I think the Revolution might be all my Sister's fault.

Graphic by Buddy McCue. If you go to the subject panel on the left panel and click on his name, you can see more of his work. 

My Sister Margie is a righteous all hymning no sinning Bible believing Black Woman. Margie calls me her "Italian Sister." We canvased for Obama together. 

I wanted a house. Margie and I prayed about it. I got a house. I needed money for a new roof. We prayed about it. New roof. I do not invoke our little prayer circle lightly. Be sure you want whatever it is you trying to get from Universe. Hang with Margie and you might get it. 

About 6 years ago, Margie and I started praying for a Revolution. We were of the opinion that we needed one bigtime. Ta da! Shazam! One appeared.

I am a terrible Christian. Terrible. Lapsed Catholic. Angry Quaker. Margie is one of the best people I know. So, our current upheaval must all be Margie's fault. I know God loves me absolutely. I think God does not take me seriously. 

I know I am not the only one who takes Gil Scott Heron seriously.

I am a Twitter Reject

Twits say I advocated violence. I say I write Doggerel. Doggerel is vicious and funny and it has to rhyme. Meter is usually simple. Twitter told me "Here's your hat, do not come back."

Here is my crime in a poem below. I also said Kevin McCarthy is a dumbass. That made me persona non grata. Oh, and I suggested facebook and twitter be made public utilities. I just do not know how to shut up.

Spineless Susan is a dick.
Smack her with a goodly stick.
Eat her liver with a nice Chianti
Or beat her peacefully with Avenatti.

How about a filthy one just for fun. Hey, after a dry  time, at least I am writing.

Song #2 for My Hero

Avenatti does not come from Madras
But his balls must be made out of brass.
In Stormy weather,
They clanged clang together
And sparks burned Michael Cohen in the ass.   

  copyright MDeAngelis