Saturday, April 23, 2005

SORT OF A REPORT

Case: 12345678910
Patient: Alice Gonzallas
DIAGNOSIS: Nut Case

Patient lives alone, on her own, unknown, has a name but doesn't know it, motor-mouth, just can't slow it. Has a past but not much to it. Had a fortune, son went through it. Daughter got what was left and blew it. Had a lover, no one knew it, including him, party to it. Childhood bad. Beat by mom, raped by dad. Very sad. Otherwise pleasant past.

Has one friend, the telephone. Talks to the dial tone, Sometimes it moans, sometimes it groans, always cries, always lies, very wise. likes pizza pies, has blue eyes, screws around with other guys. Tone choked and died on chicken bone, reincarnated as a busy line. Dines on wine and turpentine. Has a big fat behind.

Switched loyalty to codes, areas and zips. Sure they're gyps. Overcharge her for long distance blips. But loves their quips about sinking ships, Hates the Chinks. Thinks when they take command they'll feed the masses sticky molasses, lice and poisoned rice, melted ice at double price,

Hates the Japs who invented ginger snaps, baseball caps and other things, perhaps.

Hates the Jews on a cruise, eating, cheating, reading news to brush up on their p's and q's. Believes the rumor that Schickelgruber will return as a fat Arafat to lead the Arabs down the pyscho-path to the public bath. Her favorite poem: "CAMELS SMELL. THE SPHYNX STINKS."

Patient loves to hate. Plans a trip to the Golden Gate, a Big Mac strapped to her back, french fries between her thighs. A kosher pickle Popsicle, to her surprise, won first prize as her spy disguise.

(NOTE: Want to add your retort to the doctor's report? Blog it to me but keep it short.)

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dad. This poem is insane. What planet are you from tonight? A Fan

1:08 AM  

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