Monday, August 24, 2015

Moon over Miami or “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord”

Sometimes I like to walk around the house squeezing one butt cheek and making popping sounds with my mouth.
Sometimes I like to think about sneaking up on you and surprising you by being someone completely different than the asshole you’re always expecting.
Sometimes I think about shaving my entire body and being the very first Jewish-Sicilian seal to crawl across this broken and defiled planet of ours.

We best go to Cuba right now before the spoils of capitalism reign down upon that small country like thunder and lightning from a very drunk and greedy God.
We best pull ourselves up by our bootstraps before the conservatives shower us with Judas kisses and betray all of our best intentions by being the assholes they always are.
We best not stop believing that the people can and will ready a militia and take down the sick fucks in power who think it’s completely acceptable to disenfranchise anyone who does not look like them or love like them or have the same color money as them.

Sometimes I like to parade around the house like some floozy from a bygone era when big hair was all the rage and being enraged did not land you in such hot water.
Sometimes I like to believe we’re all cut from the same dishcloth until I open my eyes to all of the pain and suffering too many are experiencing because too many people claim to be Christians, but act more like heathens.
Sometimes I think about moving to Denmark so I can once and for all let my guard down and be the freak I’ve always aspired to be.

We best get our ducks in a row because before you know it even Daffy and Donald are going to be sent to concentration camps. Their feathers singed from the gas as another Peking duck lands on the table of another unsuspecting American family.
We best do away with turning the other cheek and figure out some way to be stern without coming across like another schoolyard bully or dictator in waiting.
We best not give up our ghosts before we leave our own personal and indelible impressions upon this land of a thousand lakes and hills. I am Jack to your Jill or better yet I am Shirley to your Laverne and I have always understood you even when both of our chips were down and even a red hot poker would not completely awaken us from this hell on Earth.

Charles Cicirella

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