Tuesday, October 4, 2016

SONNET (FOR EMPORIUM OF YOUTH)



Seen from another angle as when an area—station, square—contemplated on Sunday.

The expression may calcify into a demonstration of thistle-thorn dismay.

By “imagine your face” I mean shadow, your expression itself a shadow.

These colors: light green sky, pale stone, graffiti: these colors now.

The emporium of youth versus the emporium of adulthood.

If Person A will ail at Point X, then Person B will ail at Point Y.

(Loneliness aggrandizes the symmetrical nature of most pain.)

Whereas a big galosh of dirty cloud busts open a caucus of old doves.

These colors: pale stone, water-wood, radio tower: these colors now.

What brightens the ticking synapses versus what warms the solid state capacity for violence.

The difference between idling (unit of river bank) and waiting (unit of high-rise.)

Rust, rusty coloring, what gnaws into our porticos of awareness.

By “imagine your face”, I mean the uncorrected ritual of love.

Or the sliding scale of sunlight, or the balloting of voices in airshafts and alleys.



this post is part of a triple issue. also see: TRUMP & JUMPING JACKS


DONALD TRUMP’S AVOCADO TRADE POLICY CALLED INTO QUESTION AS UNDECIDED SWING STATE VOTERS MULL THE FUTURE OF SUPER-FOODS UNDER A DRUMPF PRESIDENCY.



How does Donald Trump expect Mexican farmers to deliver avocados after he’s built the anti-Mexican immigration wall? By throwing them? One at a time? Ostensibly, there could be little avocado-sized holes in the wall so these super-foods could be kindly passed-through (one at a time) or of course giant bucket-loads of the fruits could be launched into the Southwestern United States via catapults. Yes, the Mexican workers would chop the restraining ropes with axes and lo, the avocados would fly—into our yards, onto our roofs, into the windows of our Drumpf-fearing children, onto our crumbling infrastructure, into our floundering eco-systems.

Trump hopes to win the election by banking on the fact that people won’t feel comfortable voting for the country’s first major-party female candidate for the White House. In other words, nobody we’ve voted for (except Geraldine Ferraro) has wielded bosoms. To be fair, though, Mike Pence has seemed a little jiggly during this election cycle and Drumpf, famously, won’t release his bust size. To wit, the Clinton-Kaine ticket might be the only one that can offer gender-appropriate bosoms, busts, ribcages, breastplates, and pectoralia. (Gary Johnson couldn’t name an international boob who he respected, so his cleavage won’t be invited to the debates.)

Have you read Trump’s real economic program? Skip to the part where he envisions, as did Hoover, a uniform measure of prosperity. Where Hoover promised “a chicken in every pot,” Drumpf selects the automobile—as opposed to the stew pot—as the homogenous object that will receive the unit of comeuppance. His plan calls for “A Douchebag in Every Car.” Does he mean an airbag? Don’t most cars already possess an airbag? Don’t most cars already have a douchebag (behind the wheel)? Can you imagine GM issuing a douchebag recall? Can you imagine young hoodlums breaking into cars, just to steal the douchebag? The country will be Driving Drumpf.


Donald Trump wants to irrigate drivers just before they smack their foreheads against the dashboard. This, Dear Reader, is what we call “Meta Fur.” The next time you drink a 40 with your (moderate) Republican chums on the stoop, tell ‘em, should they vote Hillary, the Republicans can spend four more years clobbering her, again. She’s more of a Republican than Drumpf, and there are laws against Democrats impersonating Republicans. Paul Ryan can chuck impeaches at her. Paul Ryan can impeach Bill Clinton for calling himself First Man. Adam was the First Man, he was American, and he broke breadsticks in the Olive Garden of Eden.


Just relax, okay? Eleanor Roosevelt was the first woman to be President of the United States, so Hillary would be second. But if we vote Drumpf in November, then Vladimir Putin could become the first sitting Russian leader to assume the U.S. presidency. Trump can, perhaps, buy-off Putin by offering him several detained avocados: a super-food bribe to avoid a super-feud! Be vewwwy vewwwy careful, Dear Voter, be vewwwy vewwwy careful.


this post is part of a triple issue. also see: SONNET & JUMPING JACKS

JUMPING JACKS.




Cast:
Jumping Jack. . . . as Himself
Voices of Baltimore. . . . as Themselves

Producer:
Blood And Gutstein Films

Running Time:
0:06

Advance Praise:

“It’s like snow angels, in the air.” –
Cinema Minima
“In six seconds, it is, in fact, a jumping jack flash.” –
Film Flam
“Plain and simple, this flick is ‘jump change.’” –
Movie Groovy

Other Films You Might Enjoy:
this post is part of a triple issue. also see: SONNET & TRUMP