Amos Hart--Christmas Rabbi

   
   "Amos Hart--Christmas Rabbi"
   
   Amos got the zapping news from gregarious Ginger, though she stayed in her polite pack, never mixing with uncouth hounds.  She told him the scoop on some falsely accused dude in Nashville, all orchestrated by many-a-yutz, and she wanted Amos to pen the solid truth, not the fabrications of envy and lies by pumpkinheads without the ignition of brain candles.
   Amos got on it like white on rice.  The guy was given, against his will, a catheter.  Went down to his prostate.  They didn't care that years before his urethra was re-constructed, along with his bladder walls; plus, they pinned him down, took his anemic blood, draining him more lethargic, stealing his religious freedom, though four nurses, gay men included, couldn't thieve away his Saint Raphael prayer card--his weak arm and hand holding onto it against their monstrous muster that proved impotent and weak.  Like Samson--he wasn't easily bound.
   Put him in with some over-eating simian type, college educated, which in her case meant dumb as a dingbat, having only focused on swallowing aggression in her life.  Too, said he spent his money on tobacco, when they were drinking the shit out of it, collecting porn, and suicide kings themselves, smearing him to his Aunt, saying he had no enjoyment in life, when he loved to eat healthy and shop at the pharmacy as if he was a Wiccan, all in hopes of health for the miraculous masses.
   Worst of all, his inheritance had been thieved away, them saying he wasn't worthy, dividing it up among themselves, as attorneys are greedy guts, always wanting more, constantly speaking with forked tongues--just look at the crooks in Washington--all rich and successful, in a manner of fooling everyone; moreover, his daughter lived in a little room, got one meal a day, as his ex-wife wasn't exactly the Virgin Mary, but sold herself to the highest bidder, taking some of his inheritance, and not sharing it with his daughter, Zoe.  
   Stolen from, lied about, smeared, exploited, manipulated--Amos was just happy that the Archangel Uriel had no sense of humor.  True justice, like with a Virgo, and sometimes peace is kissed, if only in innocent fashion.
   Amos Hart got on the keyboard, gave machine gun script, automatic; plus, ate some cotton candy, lime-green, and recalled the days when people gave a damn, which seemed like never.  Oh screw it, Merry Christmas, all based on a carpenter and Rabbi who followed a higher code and got pissed at the criminals and crooks, exposing the lust so many have, as they are their favorite persons.
   It's good to be a baby in a manger, for Wise Men wish you well.
   Amos cranked up a cherry cigar, remembered the coyotes, and even gave a damn about the bounteous bunnies.