Gas wouldn't matter if I'd had a mule,
I'd have my forty acres, and I'd rule;
and cash, had I stashed it in my mattress--
Screw Wall Street!--STILL have it all, n' God Bless.
Had I never let me credit-mindset
a mortgage manse for a neat shack, short debt;
nor spurn depression lessons from the folks;
I'd be no punch line in the profit joke.
Who are these clapping malingering clowns
whether the Dow goes up or down? Some sport!
Some day they'll be seen as the bums they are--
that "free market" means I sleep in my car.
Yo! Tough times returning, boom and bust towns,
aren't new; just News, to those who sell us short.
A sad testament to what surving has come to. My dear father never believed in credit...if he couldn't pay for it with cash, he didn't need it. I'm thinking he had the right idea. Good job Helga.
Major League ballplayer Justin Moore is kidnapped from his own ballpark and transported to a foreign land. It might take high-level international negotiations to free him. Or maybe he will take matters into his own hands.
Imogene, a country-bred girl, longs to make a life for herself in New York City. She joins forces with her former college roommate to start a movie production company in the big city.
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Anna
Edwin
I have enjoyed the reading of "A Loser's Lament". Striking, stimulating and instructive poetic excellence.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
fee
Be always safe,
Karen
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