I sit…

hoping Jim Jordan is fast at work, as I write, at two am., furiously ripping through trails and trellises of financial skyscrapers with a single shot of hot espresso…

allst the while inspired by crazy classical music of Mozart Madness leading to a miraculous crescendo of the golden transactions what spread this hate and ignorance of centuries across our country…

Spitting in the face of Israel.

Tormenting hostage families.

I’ve worried about Hersh, the individual, unknown to me, that I witnessed missing part of his god given body while being hauled away in a barbaric place with barbaric captors.

The horror, the torment of the unknown and everything bad imagined 24 hours a day, with a moment or two of a hope ray that he is OK and will return on a day as miraculous as any movie these heartless, stupid youth have ever sat on their ignorant asses watching as they cry like b*tches for a made up thing.

Souls carry the things we do and I hate for them the years they’ll spend later, when all is calm again, and they’re a rusty tool and reflect. If they can, that is.