On Christmas Eve Morn, with lumps of coal in Santa’s Sleigh underway for Big Sisi n Bro, Mom awake No More.  That big check she expected in January she no live to see.  

Told you so, Mom. How they take care o me when neva they care for you?  So now Pillow Talk Abounds bout you, n I was left more than half dead unable to walk without props.  Now I sit counting the Pennies from Heaven left in my Kitty, hoping the money holds out til the 11th hour.

Me? I gotta stay. The Lord n Holy Ghost say, We no take her home today, she gotta spin more straw into Gold.  How we gonna replace her willing Sav-Da-Worl play?  We cannot let the money, stocks n land they stole from Gloria go uncontested since 2003 when she paid off her loan. For now we ignore what they took from Grandma n Dad all the years before.  

Lord when Ephesians 6 ain’t enuf, Whats A Girl To Do?  I rode the Chain of Command right to the Chief. Both Sides Now. No Joke. I even appealed to the Pope.  

My tweets helped many round the world. Leaders, pawns n knights. We built a beautiful coalition. Not to mention all the pundits, reporters, and politicians.  Lets not forget the movie producers n musicians who made a mint off me.  Before they were hacked by naughty political self-interest.  So many peeps it  reads like Santa’s Naughty & Nice List sans Nice:

Twelve Reports of Harassment to County Deputies who duly gave KNOCK IT OFF Orders Galore.

Eleven Safe Antelope n Deer cuz Big Bro can hunt no more.  Alas I hear he lost his gun in that Restraining Order.

Ten Thousand times Two Dollars wasted. No room at the Inn breeds travel expenses outrageous. Mom’s papers gone missing before she in her Grave. Big Bro n Sisi Close her condo before I can fly so  one other can smell bleach and ammonia that took out mother.  This year No Christmas Cookies, Dumplings, n Streudel aroma.   Pandemonium amok when Mom no wake Christmas Eve morn. 

Nine Falling Down Barns unkempt n unpainted. Grandma n Mom lie in shame. Overgrown weeds languish where once we shared lilacs, crab apples, raspberries, gardens n made happy memories.

Eight Lightning Storms n Eight Twisters the summer I camped on Dads hunting land tryna restore Mom’s Estate.  Her bequest, jacked by thieves like all the rest.  A lightning bolt fried my phone 2 feet from mi head, lotta sheep on that water bed.  

Seven crooked attorneys, the kind who fear the beach cuz a kitty may cover em with grains of sand.  Lawyers only too happy to steal my land title for a hefty fee charged to me.  Claim Jumpers that lower the Bar Association n Legal Disciplinary Council to such depths germs n amoeba gotta do the limbo.

Six Styx & Stones thrown at Mom & Me as cover for their mutiny.  When I lay in bed at Death’s Door unable to walk without props, the Holy Ghost said Not today. No more.  

Five RA-AIN BOWS. Five stolen Pots of Go-oo-old.

Four Pheasants n Quail a-nestin hoping for crumbs from Santa’s milk n cookies while he sits a’restin.  

Three Broken Hearts: Mom Dad n Me. Three Rolling in their Graves: Grandma Grandpa n Auntie
 
Two Deer when I awake. What do my wondering eyes see lying next to me but a doe n her fawn.  So happy are we dancing together to our favorite song, Angel atop the Christmas Tree.  

It appears deer love the country MUSEick I pen n inspire.  Neva said you made this mess all by yourself; did call that Bar Song.  Yep, Mom’s Cadillac is smooth fast car, even down that moving section line. Remember When it was a wild muddy Rollercoaster Ride?

Do you hear what I hear?  Even Clapton has a new CD release from his Blue Guitar.  How can it ever top “Wonderful Tonight”? One Woman, Clapton sings. Meanwhile, the cover aligns with my crayon designs.  Who uses Red n Purple?  Not me, I just took the first 2 crayons I see to Get Some Satisfaction from my burst of creativity as thru the Olympics I damce to old memories. Or was it Divine Inspiration not stopping me?

One Mount Rushmore of hijacked Gravel piled next to the 20 foot Drop Baby Dropped section line moving to n fro my land stipend. Right next to Aunt Mary’s Quarter. Honorable Mention she deserves for selling gravel since 1947 when for a dollar and the love and natural affection a man receives from his wife, she got all of his mineral rights.  That lasted until 1974 after which Aunt Mary got the Royalty No More.  Now Mary is Stuck in Lodi Again I hear.  

On Watermelon Moonshine Days Mom’s brainchild, you see Tractor Pulls tween light n Third Reich afore it runs outta fracked gas. The town swimming pool n Tennis Courts are Mom’s Crowning Glories too.  Fifty years later still running strong. Will Watermelon Days last as long as our very own Joe’s Bar which still held Grandpa’s name 70 years after he passed?

1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6- 7  Yes Grandma Lydia, all good children go to Heaven.  When they get there, they will shout, xxxx-xxxxx You Keep Out.  When they get there they will scream, you scream, I scream, we all scream for ice cream. 

Yes good, right n we will eventually win Hands Down.  But Grandma, Who’da thunk watching you play Solitare pointin out your misses n countin holes as you pull streudel would get me through years of solitary confinement? This torture akin to stories found in your stack of leatherbound Grimm’s Fairy Tales.  Yes, “the only sister I got” threw out your books unless she took those home too.  

Grandma, Can you believe asking for the card I need like you taught me to do grew into an “Ask n Ye Shall Receive to Make the World a Better Place”?  Our game now had wow’d so many, its replayed on repeat by the Power Pols in re-election campaigns.  

Just like you warned, they made lists, using illegal 24/7 military surveillance to force neighbors to rat trap n jack from their neighbors.  Nutting royal bout that i must be saying as you rolling over on that I am sure. 
But Dude who’da thunk they’d Catch Kill Plagiarize Sell 1000’s my pages books, drawings, manuscripts, notes, songs n riffs then MONKEY SEE MONKEY DO ME, my phone calls n problem solving.  Without giving me the promotion?  NO JOKE.

Such is the State of the Union. Bypassed me right off the Gettysburg Stop where I was gonna recite the Address you had me memorize. Drove me near crazy driving round n round in circles 20,000 miles running up a tab they stiffed.  But the 23rd Psalm is quite beneficial, My Reason for still existin.

Thank You Mr. Feisty for making us write n write n write.  I finally got down the rhythm and rhyme. Who’da thunk millions be copying me imitating you? Or that our following grew n grew n grew.  They say Pen mightier than Sword. Shared your public speaking tips and my additions on power to persuade n inform.  Lord I hope this ODE more effective than force.  How else we gonna restore fair order n equity?

O Holy Trinity, Thank you for one more celebrity warrior on a white horse.  Will he last or sell us out like ones gone before when faced with Big Bro n Sisi ultimatum, “Which you prefer, the Karat or the River Styx?”  

All rights reserved, this the 9th book along with 10 copyrighted Kid’s Books inline by Big Bro n Sisi’s Catch Kill Plagiarize n Sell Scheme.  

Paid to publish Books 1 n 2 , that be 
“Vertigo of My Soul” & “Least of My Brothers: My Forever Cuomo Crush.”  
3 to 8 still await including “Music at Sunset.”  

O to have my 1% share of profits on the F150 Trillion times Four made by others, especially Warner Brothers.

Who knew I had so many powerful exes, even some who live in Texas?That is a half written story.  After All, Tomorrow is Another Day.