Dear Lassy

''DEAR LASSY''

DEAR LASSY - I BELIEVE WITH GOD'S CONSENT AND THE HELP OF FRIENDS I HAVE LEARNED TO KEEP THAT ITCHY SALTPETER OUT OF MY PANTS!

- J. BILLET'S

My Dreams

"My Dreams"

I wish you were older and I was younger so we could catch up to each other and be lovers.  My lover never loved me, although she gave me plenty of charity.  Now she won't see me.  She has settled down because I never could.  I called her but she told me I was poison.  I was and probably still am.

What party do I belong to?  Well I have a latte in my potty.  Maybe the caffeine party.  The mean green caffeine party.  The ice-cream party.  The bar-mitzvah party, the bat-mitzvah party.  The birthday party.  The Whigs.  The Republican Party Of Wilson.  Gus Hall's Party.  The National Socialist Party.  The Worker's Party.  The Social Services Party.

Who do I write for?  Toys R' Us.  Macy's, G.E., and The California School Of Fine Arts headed by Anonymous Bosch.

What about if there is a circuit-stopper in my telephone.  Who will I get in touch with?  Look it up under Homeland Security in The Yellow Pages of your phone book.  If there is a rappin' tapper outside your window?  Look under "The Wind Howls Powdered Reigns."

J. Billet's - 02/24/12

Car Wreck On Stage 6

“Car Wreck On Stage 6”

A rat is hanging from my skin with razor-sharp teeth.  My flesh is stretched by the weight of the rat, fastened to it over a garbage can.  I can feel the sharp pain.  My mind is full of terror.  I can’t shake this thing off.  I’m in a jail cell in a small town in Alabama.  They’re torturing me with razor blades.  Cutting into my slashed back.  In a double-winged World War II plane.  I sit in the front seat with a headless pilot and I look down into his missing head.  It’s raining as we pass through the clouds, caked with dried blood up to my waist.  Flying out of this scene to you, my love.  I’m baking like a plastic insect in an oven.  Officer Rida has just stopped my car and is getting me out and making me walk through a freezing fall pond with dead brown leaves on top and bottom.  My tennis shoes are soaked through to my socks and my blue jeans are soaked up to my knees.  Love – most of what I texted you last night will be emailed to you.  Life itself will end.  But your love will last an eternity.  My heart will forever be full of the love you have bestowed on me.  You will live on through the best.  I can supply the world with the love I write about in my spoken and written words.  What makes you speak so loud in this world of deaf silence that screams in terror of its sanity?  Your children will live on and carry you through life.  I will die.  Happy heartbroken love – Billy.

J. Billet’s

Send My Regards To Broadway

"Send My Regards To Broadway"

The very first thing I'd like to send you is my regards.  The rest will come in good time.  I'll be glad to tell you a story.  The meeting with the rabbi was cancelled because I told him, like all the other religious and ethnic groups, the Jews had their Hitlers who murdered people.  One person's death is just as valid as ten people's deaths in God's I's.  But the guilty are not cognizant of who they are or who really does their dirty work for them.  I was listening to news reports about how we are going to bomb Iran in the spring's time.  This is like when we were planning to attack Iraq, which is a country we thought we knew about, but didn't know anything about the people.  After all, all them all are just like us.  One of the Senators was against going into Iraq and getting caught there, like Obama caught us up and double-crossed the dying Senator on the health bill along with it.  Whose health plan?  Obama casually walked by filled with pharmaceuticals in his back pockets.  Breaks for the conglomerates on Wall Street.  It's the economy, stupid! Were we better off four years ago stupid!  Who the hell knows or cares. Not big business or labor, they're doing quite well.  You say - You pay - If you play.  Go ask a socialist commie who was a Jew named Trotsky.  Look at what his comrades did to him!  I kept hearing this news on the radio about a pre-eminent strike that will be taking place in the nick of time.  I SAY ATTACK HEART!!!!!!!

J. Billet

        

1955 Patsy Sings

“1955 Patsy Sings”

In a honky tonky bar in Nashville, Tennessee, Patsy Cline is singing ‘Walking After Midnight.’  It’s a spring golden daisy night and she sings with a country twang in a beautiful, bluesy voice.  Accompanying her is an electric mahogany violin.  I’m in the crowd shouting for more while imbibing White Lightning on my feet.  I’m wishing my Valentine a “Happy Flower Day.”

Jonnie Goldprick

02/17/12

Alcoholic Ominous

 "Alcoholic Ominous"

Sadly, some people belong to "Alchoholic R' Us."

God's sweet songs are all sober.

It's always just a little extra.

A good car crash is what the boozer enjoys.

It's tougher to drive sober than drunk.

Alcohol shouts mirth but ends up in depression.

The alcoholic needs to think he is sober when drunk, but really isn't thinking at all.

Life is much more sober than alcohol.

Ten is the altitude of their choice.

The alcoholic will make every excuse when they don't exist.

Every sober person needs sustenance, sun, and sleep.

The alcoholic needs his bottle to pacify.

They make flip tops or funny lids for alcohol.

The green tea makes me flip my lid's id.

You can't put out a flame with alcohol in the brain, only start a fire.

Alcoholics are manic maniacs.

Alcoholics drink instead of eating.

Their food is booze.

The drunk hide their shame.

Life is a reality's hangover.

A drink to drugs and death!

Livers swell and drunks smell.  "Don't drink - Stay alive!"

“Please!”

When was the last time you heard a drunk make any sense when drunk?

About anything or everything?

The greatest gift God gave us when we were born was our sobriety.

Inhibition is shame but exhibition is alcohol's game.

The world isn't drunk, just beautifully stewed.

3 is the last letter of the alphabet to a drunk.

They drink numberered alphabet soup.

J. Billet's 02/22/12

Jolly Folly

"Jolly Folly"

People can't stand a living hell.


Some visit to stay.


Others never go away.


A new day has a stubborn way.


I can't put my hands around the world's head.


Would rather kiss you instead!


Sad world, shed your tears for me.


Thoughts we share grow.


Then they go.


New thoughts are really old.


Some are really quite bold.


Life's a story I'm told.


Life and love don't compare.


Believe me.


I've had my share.

By J. Billet