...
when lactating... let me suckle...
i want to erase the fact that i was
child in the minds of my mother and
father...
i want to be conscious of being
an infant...
                          i want to see
what it feels like to suckle at what...
my father did in a counter
variation of the biological function...
what? Nigel: Nigh-Gel ain't so hot
now... is he?
                      if i was going to father
a child... i'd like to taste what
the child was having...
so we're not competing for
first spot of: mummy's littler helper.
          
i should seriously stop reading
female columns of female orientated
supplements / magazines...
no, really...
              this is worse than ****...
then again... breast-feeding in
public?
          what could be worse...
scenes of Muslims decapitating
veterans, more roughly than
a butcher aiming at caressing
a torso of meat with a toothed knife?

Behind all of the glamour
Hidden by the glitz
Under all the spray on tans
And distracted by the ****

Lies a Vegas like no other
Not the one you wish to see
The other side of Vegas
Has a cost, it isn't free

A parade of homeless people
Far off strip are daily seen
Heading for a bed and meal
Away from where the grass is green

The locals all accept it
It's a darker part of town
Where there's fewer painted smiles
On this Las Vegas clown

Every other building
Is boarded up or framed
In steel bar covered windows
With no winners at the game

The goal of all the walkers
Is to get to the next day
They can't afford to leave here
They can't afford to stay

Each walkway full of hawkers
Selling water for a buck
Passed out drunks all sleeping
Hoping you will toss a buck

Some saints and many sinners
Came to find the life they lead
Is not the one they looked for
When they came here to fill their greed

Don't look behind the curtain
You will not like what you will find
The darker side of Vegas
Is not one that's in your mind

A parade of desperate people
Walk the streets each night alone
Past the empty buildings
Pass the bail bonds, guns and loans

To truly see Las Vegas
You have to venture off the strip
Into a world of darkness
And in truth, it's a short trip

Behind the glitz and glamour
Away from where the tourists go
Is the dark side of Las Vegas
That only few will ever know

1969, one voice sent the world's radios to dancing because we were passing the torch from dreaming to reality as we took to the soft landing
That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind
and for just a second, everyone alive got to feel like Einstein but
I bet you as Armstrong looked down he didn't picture the strife and denial of life to so many in sight 40 years later
street riots and technology gone violent controlling the fears of children peering through glass stained in dust as nightmares rush passed the idea of life, crushing everything in sight
we even wrote it in our constitution
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.
but you'd have to sell your soul to bail from a life ended where money knows no measure
and you can not tell me that shooting an innocent human on mistake is neither cruel no unusual
but the constitution has turned into a wall
to push people so far back on that they couldn't turn and run
or read what was suppose to be a guarantee in the land of the free
and that's just the beginning
we're denying people from entering a country for body modification
when we've been altering our appearance longer than we have had boundaries to deny people from
because we're still leveling cities like we did when we were daydreaming and knocking block castles down
because we're still enslaving humans because of their genetics
but behind sheer curtains, it's all ok
because if you don't see then there's no need to worry
it's easy to ignore it when you have comments and feeds to read  before you give the world news a chance at your attention
but what i've never understood
is how innovation and careful thinking placed a device in your hand
and all you came to do with it was carefully craft a 140 character string of *******
but i guess it goes to show
like our constitution
that though manifested to be great for the people by the people
at the end of the day, we're still too self obsessed to look at the rest of the picture
we're still too afraid to peer down at the entire world
so, Neil, I'm sorry, one giant step for man but mankind hardly remembers

I tore the fabric of space
Interrupting my affectionate stalking
Spurts of longing, interspersed
with spasms of premature *****

In vain, hankering to attain that next level rush
Oh you're a ***** girl aren't you
That's when I was discovered...

Her shrieks royally flushing my cheeks with shock
-Superseded by pallid chagrin
I fumble to bail,
Pants entrenched around my ankles

Premeditative,
Of absent-mind, in haste
Prime directive a method of escape
Evasion failing
Detection:
Imminent

Reflecting a grim lack of circumspection,
accursed *******
Trying to conceal my turgid *******

Her father particularly beyond reason
And not fond of my indecency for his daughter
Proceeds pummeling me to death with my beloved binoculars

Devoid of clairvoyance;
I am coincidentally sent
outward toward oblivion
Bon voyage through the portal
Falling facefirst into an abysmal wormhole

Its then I voyaged backward through time
To the moment of Creation
And witnessed the universe
**** itself from naught to existence
Spewing forth such cataclysmic splendor

I Will Never Give Up on You  
By: Miranda Martinez-Perez  

I've  been to a place "they" would consider "the top,"
And it felt great... that was.. until I fell.
It was a long way down. Would it hurt? I thought not;
And I was wrong, cause it hurt like H*ll.

I've hit rock bottom with an awful THUD.
Took me a while to realize I was still alive.
I wondered if it'd even be worth it to get back up..
Then pondered if I should just accept this is how I would die.

But something inside of me wasn't ready to fail.
I wasn't  ready to give up the fight.
In my mental prison, I chose to make bail.
I can't change my wrongs, but I can make them right.

So I got up, though it took all that I had left inside,
Went to that place that for so long I feared.
I knew the first one with whom I had to make things right,
that one was the one looking back in the mirror.

"I'm sorry," I said, "your expectations were not too much.
I admit I've just let myself get in the way.
I never took it into consideration that I alone am enough.
And all the extras in life were only for show and play.

You are perfect, I love you, and I am going to change.
I don't deserve for you to believe me, but I swear it's true."
The response I got.. I never expected to hear MYSELF say..
That was, "I will never  give up on you."

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree ******
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking  
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of the law has no top and no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears

"Everything happens, happens for good"
The lie people told us in our childhood
You only believe it, if it ends well
If not, it's just another sad story to tell.

It is difficult to judge people close to us, by their needs
Sometimes, we let them get away with horrible deeds
Is that really fair? Do they really care?
About us? Who help them when in need
Without thinking about ourveselves, without any greed.

Circumstances change people time to time
Some turn out to be cruel, some work hard to earn a dime
Emotions rule us, they decide how we be with others
We either act like we hate them or we love them like brothers.

While overcoming problems, we either succeed or fail
The ones who fail stop trying and feel frail
Get inspired by the blind people who succeed to read Braille
Difficulties storm us and sometimes we decide to bail
But we don't realize we have a strong enough ship to sail.

I only want company in my bed
as my drunken self fights sleep.

I need a release, I'm trying,
As every cut hits deep.

We all bleed red, a common color,
We all stand back and watch each other suffer.

I just really need saved,
come be my hero,
it takes a lot to be brave.

Come for me, a chariot I await,
For this place I am in I cannot help but hate.

I need you, I hate to say,
but I have been waiting day by day..

Come bail me out of here,
take me away,
And promise me you'll stay.

Describing a User Trial
(a Section Commander's story)

In Vietnam I most enjoyed the ambush because it is static.
And if you use your head you can **** from comfort without the need
For fire-and-movement which is a physical business at the best of times.
And in ambush you are often placed as part of a group, without responsibilities; Because they are assumed by that particular ambush commander,
Which is a relief and relaxing.

Most ambushes are triggered at night, but this one happened by day.
It was company sized, and memorable for other reasons too.
3 Section, my section, was deployed in three groups like an elbow:
Two being part of the killer-group and the other one part of flank-protection.
That's where I was, on the flank.
It was the Dry-Season.

Although it was a good killing-ground I was concerned by the
Lack of cover to our particular front; that is the part of the ambush for which I was
Responsible. My concern was the track because it curved about my section's elbow, And we, the flank-protection, could not see more than six feet through the thick, Secondary growth that grew between it and us.
It made for good concealment, but would never hinder an assault.

The plan was that the Platoon Commander would trigger the ambush with his M16.
He would know when to do this because our Platoon Sergeant had been given
Some sort of box dial, attached by wire to two metal spigots. These were
Buried in the ground one hundred metres to either flank of our position to transmit, They said, the ground vibration of the enemy's approach. It was on trial and had not Been used before. A neat devise for early-warning we supposed.

Our Claymores were sited to cover the killing-ground.
They were to be detonated so soon as the Platoon Commander fired his weapon.
3 Section's mines were under the control of lance-corporal Frank Chambers.
He was clever. He could compile workable, section piquet lists, with staggered sentry times. Try doing that in the rain. I never could.
So I was content with my lot, excepting this patch of secondary growth to my front.

As I remember it the day was hot and very lazy. We had a man alert in every group
And the guns were manned. Otherwise we sprawled at ease, hunting shade,
Fantasy, mind-escape. Sergeant Maloney will give plenty of warning;
Remember the o-group? Those spigots live on the end of one hundred metres of wire And will transmit the ground vibration of any approaching footfalls.
One hundred metres is a fine, relaxing distance - we thought.

But then it happens; without warning the day erupts:
With a shattering, terrifying, and continuing roar the daylight turns black.
A rolling, cloud of grey dust puts out the Sun. Something hot plinks my side. There is Too much noise. And in the raging dark my mind begins to scream:
'What happened to the ****** signal, John? The ******* early warning'.
And I begin to hurl hand-grenades as high and as far to my front as I can:

Take up the grenade.
Rotate the safety bail (Why didn't we have these in Australia?).
Ease out the pin, rise up; draw back the arm,
Let fly the lever. Hurl the grenade.
Count two, three, crouch, take up the grenade.

Ingleburn might raise its hands in horror but my air-bursting hand-grenades
Are based on the premise that we have engaged a small, advance party of the enemy.
And I want to deter it's main-body forming up on the other side of my bit of
Scrub then assault through it from the dead ground.
And remember we are blind. Hence, take up the grenade,
Rotate the safety bail, ease out the pin, etc.

Memory has the action lasting many hours, a long, long time.
But in reality it must have been all of two minutes before the noise begins to falter And the echoes of the guns slowly fade away.
And the World, unmoving in the awful silence,
Slowly turns to white
Beneath the settling dust.

Through the quiet, distant voices, begin to murmur.
‘Cease-fire’ is ordered and the day resumes.
I pass the order on then change my magazine.
Frank comes over with the Section's casualty and ammunition count.
No one has been hurt but we have used a lot of ammunition.

Frank reports 'three "Nogs" moving into the killing-ground.'
One noticed a claymore and Frank says he had no option but to fire.
He is nonchalant, unexcited about the killing.
When he has gone I lean into the shade of a tree and light up a cigarette while Reflecting on the body out there alone and still, and sweating in the Sun.

Finishing my cigarette I go to find our Platoon Commander. He is with the Major.
At CHQ, while Ronny Jarvis curses (we did use a lot of ammunition),
Guy Baggot inspects my ****** side with interest. 'A bit more to the right
Would have given you a ****** good scar.' He says.
What happened to the early warning device? The dial, the cable and the spigots
Go out with the next chopper. We never hear of them again.

Protesters loot and riot
In the name of peace and quiet
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

Tanks roll down the street
As people beg for food to eat
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

Tear gas fills the air
Bodies lay everywhere
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

Innocent people dying
Uncle Sam keeps crying
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

Lady Liberty passes out
The Eagle decides to bail out
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

America has gone to Hell
Politicians say "Oh well"
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

America is burning
Why can't we stop the hurting?
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

Freedom dies
As a nation cries
Welcome to small town America everybody
Why don't you come and stay?

If I had
Three
Wishes, I’d wish for
A unicorn
Nice skin
And you

If I could live on only
Three
Things, I’d survive on
Lemonade
Lasagne
And you

If I could only watch
Three
Things when I turn on the television, I would watch
That fireplace background
Futurama
And you, even if you are a runway model

If I was stuck forever on a desert island and could only bring
Three
Things, I’d bring
Food
Water
And you

If there was a zombie apocalypse and I had only
Three
People I could trust, I’d choose
A ninja
Chuck Norris
And you

If I could only cheat at
Three
Things in MAS*H, I’d change
To the mansion
To have less than ten kids
And to be with you

If I was in jail and I somehow got
Three
Phone calls instead on one, I’d call
My dad who would bail me out, maybe
Chuck Norris who would break me out when my dad refuses to pay the bail
And you, just to say hi because you’re broke and can’t pay the fee

If I had to choose
Three
Of my celebrity crushes, I’d pick
Johnny Depp, duh
B.D Wong, just for his voice in Mulan
And you

If I had
Three
Works of art in my room, I’d have
A stolen Picasso painting, shhh, look don’t tell
That painting where that guy gets knocked out by the apple
And you, chiselled into diamonds

If I somehow got amnesia and the doctors could only restore
Three
Of my memories, I’d want to remember
My name
That time when we killed those zombies with Chuck Norris and the ninja
And you

If I could only say
Three
Words, I’d say
Is
This
Creepy?

I'm too old now to die young
But not old enough to get rid of my self doubt
I have many years on my record
But if I got arrested, would you still bail me out?

I'm too old now to die young
Too young to have these tragic thoughts
I have many years on my record
But I'm getting tired of walking around with a heavy heart

I'm too old now to die young
But not old enough to think that every tear's been shed
I have many years on my record
I wish I didn't feel like all those years were wasted

I'm too old now to die young
But not old enough to get rid of my self doubt
I have many years on my record
But if I got arrested, would you still bail me out?

i can hear it in the way your voice sounds.

the way you laugh,

the way i can see your smile through the speakers knowing that big heart carries worries and hardships that i will never know.

like quiet refrigerator humming, i can feel the pit of your stomach in mine.

i can see the way the ivy of the ocean spills and rushes around your neck the climbing waters rooting into you.

after the quiet days you will give me a meter and i can feel my heart start running miles, reaching for you,

trying to figure out some way to pick up all of this broken glass so you won’t get cut on the sharp edges.

i’m trying to save this sand that is spilling from my chest into my overflowing hands, so we can build a home together.

trying to bail the water out of the hull of your ship so the salt won’t touch your lips,

because

the ocean is deep and wide and so, so much blue but it isn’t enough to even try
and keep me from you.
i will swim out until im so tired im gasping,

so i can carry you out of the deep, brush the jellyfish from your hair, and whisper to the starfish that have found home in your eyes til they slide away back to their tidepools.

i will kiss the salt away and smother you in fresh water and warm hands to hold.

i know you are sailing in rough waters, the waves beat against my door and it makes me sea sick knowing you’re so far out.

i will turn on the lighthouse and stretch my arms as far as they will go, reaching to pull you back safely to the shoreline,

reaching to bring you home.
​

The Explorer

“Good evening everyone!  We are here outside the home of missing serial ****** and kidnapper, Chris Morris.
I’m here with my beautiful girlfriend Rachel and I’m sure being so close to Chris Morris’s house here on 21 Hoover Ln. is making her *******
tingle with excitement at the idea of the unknown we are walking into here.
A cop car has been parked outside the home for the past few hours now and has yet to disappear.
We have been waiting to venture inside just in case cops are inside doing another search,
but based on both long distance and short distance research
of the house and area, we are convinced no one is inside.
The house is dark, no movement has been detected so it’s time to decide,
go inside and explore, or bail and go home.
I’ve been salivating at the chance to explore this house and I’m pretty sure at the mouth I’m beginning to foam,
so inside we are about to go!
I’m your host Andrew Pittman and what we are about to find inside, well no one really knows.
What we discover will be caught on my camera for all of you guys to witness for yourselves.
We are going to video tape the secret room where Chris kept his victims locked up for his own sick ****** pleasure.
Whatever else we may document on this camera will be added treasure.
Here we go, on a grand endeavor,
to document and bring to you this dangerous and risky adventure.”

The cop car sitting outside the house still has me worried.
If a cop is inside combing through the building for evidence, he has not been in a hurry.
We have been parked waiting outside for a good three hours now and we can’t wait any longer.
What exactly are we walking into, well that’s the dilemma we currently ponder.
We approach the house cautiously remaining on our tip toes in order to remain silent and move undetected.
I look over to Rachel, she has to be as nervous as I am, but her face doesn’t look affected.
She’s smiling and in control of her emotions.
My face is a nervous wreck stuck in a monotone blank stare almost as if it is frozen.

We stop our approach at the front door and gather our wits for a moment.
I give Rachel a quick kiss in admiration of her determination, unbroken.
I place my hand on the door **** and hold my breath
as I turn the **** slowly opening the door, exposing a world that feels as if it’s plagued by the black death.
I was secretly hoping the door was going to be locked and we would have to find an alternate route inside or bail,
but I guess inside we go in risk of going to jail.

Once inside, we close the door behind us as quietly as possible to avoid detection if anyone is indeed inside.
I’m instantly hit in the gut with a feeling that someone has recently died.
The house is dark, very dark and quiet, too quiet.
Rachel grabs me on the shoulder, her face is excited.
She can’t believe we are actually inside the home of Chris Morris, no butterflies are swarming around in her stomach.
I, however, feel as if I’m standing on the edge of a mountain and am about to plummet.

I notice the bookcase in the living room still moved aside showing off the entrance to the hidden room.
We will explore there last as that will be the last scene my viewers are allowed to consume.
It will be the ****** of this film after all.
In the comments section below, you guys can debate that call.
Rachel moves ahead of me into the house and stops at the bedroom.
Her mouth drops nearly to the floor; her eyes fill with a sense of doom.
She looks my way beginning to shake, tears beginning to fall from her eyes.
She tells me that we have a problem and I can tell by the horror in her ****** expression that is no lie.

I make my way next to Rachel and look inside the bedroom.
What I witness more closely resembles a tomb.

With the camera still rolling, “What in God’s good name happened here?”

A naked man lies apparently dead on the ground.
A police uniform lies scattered on the floor; we may have found our cop that belongs to the patrol car out front.
A woman is handcuffed to the bed but is not moving.
If this was consensual or not, right now there’s no telling.

I approach the woman and touch her on the face to see if I get a response.
It only takes a few seconds for her to respond.
Her eyes shoot open in panic, she must have fallen asleep.
I’m not sure what we’ve stumbled upon, but whatever it is, it’s deep.

“Are, are you real?  Please tell me you’re real!’

“Yes, we are real.  What happened here?”

“That man on the floor is, or should I say, was a cop.
He pulled me over near the intersection of Bradberry and Hilltop.
He planted ******* on me and told me if I didn’t play along with his game that things wouldn’t end well for me.
He cuffed me and placed me in the back of his patrol car so I couldn’t flee,
then brought me here in order to **** me.
He snorted line after line after line of ******* off of my ***,
then as he began to **** me, he overdosed and died right there on the floor.
Honestly, I thought I was done for.
He died and I was handcuffed to this bed and no one had a clue anyone was even inside this godforsaken house.
If you don’t mind, can you find the keys for these cuffs and get me unchained from this bed?”

I agree to the request and take the keys for the cuffs off of the officer’s belt.
This is quite the unforeseen situation we’ve been dealt.
I take the cuffs off of the woman who gets up and hugs me for freeing her as Rachel looks on with a jealous stare at a half-naked woman hugging me.
I mouth towards her, “she’s just happy to be free.”

“So if you don’t mind me asking, what brought you two into this house in the first place?
I honestly had myself convinced I would never see another living face.”

“We are explorers who like to explore and document our adventures in abandoned or just down right creepy places,
and what’s the top place to hit up and explore right now?
Well…Chris Morris’s house!
So here we are to explore and document our findings.
Didn’t expect to find you and a dead cop here though.
We will cover up your identity in the film, just so you know.
O, and don’t call the cops and report this when you leave.
We will do that for you after we achieve
what we have come here to achieve.”

“Regardless of why you are here, I’m happy you guys showed up.
You just saved my life.
I won’t report this to the police, I’ll leave that for you to do.
This place does give me the creeps so that might be a cue
to not hang around here to **** long,
so do what you got to do and get the **** out!”

With that said, the woman departs leaving Rachel and I alone in the bedroom with a dead cop turned ******.
Time to find out just who this man is.
I locate the dead man’s wallet and take out his I.D. to identify just who he is for my future viewers.
Anthony Armstrong is the man’s name, what a loser.
I recognize the name.
He’s the cop that lead the searches of this house for both of the missing girls but was unable to find either of them each time.
He had everyone fooled thinking he had a heart of gold, instead it’s made out of slime.
The ****** wasn’t even able to locate the girls in this house when he executed the search warrants.
It took outside help for them to be located.
An anonymous tip lead to the location of the girls.
That must have been embarrassing.
And this Chris Morris guy is still missing!
He could be anywhere, even somewhere nearby, but he probably fled the country to avoid going to prison.

“Did you get that viewers?
This cop failed to located the two missing girls who were being held right here in this house, and was only able to finally locate them after an anonymous tip came in alerting the police to their location.
Then, when they arrived to save the girls, Chris was already gone and they have been unable to locate him ever since.
Police work at its finest, I’d say.”

Rachel and I, now tired of being in the same room as a dead corrupt cop, decide to finish up the adventure and check out the hidden room Chris used to keep the girl’s prisoner.
It would be nice to find some evidence pointing to Chris’s whereabouts so he’s finally able to face the executioner.

We exit the bedroom and make our way into the living room where the bookcase that hid the room is still moved exposing the hidden room for us just to walk into.
This is the moment we have all been waiting for, I hope you all enjoy the view.

We walk past the bookcase and enter into the hidden room,
where we are greeted with a nerving sense of gloom.
The room is even darker than the rest of the house.
Hanging on the wall is a skimpy school girl blouse.
The pervert was a teacher and I guess had a fetish for his students.
He probably brought them here to punish them for being truant.
Yeah I see it now, he would bring them here to punish them in hopes they would begin to show improvement,
but all he would do was leave them with their virginity’s ruined.

This room feels like a dungeon.
If I had to choose a way to die, I would have to go with being bludgeon.
I can’t imagine being ******* here, ***** and tortured for months on end.
This man’s actions, no one is able to defend.
The one poor girl gave birth to a baby just after being rescued from here.
That had to be one hell of an ordeal to endear.
After being ***** and abused for months on end,
she finally is rescued just to give birth to a baby that will remind her of her abuser for the rest of her life.
What a cruel ******* fate.
I hope one day she can find a good, loyal mate.

Rachel whispers into my ear…
o…I guess she is dead now…
murdered by the other girl who was kept here…
she was killed by the cops and is dead as well…
**** this adventure keeps getting darker as we go on.

Anyways, the room contains no windows as one would expect.
The one room has a table with straps and I swear it still smells of young ******* being wrecked.
*** toys still line the walls of the room.
I hope one day all of this is used as evidence in the courtroom.

The second room is just a chain attached to a wall.
The one girl reportedly spent many long hours chained up in here with nothing but a hard floor curled up in a ball.
She was drugged for her obedience or so the media has reported.
This is sickening, I wish there was some way it could all have been thwarted.
Chris really does need to be caught and forced to pay for his actions.
He needs to be punished in a merciless fashion.
I would love to have a few shots at him myself.
I would turn his final moments on the flat Earth into a brutal farewell.
This room, and house overall in general, really gives me the creeps.
I can’t imagine staying overnight here to sleep.
A constant, cold, nerve inducing chill crawls up and down my spine.
This place should be demolished and be covered by the local paper as their front-page headline.

Having enough footage between the dead police officer, cuffed to the bed, seminude girl and this godforsaken hidden room, I turn around to head back out of the room to leave.
I believe I accomplished everything I came here to achieve.
I stop in my tracks as standing in front of me at the entrance to the hidden room are a man and a woman.
The woman has a gun pointed directly at my head, wanting to pull the trigger I’m sure, to insert into my brain an life ending bullet.

The man speaks, “What are you two doing in this house?”

“We mean no harm, just came here to explore this house a little bit, to get a bird’s eye view of the set Chris Morris used to torture those poor girls.
This room is beyond disgusting and makes us want to hurl.
We found a dead cop in the bedroom and a young woman who was handcuffed to the bed who we released and has already called the police to come here, so I suggest we all make our way out of here before we get in real trouble.
Once the cops arrive and see their friend dead in that room, they won’t be in a mood to sit around with us to ******* and chuckle.”

The man motions to the woman to lower her gun.

“My name is Nathan and this is my friend Amanda.
We didn’t mean to startle you like this.
We got suspicious of the cop car that’s been parked out front for far too long and got suspicious after your car showed up and remained parked out front for an extended period of time now.
This isn’t a place for people to be hanging around anyhow.
We stumbled upon the dead cop as well so I suggest we do get moving and leave here immediately before trouble happens to stumble upon us.
I see you have a camera and like to video tape your explorations, so I have something I would like us to discuss.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, my good friend Dr. James Allen Burke is conducting the most groundbreaking experiment of his life right now as we speak and could use a camera man to capture the moment on tape.”

“James Allen Burke, I’ve heard of him!  Wasn’t he the world-famous brain doctor that was forced into retirement due to trying to conduct very controversial experiments and surgeries on people?”

“Yes, however his experiments have not stopped, he just moved them underground and out of the spot light.
He lives right next door to this house, as do I on the opposite side, so how about you come over with me and use your camera for some good?  I promise you the man won’t bite.
You will be recording an event that will rewrite the history books as we know them.
Too pass on this offer would be mighty dumb.
So, what do you say?
Will you come with us?”

I look over to Rachel who appears unsure of what we should do.
I smile and wink towards her also feeling uneasy about this since this offer just came out of the blue.
But if Nathan is right and I’ll be recording a massive historic event, I can’t pass that up.
Worst comes to worst, we will thank them for their time and leave if this turns out to be a bust.

“Ok we will come with you.”

“Great, let’s get moving!”

Evil & crime so predictable & stale.
Stupid how arrested suspects get bail.
Convicted when their victims tell.
Prison is where some stay & are jailed.
They have to communicate by mail.
Sometimes their focus goes in another direction.
Where probation happens after correction.

Child & spousal abuse, drug use, & rehab that is no use.
History repeats
Wives & children still get beat.

Their isn't always a Superman or Batman to be your hero.
With a sword or crossbow.

Details of armed robbery , drug dealing & smuggling.
Stabbings & muggings.
On the inside homosexual love with cuddling.
Human trafficking & prostitution.
Violating amendments & constitutions.

They are how they are from how they were raised.
If their victims could speak from the grave
Or had they been saved.
They could explain & describe how their rapists & killers behaved.

Male & females do their time.
Years in custody for their crimes.
Seriousness of their offenses vary.
Some educate, get jobs, or marry.
Behind bars is where violence belongs.
To be punished for all that they did wrong.

Some from death row are now dead.
Similar to the wildlife in a zoo behind bars they get fed.