I’m being charged for –! SYSTEMIC poetry? what with?? No I plead not guilty! My defense..PARDON my indulgence (a review*),

my defense,MY DEFENSE is self-evident, there’s NO system (fact-checked by Hegelian’s), NO SYSTEM! People who write proper books and expose stuff and make the NYT best-seller list – pardon my theoretically systemic ignorance – their’s a system, mine is not (1) Does not depend how you define IS. They start, there’s a hook, and build-up to..the premise, –so far so good

“Get off my premises!” ~Clint

Dad’s flag. Man walked on the moon..right??

then, they fill in all the fine details,–system-at-i-cal-ly! which, at best, mirror my own direct and disgusting duplicate experiences in all the particular’s with/or at the hands of, The Government..TEN-4! (2) predictable (YAWN) That’s why POETRY! oh give me a pome where the buffaloes’ rome..Me, (3) me, mice elf, end eye,EYE/wee, Oui-oui! (my pronouns) just wanted to scrape bottom of the pot to get the bare, charred re-reheated left-over’s, the content! shall we say, onto the page, —0-0! so we won’t bore you with details 0NLY the viscera of Batman like episodes..the dailies, ZOWIE! reflecting kulture-wars in the headlines, dog-food factory’s, Hoo-hah! and none of the dragged-out hurt feelings, agonize screams about social injustice! by the socially unjustified (wieners, all..and), >”Oh! the humanity..” and all of the rest. In udder wirds, who don’t love a good, juicy, thick! soul-stirring sortie in the enchanting liquid realm of a true poem fancier’s typewriter ejaculations,

“Tick-tack, tack..Tack! Tack! Tack!”

wadded sheets on the floor, byproducts of the alpha-dog, me..BET! me dusty old ribbon wielded at, The Machine, ha-ha! all night. I rest my (premature) case there. On the page (pardon my systemic French..grammar! grammar, grammar, oh! dear grammar, –she knows not what she doo’s, –doo-doo’s, “C’est la vie!” And mind, you’ll avoid the salacious unpleasantness stepping on a sleeping sting-ray, possibly catching it in the calf, MOO! by shuffling your flippers over the wet sand, “Get off my sand.” keeping a leather eye out for your comeuppance, coming up quick! blowing bubbles hard as you can, matey..oy).

Now! the government. The government, the government,THE GOVERNMENT! try and rhyme that, you scurrilous person, or persons unknown and out to get me,(shmo)lest we forget! (how to rhyme..rhyme – rhymes with mime – and all their ilk..ilk, ilk; ilk and silk, drink your milk, eck cetera) Okay! so you-all lacking nothing by way of systemic relief in the matter, and instruction’s, thereto, –‘One-step’ Beyonce! here’s how the sci-en-tif-ic way; or The DAILY ENEMA method, government rhymes with: Wonderment..spectacle! of blunders, sent (,man) Man! man, the Constituent man,Man the water-tight doors! man..See? Not systemic! I’m wromg?? prove me there’s a system, there, –No system, just diversity, diversity! and moore diversities..get it, Michael? but! can they be sustained? (the diversenesses) for our sustenances, –R subterranean survival as a species (rhyme that); or, put another way, R. U. S., “–r u sustainable?” no, you ee-dee-ot!! Randolf (thee) ‘Underdog’ Scotty! beammeupyoustupidcowboyirish.ha-ha! (Mr.Scott:Now them’s fightin’ words, Cap’n!! light-swords or phaser’s?! in the lunar dawn) Now I, –oh! I put the paper-bag over the dog’s head, see? she fished it out of the closet just then ‘n’ brought it in ta me ‘n’ now she’s disoriented, can’t see nothin’ but brown paper from the inside lookin’ out ‘n’ now I save her by pulling it off again, “Good dog!” nice trick, by the way..good game; and a useful model for government’s/patience of Jobs’, dogs..dogs ‘n’ jobs! Job’s, Job’s, and moore Job’s, Thank you, Mr. pResident (jobs daughters)

“Now it’s the same, old song! but with a different meaning since you’ve been gone, oh!..”

San berdoo-oo-oo, Ho! yeah..I built that, 0’Bamma!

next! cut to the kodiak, the, uhmm, the koda, Russian yak-yak!Russia, Russia,RUSSIA! done deal..or poem, rather (I can bearly bear it) Hint: It first all always hits in sanbernardino!sanbernardinocounty, that is. San-berdoo! san-berdoo! san-berdoo! san-berdoo, yeah..San Bernardino Strait! (October, 24, 1944),starighht to san berdoo!! and Tyler too, –tipsy canoe..&poems, too!

“Poetry?”

“No, sharks.”

“Well, I’m off to sink me some Jap ships, now, take care..”

“Thanks, Halsey!”

Meet me at IDORA PARK, yeah, Isley’s! we’ll do ice-cream..on me.

The end!give-me-dot-gov (, –dotliberty,or?) a poem, give a dog a bone; now your all aloen,

“..so! Lassie..won’t you please come home, now, yeah! Lassie come home! Lassie come home. Dad&Mom! Dad and Mom went to town-n-n-n..to buy Da-a-ad a shovel-l-l-l! and some bad men are outside, girl-l-l-l, yeah! they don’t know I’m here, they might hear me..they might have a gun! yeah, this ain’t no fun! –Yeah! so, Lassie-e-e..won’t you please come home now, yeah! Lassie come home..Lassie come home!”

~chrisinbigbear(california”..off my lawn!”)

Dad’s ship USS OMMANEY BAY CVE-79 sunk by kamikaze, January 4, 1945, rests at the bottom of the Sulu Sea..Like father, like son.

ps: Oh ahh, uh-oh! Here come the judge, her come the judge, here come thee judge! Here come deh, –Marse Tom..Marse Tom-tom! (=da-dot-Guh-vuh-mint) “Your Honor, I..” Mr.Government, is y’all heah fo’ to steal my poem? Yessuh?? No, please! it’s all I gots to feed my fambly on. For real’s, Ma-an! don’t eviscerate us..I nussed you fust! ‘member? Yeh! eye’s a chess-feeder f’om way back, en..en I don’t appreciate your offensive language by the way “–Call Perry Mason!” Thanks, you benna great audience! see, see you back at the place Aleksandr.

A nice, relaxing smoke! pacifically down, in the deep, blue Pacific Ocean..uno de el siete mares.

* Dedicated to my Dad,MYPILLOW&D’Sousa, no! not Bertram, dummy..Dinesh! and remember:

ps:En la tierra de ciegos, el tuerto es rey! si! Simon!! Calcuttaboys contra los Indi0s-13 y todos!! cutthroat cuttlefishes wit’ arrows, bows’n’Tommy-guns?? farting in synch down by da sbcounty seat, >supervisors’, –them an’ there ‘soft’ totalitarianism‘s:dem persuadest me..almost (BELCH!) Parlez vous francais? Now you’re multi-lingualling. Bye, Petersburg..and goodnight L.A.

Sweet Jesus!

mydotgov@jourmama.entschuldigensiebitte/porfavor+lbtgifb&doj.dmv.dot-dash,-oy!

Published by scrunchymacscruff

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