once upon a time...in Abissynia

                            Luis (Luigi) Marengo

        Reggimento Cavalleria "Saluzzo"   Abissynia c 35-36

at best an accident, at worst un crime passionnel -it´s what the judge said

i shot carol vaughn the year of some goddamned animal

precisely in the early morning of an all rosès august fifteen

a chinaman would confirm the foul beast for such faithless year

and provide an array of morbid details to feed the imaginary

of the gluttonous bunch ever unmollified with these sort of affairs

likewise someone of trust could conjure up more ready ingredients

on the matter _enter here your doting yoga instructor priest

or friendly impostor at large anyone to get it better in stride

like it was in my fortune cookie plain as daylight

tuesday it read the hour was 6:06:06 _

she had no chance and i couldn`t miss_

we lay to love embraced with fire

inbetween not a shadow

feeling not the heat of darkness suffocate us to one last sigh

and fade to nothing

nothing is gonna save me

though i was up before the hour by forethought

i shall never tell the truth

i shot carol dead when she turned up to look as she was laying in bed

she saw me holding her twentytwo carbine in my hands and said –no

emil don`t do it- i raised the gun took aim and shot her bang in the head

it was thrust back and away and bounced straight back to its sky dig

with eyes half shut disparate

i tried to close them with my hand but they stayed as they were  

and her body shook violently for a bit with gurgling sounds 

and heavy breathing before returning to silence

then a thin stream of blood appeared out of her right nostril

and ran above the lip on the side of her face

and a trickle of blood runneth out of her ear unto the bed

one last out of her right eye stopped at her cheek midway

like a crimson tear…farewell

and i can say i have fared well like hell

the rest can be surmised by news reports made public or hearsay

nothing and never  

hell`s gonna miss me gehena shall turn me to dust

 

 

so sorry jadajadajada...(piece o´work in progress)

 

this person was the butt of the joke...the target the darling the laughingstock the goat...Oscar gave her center stage at the most important gala of the film world thanks to her husband´s celebrity status so will smith inmediately starred in a shameful incident attacking the host comedian who was doing the traditional roast and let loose out loud with keep my wife´s name out your fuckin mouth as the signal reached virtually the bundocks of the world putting her name on everyone´s mouth who had just heard what, how say you what, jahdee jadah jaduh what the fu&khhh...    

so far so good...this is within fractions of a second the turning point...it is done the jest, it´s time for laughs and smiles are all around...except the culprit is still processing the humor and is about to do a neck turn stiff towards her husband her eyelids coming down to a slit and up to a roll saying in a masked whisper  do something killgh or so it seemed...

this is what ensued...smith suckered-smack the comedian...and   

this is the apology on instagram sans the crying at the Oscar´s... 

listen to this jada jada shite 

-jada violence in all of its jada forms 

is poisonous and jada jada destructive...

now if you catch my drift this is how it went -mind 

an apology is always an awkward undertaking

kind ´o blah blah blahs and so on and so forth 

bunk and meaningless 

works best accompanied with props and tears...

my jada behavior at last night’s 

jadajadajada academy awards 

was unacceptable and jada inexcusable 

jadajada at my expense is a part of my jada job 

but a jada about jada’s jada jada medical condition 

is too much jadajadajada for me to bear...

so it goes the embarrassing pose apology and all on instagram with the oh so unpleasant i was out of line 

i´m a jadajada work in jadajadajada progress  

 

prop in hand and tears...a formula...did it work...

acting vs non acting...and was it an Oscar performance...(?)

i love america # 45

(jackie cogan in a lowlife dive)

there is no abridging the freedom of the press    

it´s in the first amendment                     

among the other liberties it protects -speech 

religion ans its practice petition and assembly- 

it´s all there plainly stated                      

to prevent interference censorship            

meddling from trendy fascists                   

extant communists & assorted arseholes              

all enemies of american democracy i´m telling you 

well yeah this is the we told you so presidency
the dawn of the dead brains madly chasing
after a neurological disaster...

it´s finally happening...moreover
you could always see their toxic nonideals 

there under that pale thin skin 

so there´s a crazy uncle under every roof
we shall know in due time the whole story
the pre and after with all the slimy details
and how the gop just watched the bases turn
to the demagogue as if some banana republic
yes we became ecuador with nukes following
around an orange chimp the don     

due excuses given to the color orange 
all dons and chimps mind you

yeah right but this country is fucked             

i´m telling you...now we have 
a bigoted bully in the white house 
with no convictions outside of narcissim 
and nativism racism and sexism 
his life public and otherwise 
is full of racist slurs and acts...
he is a functional illiterate 
doing the fuhrer by the numbers
a real piece of work

On July 20, A. G. Sulzberger, the Times’ publisher and James Bennet, the editor of the Times’ editorial page, met with Trump at the White House, according to Eileen Murphy, spokeswoman for the Times. Though Trump’s aides requested the meeting be off the record, Trump’s tweet Sunday put the meeting “on the record,” allowing for Sulzberger to respond, said Murphy.

The tweet

Had a very good and interesting meeting at the White House with A.G. Sulzberger, Publisher of the New York Times. Spent much time talking about the vast amounts of Fake News being put out by the media & how that Fake News has morphed into phrase, “Enemy of the People.” Sad!

The response

My main purpose for accepting the meeting was to raise concerns about the president´s deeply troubling anti-press rhetoric.

I told the president directly that I thought that his language was not just divisive but increasingly dangerous.

I told him that although the phrase ´´fake news´´ is untrue and harmful, I am far more concerned about his labeling journalists ´´the enemy of the people.´´  I warned that this inflammatory language is contributing to a rise in threats against journalists and will lead to violence.

I repeatedly stressed that is particularly true abroad, where the president´s rhetoric is being used by some regimes to justify sweeping crackdowns on journalists.  I warned that it was putting lives at risk, that it was undermining the democratic ideals of our nation, and that it was eroding one of our country´s greatest exports: a commitment to free speech and a free press.

Throughout the conversation I emphasized that if President Trump, like previous presidents, was upset with coverage of his administration he was of course free to tell the world.  I made clear repeatedly that I was not asking for him to soften his attacks on The Times if he felt our coverage was unfair.  Instead, I implored him to reconsider his broader attacks on journalism, which I believe are dangerous and harmful to our country.

can´t believe all the shite that´s going down

listen counselor it´s like i said before
i´m living in America
and in America you are on your own
America is not a country it´s just a business
drink up

six six six...i got nothing

six six six  

i got nothing _and thinking

there was commotion from the street

murmurings muttered chanting in the air

i raced the window sill triumphant 

at the persiennes i lurched the void 

from the waist intent on truth or dare

it was hell´s bells 

a fantastic venture it was

a procession of tropical proportions

the cathedral bells began ring a ding dong

i saw mother ambling there

under black veils her red hair

and larger than life a statue on a cart

stage blood for the christ in distress

el señor de la patada _the given name

suffers the earthly divine has no concern

yes those were the days my friend

i´d crown myself with thorns regularly

and i always prevailed

it was a long long long time ago

when fear was affixed at the wheel

reason was left out of the deal
was it not father who told us so

he said this is the score fear not 
but fear was at the core

we receded into ideas false
and false ideals were conceived

they were utter nonsense

we did not know the score

we knew fear

it was our source

we had to make some kind of sense

of the unknown _so we made it up

we are all one

feel

keep on gonging

find scores in old records stores

we all have been kangaroo kourted

anything severed from the body

may be saved cryogenically

talking about cocks hands heads?

we shall need an agent that we
may wield otherwordly powers 
still thinking trash 
we beg off release 

this is how i play 

anger over sarcasm rudeness brutality

sound the shofar eat a round challah

in-a-minute is never now

try and juggle all the balls

play on our finiteness

oh such radical a condition…