0700/1821 56/66 Light Clouds NNE 5/10 70%H
DOGS 10109 7407 1091 1545.
Greetings from the Hill.
Another chilly day in paradise,
quiet morning streets, no gawkers,
not even a pickup truck of illegals,
gentrification is basic repairs,
old queens now bend in their gardens.
The asshole across the street
trapped two hens in his rental cage,
"One hundred dollars,from 'The Bird People,"
he boasted, like a crowing cock,
another pompous part time resident,
"They wake me up.."
The cage was in Love Lane,
"Not the fuckwad's property,"
growled the madone...
of course the house photographers
failed to record the atrocity,
merely an oldman's word.
No gushing rushing urgency from CNBC,
but the traitors are always trading,
cats under comforters in the balcony sun,
classics from Havana, palm trees
through forty eight window panes,
socks, shirt and sweater
beneath the blogist's robe,
coffee finished by noon.
"That fucking Fink has the mulatto's ear,"
growls the madone having followed his career,
another mathematical genius said to have
invented derivatives for Boston Bank,
...."Way back when."
Seems like a lot of people invented those things
that....."No one understands."
But when did Joe FourPack ever read
a bank statement, things like that
were done by the 'little lady',
while cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring
for the rat pack, in between
a job of her own....
the land of equality for all,
"Only where a real 'black' woman
could become First Lady of America,
'Hello hello, take a look'
and another pair of Lawyers
in the White House,
the white couple on World Tour,
sandwiched between the librarian
and the cheerleader...My My,"
sighs the oldman
wondering about lunch.
"The dogs have been unleashed,
sniffing the tainted money trail
that dissipates like Frisco Fog,
into sunny day pixels
connected by the universal network
of innovative financial engineering,
expensive words to disguise THEFT,"
'Too Big to Know', frowns a judge,
one of the ten clowns who made
corporations human to bribe,
finally the way of business is legalized
for the corporapists and banksters
to officially manage 435 stooges
and fifty one goons with an underclass
of state, county, city and town
"Guys like Vinear understand the system,
a tight organization of thirty thousand,
controlled top down, secrets tight
but interchanged like overnight money,
and pools for massive deals...
opening the dark pools of opaque deals
in the pink pits of Nasdaq's OTC,
Hofuckingho, a weekend away from overdraft
on billion dollar scams,
'a trillion here, a trillion there'",
fumed the madone feeding the cats
on the sunny blue sky balcony.
"Hey...what about those Crisis Derivatives
being perpetrated by Citibank," laughs Alger,
resident painter and student
of Fraud Street deceit,
visiting the blogist.
"And now the shit is beginning to bubble
from the septic tank,"
grinning with his witticisms,
enjoying the intrigue of
Thieving Lying Cheats.
A curious mind is a pleasure to find.
"And 'they' say Bush and Blair
had an affair, hehehe...
with Connie," giggling
as his cellphone chimes.
The master of the Banking Houses,
overlord of the twelve keepers
of consumer cash flows
continues to talk shit
now bubbling in the basements
of homes, factories and hotels
underwater, the financial flood
of 2007 DEBT with only
fifty cents to cover the buck
from the Wall Street Fuck.
"Great Opportunities in China,"
exude the investment hustlers
as chinese companies are listed
on the NYSE for trading
by the traders.
"We do our best," lie the leaders
of the banking establishment.
Time runs the course,
as rivers turn to rapids,
bridges collapse without repair,
subdivisions become vacant,
and another derivative scam
is sold for hot air.
Blue skies and beautiful,
a breeze in the keys.
And always sunset.