As I prowl around the early morning hubpages I see scraps of raw poems here and there and inevitably must eat them....

I saw FaireMaid's hub Are You A Car Slob? and in reply to a comment by Brennan Kingsland she says ....Near perfection is hard to find.... the lines of this poem occurred to me;-

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I awoke this morning near Perfection

i.e. beside a town called Perfection

I had been out drinking and womanizing

and ended up in a camper with some Amazonians

No not the big, deep breath, 6'6" chicks

anyway two late 40's merchandisers, brunettes.

traveling the country for Amazon

mall marauders, I stopped to flirt and ended up here,

dumped on the side of the road near Perfection

over politics,

imagine nothing to do with the dishes, laundry duty

taking out the dog, holidays or MONEY

they were Republicans from the West coast,

I'm still in shock

like a foretelling of doom on the Gulf of Marxico

hungry hurricane refugees roam

searching for sterile crocodiles eggs

the uniformed American police state

emergency lit with foreign oil

bulging at the seams with rolls and rolls of authority fat

Never mind, we're all blow ins...

do not take your country too seriously, you just live here...

in a few decades America might be;-

free again *

thin again *

financially viable again *

*pick any two

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..