Thursday, June 23, 2016

Paul is Dead

Abbie Normal Road


The white blocks, making stripes on the new asphalt. Always new asphalt in these goddam socialist countries!

The lads, posing while looking like they're not posing.

There's a Lamarckian blood trace heading towards Why I Nevertown. Let's say it's in Wisconsin. For the continuity. Let's say.

One of the guns of a youthful nature, the one who didn't get "All You Need is Love" must have been Photoshopped in because, you see, Paul is dead.

Deads I tells ya. Ya dabbles in in with Trump, out with Trump back in with Trump goo gooka cho enough times, you are relying on residuelles, mes belles. Sont les mots qui prove you're an incorrigible bitch for hire.

Some say.

I mean I hear many people saying this.


I heard Paulie's dead
This time it's not the crosswalk
It's the Robert's Rules

 
Invitation to indicate your human qualities: declined. 

We entrusted you in the line of succession and this is all we get? 

Your New Deal undoing spiel is older than Mr. Coffee. 

Older than Sputnik. 


Paul is dead.
No longer any patois for his bushwa.