Ashy Lendsday at the Library part 2

Knives tend to raise more questions than they answer.  What do we call this new world of order divided?  Hierarchical tribunals convene to recess.  Weapons, instruments of fear, suspend students, brought to shock.  Moonlighting barbers fill the lowest military ranks in Quantico City, less than privates.  777 Enemies looking inimical:

It must be noted that men with bad instincts are more in number than the good, and therefore the best results in governing them are attained by violence and terrorization, and not by academic discussions.  Every man aims at power, everyone would like to become a dictator if only he could, and rare indeed are the men who would not be willing to sacrifice the welfare of all for the sake of securing their own welfare.

               What has restrained the beasts of prey who are called men?  What has served for their guidance hitherto?

               In the beginnings of the structure of society they were subjected to brutal and blind force; afterwards – to Law, which is the same force, only disguised.  I draw the conclusion that by the law of nature right lies in force.

               Political freedom is an idea but not a fact.  This idea one must know how to apply whenever it appears necessary with this bait of an idea to attract the masses of the people to one’s party for the purpose of crushing another who is in authority.  This task is rendered easier if the opponent has himself been infected with the idea of freedom, so-called liberalism, and, for the sake of an idea, is willing to yield some of his power.  It is precisely here that the triumph of our theory appears: the slackened reins of government are immediately, by the law of life, caught up and gathered by a new hand, because the blind might of the nation cannot for one single day exist without guidance, and the new authority merely fits into the place of the old already weakened by liberalism.

From: Protocols of the Wise Men of Zion, from: Behold A Pale Horse by William Cooper, pg. 268

               Repulsion, revulsion, and rebellion are the initial responses, followed by the nauseating realization that rest and relaxation liberalism and the power-thought structures touted in college, university, and other institutional settings are just those worthless beliefs that tend to express indignation at the idea of challenging private removal for war-time scenarios.  Elevating the masses to intellectual extremes, knowledge, like drugs, makes animals out of addicts who activate and catalyze the good times in their minds set to self-destruct like a calm time-bomb at the application of simile, sheathing discomfort in the darkness of obscurity, numbed by those drugs that in fact erode those synapses that vary chemical connections between parts, so inherent to our very survival (opiate).  It’s so hard to keep up the act: as if I myself don’t desire to obtain those appurtenances that would allow me to just tune out… “All science is merely a means to an end.  The means is knowledge.  The end is control.”

In order to achieve a totally predictable economy, the low-class elements of the society must be brought under total control, i.e., must be housebroken, trained, and assigned a yoke and long-term social duties from a very early age, before they have an opportunity to question the propriety of the matter.  In order to achieve such conformity, the lower-class family unit must be disintegrated by a process of increasing preoccupation of the parents and the establishment of government-operated day-care centers for the occupationally orphaned children.

               The quality of education given to the lower class must be of the poorest sort, so that the moat of ignorance isolating the inferior class from the superior class is and remains incomprehensible to the inferior class.  With such an initial handicap, even bright lower class individuals have little if any hope of extricating themselves from their assigned lot in life.  This form of slavery is essential to maintaining some measure of social order, peace, and tranquility for the ruling upper class.

Pg.39-40

And perhaps he who desires to rule on his own behalf and establish for himself his own house and hierarchy of control outside a particular jurisdiction must recognize his own esteem and assert his own control.  There is no hierarchy of control that one is obliged to follow, no man that one is obliged to worship, and God or the cosmic consciousness knows the hearts of men, if you happen to read The Bible or subscribe to unified field theory.  Popular paranoid delusions haunt the minds made manifest to UFO, infesting again the collective with deceptions devoid of pure reason and full of little lies.  Strange advice, that which demands literal obeisance in perpetuity.  What is brought to the mind of the reader, a degenerative sort of thinker, digesting those things oft unfounded by inductive reasoning is:

Generally speaking, the significance of the indirect results may very often be of more importance than the significance of direct ones. And since we are able to trace how the energy of love transforms itself into instincts, ideas, creative forces on different planes of life; into symbols of art, song, music, poetry; so can we easily imagine how the same energy may transform itself into a higher order of intuition, into a higher consciousness which will reveal to us a marvelous and mysterious world.

P.D. Ouspensky, Tertium Organum

               In this terminal light, the end of the world happened by detonating the Hydrogen of HelioJupiter by crashing 31 tons of raw Plutonium into it via rocket while playing Martian Bossa nova while one man recorded the event in a secluded dorm room somewhere in a buffalo winter land surrounded by bonhommes de neige (snowmen).

               “you’re bound to upset a number of people that way, you know,” Sno1

               “I know I know, but the patterns are clear!  The coordinates are just coincidentally dividable by prime numbers?  I THINK NOT!  That’s exactly what they want us to believe for their primary objective of deriving power from the human element, isotope…”

               “Dinner!”  3^rd square meal of the day? Nine nerds reconnoiter.

               “it is no wonder your friends think you’re crazy…true or not…this seems irrelevant to anything unless you want it to be!”  Everything’s relevant on the mayan schemata…  “Given the absence of evidence to corroborate theoretical backing, I would infer that the ends are not yet met, thus nullifying the assertion of your tone until some sort of control constant is established in your life.” SnoT

               “The rock of my being weighted in as a quantity capable of being statistically analyzed does more to nullify my beliefs as a man of transcendental beginnings immune to the ills of the worlds working Roshaniya to my undoing.”

               “As we are all of the same birth, born of the blood, titles are to be earned in one’s life through hard work alone,” said Pir1.  “Inductive reasoning indicates thus, that practical skepticism is quite possibly seneschal to good faith.”

               Sickle the end.  Reap the benefits.  Fuck your OCD.

Ashy Lendsday

               The Messianic tribunal meets to glory-5 the numerological signs that serve to denominate the #1 righteousness that forms wet statistical dogma that we dimensional bodies must fully coincide in order to appease our segments inhabiting for a time, this place.  Statistical facts fill the air with substance that I may never fully know, ideas that (only I?) I only imagine exist.  I’d rather not breathe your substance for second hand substances metastases.  I smoke to give my words gravity, weight, and substance en mass. Let’s take time back to a simpler time when things were simply black-and-white, when there were no of these gray/grey areas of matter that are really only metaphor for ugly rainbows.

               May I please choose the topic?  Etiquette?  You wish to discuss etiquette?!  Etiquette, the only way to challenge/oblige those of certain stature who have what I need when I don’t otherwise know what I want, so I look towards what those smiling faces have!  Being in a position of having the upper-hand when it comes to negotiable good(s), the proper balance must be struck between offending (to score points with the upper ideal) and poised courtesy.

               D.J.’s general consultants: you need the time and I have a trench coat full of diversely handled watches! Do I have the ability to paint the room at the color of light?  This is sure to deflect attention.  Luminescent beings create their own mood lighting: Blue faith, white purity, black knowledge, green ingénue, red passion, and yellow…yellow.  Your office takes the profits while I, the prophet, enlightens, untangles, and ascends the ranks honestly through honesty with a halo of broad purple.

[Hassle Jeff.  Anger or enrage your local drummer.  Give him a reason to beat.  You’re welcome.]

Speak for yourself.  ‘We’ is a clause of abstractions and generalized assumptions that reflect the reader’s general condition, assuming we’re all in this together in this transcendental photograph framed singularly within the unified field theory, story of the universe, or how we arrived on this giant green farm come to be fruitful and yielding.

How we came to be together, you and me, is both complex and intriguing.  Hypothetically speaking, hypotheses yet unproven fail to prevent a generalized belief system of thought patterns and structure that we may or may not share together in the wet lab, (yet we must assume we share, through faith, under the blue).  What is yet unproven in the scientific realm under close observation and dynamic mood light is outside weather.  What I fail to express is moot.  Here to delve into moo-issues, surpassing a single bovine moment in the confusing green fields of naiveté here to ruminate concurrent events that may or may not affect outcomes, depending on my openness of recognition or ability to recognize or discern the tides of lunar bodies drawn, taut.  The isobaric chamber of secret expectations made artificially consistent through rigorous routine and steel scaled to articulate the mechanisms of a particular artifice designed to produce “altered states” of consciousness schematically constructed to darken that area of the mind, consumed by the utter density and obscurity that fails to communicate any form of pure intention, the benefits of artificial Bonheur.

Broken dreams: broke and dreaming of a day when I will be whole again, defense mechanisms conceal these for a brief moment.  There are ugly things best left unsaid when slavery alarms my watch into piss-poor action without satisfaction.  Use your enemies.  They make a big deal out of nothing.  With pin-point piercing pupils pricking painful sentiments, there’s clearly something buried deep within trying to get to something (a message), attempting to reach some level of attainment.  There is something I want brought to my scheming attention in any event.  Hoping that answers will be attained from within, I become outwardly extroverted with an insatiable desire to express an interpretation I can only hope is honest, hope is abstract, hope is imaginative, hope is pure, yet hopefully hope will give way or yield to knowledge of fulfillment and hopefully in less than fifty years time!  [My black propeller; private vehicle; inexhaustible gas, energy, or motivation]

Fat 'who you callin' Tuesday?

Fashion faux-word journalism! The ingénue mariachi!  TV-Radio at its best!  Sex sells subterfuge.  Agkistroden piscivorus xerostomia: the cottonmouth snake with dry-mouth, a scaly experimental methereptil-amphetamine.  Domesticate a PETA activist (carpenter bee slavery)> Lin like an idiot. 

Self-medicating, the wank and tranq polypharmacy vico-benzoid-Ee-tee-oh-haych-Rhine-wine of the grapevine police, tapping communication matrices and diverting the sticky wicked, stopping the juices of Moses’ miracle rock struck with a staff providing white noise of hypervigilance looping reboot timing stereo antennae rocking R.E.M. choral lullabies ill with soup for the soul that serves to warm my eigen[“own”]space vector variables that motivate natural numbers, characteristic of individuals composed of primary theorems with zero ability to solve problems, a black hole from which zero kinetic energy escapes the tongue of the bottomless gut and the endless undulating snake.  “Word sword swords!”

022012

Plastic surgery with a friend!  Under the limits
of duress, Frank blurted out, “weweresowrong!”
Dancing at the Devil’s Underground, bearing an
ass worthy of witness, modern heliopaths Moon
the Sun. “We have gathered from your bag of
tricks, Frank, your honest extremes have taken
a liking to abstruse confetti. Your simple refusal
to allow comprehension of vocabulary has left us
in a bind, mentally constipated. We understand
that life is short for a tall motherfucker such as
yourself, nonetheless, we have come to the con-
clusion that you must be sent out of the Under-
ground and into the spaces that collide with the
clouds in the mountains.  While we respect and
commend the contributions that you have brought
to the affiliation between our often discordant
parts, we are nonetheless consumed with seeing
your ass in parting.  If you look even half as good
going as you do coming, you will do well in pleasing our organizational aesthetics with your removal.”
At these times, freedom bargains with it a sense of worthlessness that free things brought to give away.  One planet’s silver is another planet’s gold in the extraterrestrial elementary relief map distribution of tangible statistics.  Just as we often decide and come to the conclusion that certain friends are more valuable than the alternate extreme, it is only natural for a man to desire surrounding themselves with good things, nay, good art!  Art contributes to the atmosphere of thou; the aura of intangible living that is how we all wish to express ourselves on an elementary level of freedom within limits of certain value.  Upon finding that our company was no longer of certain value to the governmental sharks, no longer capable of affording the fellowship of heirs, apparent by their ability to give away things of cultured concern, nay, the things that convincingly concern certain segments of have-nots who want the things that our neighbors can’t distinguish much less afford. Even if they knew how to cloak themselves in the airs of the hoity-toity, the upper-class act is one of even grander convincing than a fur coat and dress slacks.  The activists are just jealous that in order to act they must believe in something convincingly self- righteous as the injustice of nauseous squeamishness at certain sights that are clearly discernable betwixt the sanguine crimson flow of suffering that heat and pressure boils, even as the blood in their own veins.  Sometimes a stranger displaces my face in the vain looking-glass.  Sometimes I am unable to give a shit. 

(Even the greatest stars Kraftwerk in The Hall of Mirrors being looked through at a face affixed.)

He was pure in spirit and German blood and fervor that can only be made blindingly apparent on the faces of the blonde-haired and blue-eyed treats who colonize the vast hinterland of open socialist dialogue beyond our domicile, yet remaining loyal to the cause of fluctuating currency on pennies per dollar, in U.S. standards.  A Grant of Old Crow, distilled a controlled, unconventional warpath through the ghetto, fixating on relative differences between birth-mothers, hopelessly breeding in a fucking eugenics laboratory for ABO-whatever dirt-bloods who fail to recognize the inherent godliness of racial purity within geographical limits and universal ideals on the whole. Erect the light-barrier, repellant of all shades, warding evil of all kind ever so lightly into the darkened ends of universal consciousness we care not about in our charitable circle of friends, present with soul, living though documents.  Bemoan and bewail the martyrs!

If I didn’t know any better I’d say so myself!

Unemployed stay at home pre-professional-looking looking for cash now to settle scores with old loan- sharks seeking answers from miniature tapestries representing the busts of dead presidents on the green-minted garment garnered for the purpose of refreshment obtainment.  Consistent with the beliefs held by many a guacamologist (a thick saucier), pampering preferred clientele will afford generosity implicit on contributing a skilled craft to those seeking nothing more than a pillow and a banana to rest comfortably in a nighty-night time negligee.  In order to build my immune system and pay the bills, I have decided to become my own favorite author.  I read books!  I write!  I could contribute covered pages complete with common themes, characters, and style!  Show off.  This activity would be for charity if I had more money in my bank account ($3) and I weren’t paying for a coffee with small change and for cigarettes on credit.  I just don’t want to burden society with my vices. I’ve thought about discontinuing my diet-in favor of what?  South Beach?  Atkins?  I am not currently up-to-date on these things so I’m on the black juice diet, Columbian rose of bean.  Rose water cuisine, (hydrosol-damascena-linalool) “good” cholesterol, and ethyl in Iran gets me beheaded, and wouldn’t I, even I show off my own head unto the infidel?  “Do you see what happens when I break custom?  I lose my own head!” and like a clock on the hour, I lose it to the birds.  Amenable amenities compliment the experience of living here and dying here happily.

(Janis Joplin to M.I.A.)

A Modigliani male model with a thick, veined neck, representing stiff power/delicate grace, (In 50 Years We’ll All Be Chicks, Carolla.) and Sports Illustrated™’s swimsuit issue will be a striated compendium of butch, muscular elegance come to titter and paint offensive nipples come to breastfeed pragmatic pornography, DD measurements of babies meeting the teat, if you choose to frame it that way, the way our forefathers envisaged and intended for us to care about milk.  “Buffalo was good yesterday, for once,” an All-America city, example for One Nation Under a Groove come to get down just for the Funk of it.  …And beneath the valley?  Oil. Coal. Black gold.  Terrestrial energy.  Pit people of the Frank Lloyd Derricks pumping and churning out pure architectural soundness.  One sexy good time!

1,333 Words in the night, 21912

Pharmaceutical messiah, messenger of the East,
with the knowledge of Lucifer-Satan-Devil: [LSD]
Angel of Light and suffering; a contradiction
of agreements.  Because orcs follow the morning
star and yet curse its might to make us live against our own falling shadow
a leaf falling into itself, imploding with
combustable prescience.

Et tu Dominae?  Looming Black Widow,
Red hour glass, knowing. My God! Selah.
the time of my demise.  Only YOU may
take me untarnished through the flame of
yielding.  The challenge of my respite, my bed,
unlit. “Television (the home alter)
succeeded the movies and their once
populous and ornate temples, modeled
tastefully on baroque and Byzantine
themes, fell empty, as the old gods
moved to join the new hierarchies,
becoming the domesticated godlings of
television which, although it held the
attention of the majority of the population,
did not enrapture, nor possess dreams or
shape days with longing and with secret
imaginings the way the classic figures
of an earlier time had.” Vidal, Messiah, pg. 46.

Have you ever been so full that
you needed EtOH to go to sleep?
Most certainly no!
Quite the ensemble we have
lined up tonight! [Hereafter]
Fork tongue slit! Pointer!
Don’t stop! See through it! Yes,
you are being made fun of.
Yes, you are being laughed at.
Yes, you laugh sometimes at yourself. Not
often enough, following bliss,
chasing ignorance into the
RED FRONTIER! ‽

The ecumenobot 3046 the re-
abler forseeing all 3046 options
of positive fulfillment. ‘No One
Knows’ is what he calculates,
laughing.  My parents catch me
in a practical joke.  I feel
upset.  Volleyball comes to mind,
then my stomach, acid, LSD.
Aways’n 4ever Proust
craven 4 affection – tout spit
affectation.
I’m the one 3 log              who never
fulfilled his                          commitment
                and                        wouldn’t
                                                commit.

*Frog’a’chu* a sneezing panther,
“Run!” said the spring leader
into his generation of circumscript
                on into submission for the
main event for the leader, for the
Lord. Yawn. You keep me waiting, love.
Rich feedback, barfight/-ite
spilled out onto the streets I call
home, paradise.  Isn’t that
nice to hear? I think so too.
Snot it out. The lights spike.
The darkes defend their position whole-
heartedly, all talk.  The lights win
in a blind bluff of cognizance.

I do my best thinking over being
modest and meaningful in all events
pertaining to the main event, our
overstated lives that attend the tent
circus of martial arting-ting
elephants on Barnum and bran-d-
iet, aley, ∞, & (sick turtle)
confidence, confidence…
Posture brimming with respect
for creation or tossing and turning
in ecstacy (on my back) bolting;
Big Yawn! O2 deficient. Pos.
Piece O’ Shit bagpiper O’F~
OFoe FEDawn scale ∏

All of a function, brimming with
respect for the overseers of pres-
cience.  Your base, Your base
Chlor-gone® Ah! The Sun god;
Hair-culitis, the enflamed fro-
style, my bushy bits’n’berries
Descent of Man, Darwin,
understanding the stiff ape.
Monkey see, monkey differ
on opposite sides of the green
glass mechanism, futuristic
*shhlock*”shh!” I’m watching the
scenes change gradually in
on respect to Shatner,
the unknown captain of Trek.

Remote pleasure, dull pain,
star gazing as a habit
persists as one of my ∞
to-do’s, miting bright
spots on stained sheets of
black ink representing red
dwarf metaphors. Death,
the final forgiveness, last
chance! Take your pick! It’s
the moth-bitten lottery!

Dark oaths, rites performed
at a flat, through a loud-
speaker that shall never be
repeated not uttered to any ord-
inary soul you come across, not
through.  There were some just there
for cheap laughs and innocent
fun.  Too bad for them. Damnation.
Beaver oaths, take me to my woo-
den fortress of needed to get
some sticks. H-E-X-X
Ded rodent, varmint tooth gum.
Galileo, figure-o the Queenie’s
broadside stare of twigs for
crosses and burdens for fashion.

It’s complicated, UNME
Knock me off, killer crow
knock me off to sleep or
something like a wish
to the toothfairy.
Wrong person! B+W.
Not always, enough.
Order in the class-
room! Take your
fair share of re-
sponsibility for the
coming workweek,
we aren’t children any-
more, by God! Jove, or
the devil who put us here.

I don’t make these de-
cisions, and neither do
you apparently because
the scores are back
from corrections and
a few of you will be
upset with the
sentence.
Relax. Don’t nuke ‘em.
Take your time. Cook.
There are liniments
in the tub more likely
this scene pays cre-
dence to fears we all
must be having and
mistaken for undertaking
circumstances with
actual events, unspecific
enough for the ‘rents.
$ to find out.
Collapsible Weezer
Roadie brought a chair
for nana, groupie.

Now that we say ‘we know better,’
AM I actually learning less
because of you? KNOWLEDGE is
Power and you leave me at a de-
ficit. Put me to batteries for
feedback.  War, warm me, MIC.
Slap that mother ficking look from
you cold-dead face Mor-Mor.
Hardening BLValves fill with
plaques of TFulfillment, ready
to die with both hands tied behind
my back with my fingers crossed.

For the betterment of electroburger
unleashed, unhinged, and found out
to be a lonesome sweater. Out of
space, out of time, I am that
fire-breathing dragon that story-
books read about your dreams.
I am that underlying current of
suppression, self-control, and mu-
tilation that the Wavves cover.

Pixy Plutarch the shoot-a-
historian safari travel guide.

Sexy can feel necessary, uncom-
fortable, and a sore travail for
those who abuse relations and
fail to acknowledge dire
relationships to the Risen.

Indeed, the fountain of all holiness
springs from one eternal source
who forgives, sheds light. I
want him to cry. I want him
to feel my anguish, because
He’s the only one who can help.
He’s the only one who matters, and
He’s taken with him my soul and
my experiences unto the tabernacle
of the most high for appraisal
and edification like a commodity
that I, even I thought would
buy me security from smites.

Constant upkeep is a shawty
bucket underflowing out the
bottom and into the sod.

Promises pac-man my ringu
Smaller circles fraction profits.
Selfishness is an objective qual-
ity of objectifying my mirror
know better, how I look, smell,
I am a bitter plumber with
shitty hands, ill-fitting pants,
and a rotten belly. The ab-
sence of evil retains no city.
evil, no, just another night
out at any old bar in any
old city just to feel normal
again, crazy for you, my love.

A mathematical boxer-brained obsession.

Life in the box of a spiraling addict.

If history teaches us any lesson,
it is how to know and recognize
symbols from patterns in your
ways, through your archetypes,
my physiognomal-[X Stan Lee
Mallrat] ly expressed body-type
of blind faith biology flying
with one wing in the face of(conventional wisdom)
the Drosophila collecting madman,
scientist, and project manager
with whom secrets are withheld
from the community for lack of
interest in the overall welfare
and well-being so long as it’s less.

“Kiss me like you mean it, Judas,”
Jesus, the strong-willed freak
said unto my luxuriant velleity
buffeting me with generous
offerings I don’t deserve.
15-steps           deep within
the belly of      the monument.
the pyramid song calumny
writes for employees of a
shallower grave whom I order
to dig deep for Pharaoh and
empty your pockets into his
coffers if you liked how he taxed.

The seven deadly senses of pride
and purpose realign seven times
the physical complimentary balance.
Reduction in one heightens
or strengthens the others in
fullness of flesh and fatty
substances that stand by and
watch the freak-show parade
down the vein drinking row of party
faces come to get dark together
beneath lights that purposefully con-
ceal superficial blemishes only to
reveal real ones barely mentioned
in books on observed behaviors
of my fellow man in a wet setting.

I didn’t ask for reality, I asked
for a mnemonic tabulation of
concurrent events.  Imagination,
you use it, not me, friend.

Perfect Hair!

Is He who stands over every soul marking its action [in need of any partner]?

“Yet they ascribe partners to God.  Say, ‘Name them,’ or ‘Can you tell Him about
something on earth He does not know to exist, or is this just a display of words?’
But the things they devise are made alluring to disbelievers and they
are barred from the [right] path: no one can guide those God leaves to stray.
There is a punishment for them in this world, but the punishment of the Hereafter
will be harder – no one will defend them against God.” Qur’an 13:33-34

“All knowledge of the scripture comes from Him.” 13:45

Perfect Hair!
Leaf Lip chimney thumb screw face the hair bigot
Holly Mistletoe kiss torture difference accuser
Cactus assed dementor of the green glass door
Wolly Wolly Hot Sauce Committee 6D Mores
Chauncey Capsaicin Make-Believers Dismantle Dismayed Unbelievers
Requisite alterations; Surely Imperfect
Ramp Button Temple
Elevator Handicap Smite
The temple of Israel riven~           perfection
                                                            is realized
                                                            thru action:
                                                            action is
                                                            realized thru
                                                            change

Indians walk confidently
On coals; through fire
Upon kinetic insulation, soft white idea
Taking powah! W h o k i l l humiliation from behind…
Pushed through heat lamps
The abominable pet snake
Uniform snowflake
Desert Icicles Frosty Top-Hat Coals, Pipe
Action is realized in us all,
Death, the realization of action
perfected…happens to us all…some more than others…
Action’s uniform resultant is its cease…Surcease!  Life ceases ceasing as the seas sing ‘spring and neap!’

AVD Reader

Anti-Valentine’s Day.  Working holiday, opposed to the rest we typically take off into the sheets of promiscuity:
Without any real goal in mind, it becomes difficult to stray from topic.  For argument’s sake, I won’t
be convincing.  What’s the point?  Buttooloveyes of green*           The efforts that I can’t help but
lean up against as I make the squeeze betwixt the rock                     and the hard place through which
I love to explore and spelunk.  The blood on the walls                       on either side take the form and
represent to me a Jackson Pollock.  Perhaps he too was                   once inspired by these same
scenes of ores up-close.  If only I had a name for this rock.  Crossword rock.  Answer stone.
Why won’t you tell me?!  The journey stole my hand that I was going to use to feed myself and
slap something tumescent.  Ever since the irresponsible mishandling of goods going to port
I’ve found it difficult to regain the confidence of my peers beyond the more ‘mature’ types who
think they know how to behave and are in the mood to show me (they don’t).  Mothers and
fathers amongst us, raising kids like billy goats, just seem to give up.  Feeding them anything
to elicit that clever grin of knowing how to obtain rewards at an early age.  They know how
to elicit the appropriate responses from their parents to get what they’ve been given by retracing
knowing footsteps.  They avoid punishment just the same, knowing how to avoid being seen, playing
invisible in shades of histrionics. (Math-o-d acting)

               Now that we’ve put the freeze (frieze?) on the crystal mirror, we may isolate just what
we intend to abstract from the variable, selling the face to the community that…stuck…must
moose (mousse?) hair!  Moose grin.  Moose charge!  Americans express the Zoolander blue-faith
of a frontier martyr lookin’ cowboy in skinny jeans and expensive boots and a hat hard to run
in from Milan or the south wedge of somewhere important soundin’.

               Waxing Brazilian, the freaks of beauty stamp my passport with the standard I’ll be
sure to both uphold and set until my documents expire.  That’s assuming they’d let me in.
This is wishful thinking, hasn’t happened yet in objective reality.  Por tu geese, let me fly
south for the winter, beyond climate and into hemispheres that may just belie the surface
or the crust of a place, (at least I could go to TLC and to waterfalls chased, (a poor country
is an imaginary place?)) in dreams that represent grandeur, a metaphor for something my life lackest
to the degree of latitude smackest, dabbest in the middle of a she-makin’; up for something…

*FRANKENSHEEP RENEWEL of the Biological Freak who has an objective REASON To be Paranoid!

Mardi gras gatsom fortudae

Know there’s no ‘I’

in the darkness before
dawn and her followers.
Influencing inner tubes
the repetitious speak
and utter prayers to
be heard a million
miles away in other
parts of the world;
feelings best abandoned
if that were the cap-
able case, murder for
recognition, recognition
for neglect.

Shirking both duties, the
love of one child is no
different from being
alone…~whatever,
The Holy Spirit full of
emotion? I don’t think
so…solace in science,
reason, and withholdings.
Invest like a champ,
today, anything could,
would, and should
happen if only you
would let it.

My pride growing in
vanity farts aero-
ponics, loco plants
snakes can see (IR)
and hares catch wind of
through the vine of
indeterminate magnitude
or size in space not
shaking.  Life giving
bread, this saving crust
passes for something
solid that only an
Indian would touch.

Native Comstock Lode
African ghost of a dream (nights
ago) whanted something I had…
                chased me down, fought
me for it.  I am uncertain in
uncertain times.