Rodak's Writings: a Poem

 

Big-Time Baby Blue

Beautiful body,

Braless, with body hair,

Barreling down the boulevard,

Bodacious bangers and

Bountiful booty bouncing,

Babe’s got the big bucks, the

Badass Benz, the Triumph

Bike, the boat docked by the

Beachfront bungalow.

Bangor to Boston,

Banksters bow when she

Blows by, big blues beaming bright.

Better bind up those balls, boys.

Best bet is this bad bitch bites.

 

Reflections: The Shape of Things to Come

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The craziest, most far-out of the conspiracy theories are gradually emerging as pretty damned accurate. Be very afraid, but project your fear onto the real monsters. A symptom to watch: the fairly rapid deployment of an international, militarized, mercenary police force.

These units, coordinated across national borders, unaccountable to the citizenry, wearing different colors, but fluid in deployment, apparently trump the authority of the local, constitutionally governed police, acting upon orders from the Shadow Government that is our oligarchic rulers.

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