Sunday, January 4, 2009

Under Clown Cover


A yearly pre scription of buying poinsettias for the front porch, a touch of winter bright red blood for a condo complex, the tree, decorations, and I am so ready to post a toasty deal sifting through salt tablets and discounted bric-a-brac running down the door hugger with empty shopping bags and pulling out a plastic piece getting it done early and saving big while at the next off ramp, careful not to get mauled or borrow myself silly unless it's at 4 percent with a bank I can trust because the sack doesn't hurt as much as the tumble, so say can you, "Me, me, me" for whom the bell tolls since it's tolling for all-night suckers gone to investment bankers recounting money, and when everything is said and done it will never be said and done, from the time I placed my pants on the counter as a person in good standing which allows me to compute off the turnpike of whatever is expected and under wearing clown cover, I see the first fringe of spring