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.