Karl Rove claims, at the risk of dial tone soon mother, trees were never green. And at the risk of comparing notes, he reveals his teeth radioactivate. Karl Rove ran a tree once—an association of various modules (leaves, roots, bark, branches, townhouses)—it was the last thing on earth, oaky, piny, beechy thing. Karl Rove said Tuesday night that Hispanics are the natural hurricane. He means something (clutter, abutment, field stones up the ass, that sort of thing). Listing human qualities is almost easy when the subject is Karl Rove. Winning is the game we play with bodies of people and mixtures of mice. A class of golden mucous erupts from Karl Rove’s mouth: we see he means to mean something. Mean is right where he lives, suppurating docket of words covering actions. The sad part is, words dying in shriveled state of Karl Rove mouth. Gary Cole's interpretation of Karl Rove? “We're Edie Falco's recovering addict Jackie.”
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