Sunday Earth Day April 22 2012 Intrinsic fortify

INtrinsic fortify.docx

Sunday Earth Day April 22 2012

Intrinsic fortify

Part two

There was no part one

Whirlyfritzerglomeratialsilverplater is a company in England located in New York City the President is a Whirly he is always a Whirly while the treasurer is only a Plence. The San Antonio office of the Sanitation Bureau would not talk to us they said they have heard of our silver plater and did  not wish us to make pipelines to there river walk. We decided not to make our services available in Texas there is not much water and it is a waste of our time. The Mexicans wanted us not to get paid they hoard the Gold billions into Bullions and hide them in the Bunions of the many colored shoes they were to the Fiesta is in progress now. Gold means nothing to us we work too hard to every be satisfied with mere Mexican Incan latino Gold. The CharlaX poet is too old to dig with a shovel in the dirt and so we move away from Texas leaving him to write as he is the most famous living dead poet left alive. In the course of rivers lies silver platings left millenniums ago by other civilizations using pipelines made of Gold the Spainyards will dig up San Antonio when we send them our Mapps with the Anchient pipeline outlined down there in Gold it is the least we can do to help you all. Signed Acting as President Luftwaller Von Whirly in dementia send this from the desk of Ardvil Plence the treasurer of Whirlyglomeratialsilverplater company New York Office a division of Zappersunlimited.com in London Ltg. Written on the Dell of CharlaX in San Antonio Texas this was Intrinsic fortify. Sunday Earth Day April 22 2012

April Eleventh

April Eleventh

April Eleventh

Primary (do not talk about politics) secondary (or religion) thirdly is simply this most people will discuss sex with total strangers some people would be embarrassed by this but some people would see it as theraputic even life saving thrilling after all life to them is just cheap tricks

Rude Dude dood this Bus Driver was rude dood rude he took me for a turnip truck rider and he dissed me eally rather rudely dood the did eye say RUDE he was a Mexican with a shiney leather belt cowboyo boots and silver buckel shrapnel would not kill him well he was mean to me he suggested very strongly not to get on his bus is not safe with old white men aboard what bothered him was my smell eye sweat and do not wipe it well the heat is bad in Texas and even when eye dress well eye have odors under my shirts dry slowly in the lieberry as eye shift my gears and cool off way too fast just trying to explain the fact eye missed the first half hour of my ride the bogus facts should not have told me what to do but let me ride how dare you it is not enough to say how dare you not let me ride for being white lots of people do not like me they find a homeless less then tastefully in the event of needing help call 666 instead of 911 ask for a Hippy see iff any are around eye never bought the syndrome of a man has to fight just to live or help someone or do things by himself its just not done iff this were true it would be the old wild west and everyone a slinger on the web ask any preacher iff you keep those ten commandments will it help you to be drunk it sort of nullifes all your efforts to be pure by your own works iff someone could enter in the door of Heaven this way then GOD would not have sent Jesus besides you must knoe that drunk is wrong to do else why go on apologizing for the way you always do. Sorry dahling this was supposed to be about sex but real life has interfered with all my day including poetry in the year 205 there was a movement to ban poetry the only poetry allowed was the washed and richly clad endowment of the colledges fraternities near town the ROman DIocese was frowning on the poor simple rustic poets making poor poems about flowers and this was found This Year is 2012 it was penned by the INcan Diety Nostradomas read this with relish or mustard even greens iff you prefer but eye do not underline or highlight mine this is what the Flower Poem said

Flower Poem

written in ink by Nostradomas

with a Quill penn

O ppeople of the Millienum iff you are reading this you have found my ashes must be urned near this missive is just to warn you all of you the end is near this place will soon be the end of the world is coming do not forget

Flower Poem

205

A rose can be green

the petals blown by the wind

the odor of love then missing

it is still the essence of the building

the power of the stem of the rose

signed Nostradomas

after all is said and done ed.note.ed he was the greatest guesser of them all

Bye CharlaX

April Eleventh

April Two for NPM a prose poem

April Two for NPM

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"HOW, HOWHOWIndianHowa paroday of whoWho are you ?eye am How eye am the Indian HowHow are you ?yeseye am Howyou already said this once How are you Doing.eye am fineeye thought you just told me you are Howjust kiddingJustKidding is my nieceeye am HowWOWyou must be serious nowNOT Now Howoh ok talk laterTalkLater is my Uncle.You have a lot of people in your WigWarm.No not really in my Wig warm is only How.TeePee.Stop laughing now.And How.HowBrownCowOH BrownCow is daughter of HOW."

a prose poem

a rose stinks it smells like the thorn bush surrounding it the petals make perfume they call it attar and they sell it expansively in the stores they have a purple bottle eye purchased one for ewe in secret and she has it my love inside her heart so true this thorn is now her cause she loves me eye am special and one of a kind of a fellow that only she could love me like a lover satisfied the purple prose releases me like wine is called purple passion the grape of time tis of the essence smells like love is the glue is hard to shiff it gets me high on the hog the love is closer to the truth is better then the llie it fools no one is worried now for referances will be added the addition to the ell is longer then the house itself will never fall the freeway will expand contract and kill them all the drivers all the passengers take off the runaway beast is amuck us helter skelter the beatles bark the old cliches may seem atrocious is the amswers to the questors as they drink more sodden wine is the color of the grape on the vine is green is this prose poem in the money for the running water washes clean lucky ewe the end of story