Chapter 15
The great people of this nation have been working far too hard. This is disrespectful to humankind. The things you have accomplished and done to this very land is crime enough for us all. Indian, pale face, man, woman, yoked, child, those of the yonder, the wooded acres, infinity and beyond. Villages, towns, and cities of this great land that waves our way will no longer stand your ideals of humanity. The acts of yours is undignified to the deceased and the living. The cemetery plots have been raised to yield the very nonliving fireball walkers. We shoot unended at the wielded weapons of your choosing. My Gun’s and I will not stand down. I have the right to bare arms. Happy Independence Day. July 4th will always ring the reminder, but this year is different to our corinethians of the gritiron. For the roses. Let the wild mustang run free to trample the pansy. Cradle to grave; you are the highway man. Coffin Snatcher! Vote on liquor. The keep is secure. The women courted in these lots. One for every human. Yoke and expect the blessings of the King of Kings. Do as the bible says and for lovers bee doors be damned when the whores and witches, the no mans land seekers, the jumping jack flash and the obscene flasher come knocking asking for quarters our homes. You have nothing. You were born with nothing. Get off the ballot mayorial. There is no man like a mother scornes. I am the home. Vote Auntie; Madam President.” Ma sang it from the rafters of the court house. “Cupid rules the world. And always will.”
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