Thursday, August 23, 2012

Time to Vote Folks

The financial poker game shuffles on.  If solid business was ever the goal, running with the cash and then standing in line at the public till for a handout is the American game.  If this is to be the global orgy, with a nod from the treasure chest and a daily goose under the skirts of the American public, what’s next?  Perhaps a body condom is in order. 

One can ponder, cliché, hoot, shake heads, banter, from pundits blather 6-10 PM and beyond about the rise ands fall, the daily erectile dysfunction screened to climax daily, complete with apologies for bad dreams and a stack of towels to wipe the sweat just off stage until the financial hussy spreads her legs again. Perhaps a body condom is in order. 

America is asleep at the wheel and the orchestra plays Rooms to Go.  These Boomers, and buffers, and clustered octogenarians to come (if possible) went to the circus years ago, watched the trapeze artists, the clowns, the elephants with butterfly wings on their ears, the man shot from the cannon and they had sooooo much fun and it stuck sooooo “fondly’ in their craws that by golly, by gee, they never, why they never really came home.

Oh how we dance on the nights when we’re “led” to the altars, the fox holes, the echoes in the mall, the silence between national drumbeat, so thin the music doesn’t even play. 

Roll the dice.  Deal.  The loan sharks are in the bedroom and they want all the action.  Its din din for Jesus and the cash, with a few million babies crying for the chance to run up a tab, giggle in the rocking arms they will eventually have to bear, or if chosen, sit on the Congressional flagpole waiting for the next job, the next hurricane, the foreclosure, the next shoe to drop from Uncle Sam’s never ending slog to corporate victory.


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