Kooky Lucy Frost (9)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (9)"
   
   Kooky Lucy, unknown to herself, having had ice-water in her veins for years, though sometimes scorched, and running free like a frozen river melted, but always cold again, for she was blessed by being genuine, and what is holy, is protected--bless all those without the venomous vizard that is a monstrous mask--Lucy wore no vizard.
   As she jogged through Pap's suburban-sprawled neighborhood, with her best pal at her heels, she watched as the trash men were more automated, and the losers lose more jobs, though happy to work alone like a Gray Ghost during the Civil War.  We all have our part to play, and some enjoy digging ditches and working with their hands, building a fortress of corporeal steel, like a Yankee ironworker, way up high, seeking the celestial high-tower, and knowing the metaphorical South can only sustain itself on making tampons, and many women in the South still pick their own cotton today, not wanting toxic shock.
   Lucy Frost kept jogging.  Kept remembering the fibs now absent from her future.  

Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back - Trailer

Mosby--Civil War, no myth

   
   "Mosby--Civil War, no myth"
  
   They call the holocaust a myth nowadays.  The Civil War too.  Men in masks, taking down heroes during the witching hour.  Myriads of Yankee men dead, freeing people who would not fight for themselves.  We all were slaves at one point.  The Jews.  The Irish.  The Nordics.  Them blondes deep in Egypt's curse.  Let My People Go.  The people that fear me.  What is fear of God Solomon answers:  "Hatred of pride, arrogance, and the forked tongue."  But boast of God, for He forged you into existence.  The light arriveth, and the darkness comprehends it not.
   Mosby.  Sickly.  Of Virginia.  The Apple of His Mother's Eye.  Grew to be about five foot six, weighing in @ 120 or so pounds.  Got beat up at school everyday.  The next day, dressed himself, and happily got another ass whooping.  Kept coming back.  Ice water in his veins.
   Wanted to go Union.  Supported Grant during his Presidency.  But Virginia was his mother; therefore, he enlisted and worked under J.E.B. Stuart.  Hated regimentation.  Needed to be alone.  A scout.  Stuart gave him a few men.  All Mosby did was cause chaos to the Yankees.  Disturb their sleep patterns during war, which is important to fighting men.  A small act of victory, for a small man, yet grander than anything even the Silver Fox could comprehend. 
   Mosby was an anomaly.  Spent time in jail.  Carried peppered steel.  Would not submit to a giant, nor did King David.  Disturbed the giant's rest.  The Apple of His Mother's Eye.  A sick man.  A small man.  A part of history, erased.  But he liveth . . .

My Baby loves me - Lyrics

A Non-Royal Wedding

   
   "A Non-Royal Wedding"
   
    What did my pseudo-relative imply?  The cousins and aunts and uncles are all jealous.  Never talked to us after seeing our splendor.  She is a debutante after all.  Our wealth and status.  My biggest dilemma, a Tesla or a Mercedes--and your mother suffers like that?  A physician asks.
   No physical therapy for two years.  Haldol shoved down her throat.  We all gotta die sometime, they tell me.  Bleeding, phobias, bullying, pestering like:  You can't win an argument with a lawyer and all.  You're gonna die, just accept it.
    Your Dad left you an inheritance; next, no he didn't.  Forked tongue.  Reptilian.  Take the lady, of no sound mind at the time, to a Notary.  Follow the money Feds.  Follow the abuse and neglect. Follow the money Feds.  
   He's not worthy.  No dude, you're not sick.  You are.  You gotta die.  You're outta the house.  They're jealous of us.  Our wealth--our status.
   We all heard Mark Twain calling Bullshit years ago, but never listened.  
   Jesus had plenty of sex.  The Virgin is a witch.  King David is full of shit.  We hate Saint Paul. 
   Why don't they just castrate Priests?  You're not sick.  You are.  We love you.  
   Thank you Saint Joan of Arc.  Thank you Christ, for unmasking . . .

Holy Fire--stranger than fiction!

   
   "Holy Fire--stranger than fiction!"
   
   Chopra's new book on the Universe would make Jango Fett sweat under his hairy pits.  Step out of yourself--examine your past, everyday too, knowing:  there are no coincidences in life, and my family is no coincidence.  They've been feeding Mom and me mantras over and over and over.      
   "You're your own worst enemy.  You're too close to your mother.  You never did that.  The Cowboys never won the Superbowl.  You're not sick, for you just have a vivid imagination and drink lots of coffee."
   Yeah, I forgive, for they're controlled.  One of my relatives put me in the hospital twice.  My Mom said:  "Don't eat her food."  I did twice; next, hooked up to a chemo-like infusion for hours.  The other took LSD and laid in a sleep-deprivation tank; plus, numerous hits of X.  He's in the losing Illuminati now.  He ate some mushrooms in Carolina, and my other relative said he's gonna be slithering around like a reptile.  Makes sense.
   Plus, there's Barney Fife and Andy Griffith--I'm just repeating what the filthy rich relative laughingly said.  A Goober Pyle spotted some aliens, and got arrested.  Now looky here boy, you got yourself them hairy men, like Esau, the reptilians, the Nordics, and the greys who like to give colonoscopies with conscious sedation.  Too, the fish people, and boy, hairy men don't like them reptiles.
   1st Amendment Law, and I was told by an attorney that I had no 1st Amendment Rights for penning prose, which was ambiguous.  1.)  No clear and present danger.  2.)  No fighting words.  And 3.)  If it's ambiguous--it's okay. 
   But nowadays, you can pretend to kill the President and nobody cares.  Hell boy--get some Federal Marshals on it.    

Carly Pearce - Every Little Thing (lyrics)