Hanniballs, Berlusconi and the Pope

He was ordained, the Chosen One

He had come from Carthage with

38,000 infantry, 8,000 cavalry, and 37 war elephants

Like his Grandfather not only did Hanniballs have to face

The extreme cold conditions with men unseasoned to the cold or mountain climbing but

Hanniballs croxxing the Alps

He knew there were 27 Bunga-Bunga girls waiting for him at the border of Menton

Enchanting, seductive Amazon Sirens

Fearless, they were ready to suck the trunk even out of Patraeus' Elephant

But Hanniballs was clever

He devised special crampons that allowed his 37 Elephants to go safely over a high Alpine Pass

He devised giant horse blinds in case his elephants ran into the Bunga Bungas

But Time was running short

Whereas his Grandfather hung l5 years in the Po valley eating truffles 

Hanniballs had to get to Rome fast

Berlusconi was getting elected on a bunch of lies and

The Pope was about to resign; the Vatican Papaless!

Rome would loose all morals

The Bunga Bungas would invade His Holy Quarters

Hurry Hanniballs, Hurry!

Fishwolf Poem

My uncle, who loved to drink tea

acted down and out complaining his head hunter had a 

pea brain                 he was caught red handed

for trying to steal the intimacy from the glory of

elves

And all the papers wrote about it in Geatland.

One day when the breaker of saucers cut himself

during an interview for a job                     

his battle sweat dripped (blood) on the desk

onto the floor of the conference room

he panicked and took to the whale road (sea)

but there was such a thick curtain of smog that he couldn't see the sky candle (sun)

so he lost his way and dove into a pub instead of mounting his horse of the sea (ship)

ordered a Chai latte with cinnamon and learned that the mead hall (pub) was going to close

The emptier of pints had long ago sang their songs

Those were the days when clients could boast of

hardship: seeker of fortunes, the Fort Knox of arms, the mender of bugs

and the healer of cats and dogs.

On a slight ginger buzz my uncle contemplated the joy of birds (feathers)

and the ringing of the needy

Where was a hunter when you needed one? he thought

A battle dance composed itself inside his head

He sipped another Chai latte as he saw a pretty

dwelling ornament (a woman) approach him by his side.

"Are you a ring giver?" she said in a husky voice

"No, I am a simple ghetto serpent" he replied

and with a quick move he danced across the pint plateau (the bar)

pretending to be a dragon with a flexible bone house.

"I am looking for my horse of the sea but

I got lost because the sky candle dipped

behind the curtain of smog

And thou, beauty of the retina, giver of chromosomes, babe of babes

Could you first guide me to the public receptacle of massive trash

As I have a cardboard shoe box to recycle

And as I am an earth walker without a sword's tree (warrior)

I would delight if your perfumed bone house would accompany me."

End of Part I