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 May 2018 Busbar Dancer
wordvango
data
all arranged collimated
in neat rows columns
speading sheets all laid out
on rooftops with SOS
written in red paint calling hecilopters
help us it says
water is good unless it inundates
and is ***** with sewage and the government flies by
looking but doesn't do it
before it ends there are accountants
adding tallies costs against lost lives on
a white sheet a
gamma line
going steadily up to the right corner
of a clean paper sheet maybe a posterboard for added
emphasis
etchy red line exponentially  rising up up away
in that line are lives against costs the government
sitting on markers
red crayons calculators
basing missions against costs like lives are expendable
how much can we spend for a bunch of creoles or  ****** in New Orleans,
someday white folks you gonna be the minority.
I'm
red
I'll rate in the minority
no matter what.
they may like us to dance

twice

louder,  a chance

to

face up

to smile



we  have always danced

it is  a family



trait



look sideways

think lateral



forget the emerald

and dance



looking the other way



mainly
It was a stormy Wednesday night
I turned all the car lights off
Let the thunderstorm light my way
Terrified of the dark
Not because of the monsters hiding in the shadows
No, I know the real monsters lie waiting in my head
They know exactly what to whisper to make my heart drop
How did they ever get so clever?
Stopping in the middle of somewhere close to no where
Wanted to have a talk with the devils on my shoulders
Ask the one with the white wings
How we ended out this far
And of the faintest whispers
I heard
If angelic beings were to fall to this world of ours
I think even they would commit many wrongs
That’s what the dark brings
is it any wonder
social constructions
**** the soul?
i am born.

entire constellations
ingested by men
who stole the
braver buck.

is it any wonder
the higher numbers
**** the low?

artists hide their holy
proper alkahest
swirl into the torrent
eyes fixed on the hole
going full Atropos
by slashing tethers
and teaching us to fly

is it any wonder
construction kills abstraction
encrusts the brilliant stone
in destructive gray?

is it any wonder
emotional capacities
have been bled from me?
they must bless the fallen
they must make Halal
the bounteous
human feast

an exoteric world rises
while one esoteric burrows
in bright dark underneath.

two parts of a whole broken
banished to disconnection
when dichotomies could meet.


. . . SCAN COMPLETE
I load a fat bowl.
I insert stem.
I trust my lips
at the hole.

I see a split world.
I hold it in.
I let the lies
matter not.

Beyond a pale veil
beats the bitter heart
the soul of destruction.

In its own realm
it lacks the fear to lie
so it reigns unashamed.

I burn more trees.
Invite the ash in lung.
I cough out Ebajalg.
Invite the joy return.

Wind through the lazy curtains of my window,
Music enter my limbs through vibrations in my toes,
Lit only in moon and blue cyber light I ignite the signal fire,
For someone, somewhere, also in sweat in demon dance.
We do not burn books in America
We just ignore them, for we light our nights
And burn away our individual souls
Upon an altar green, clean plastic grass

Come together as one unto the lights
The concept of the tablets now writ large
An electronic scoreboard – and if we’re good
We’ll see our snaggly grins all ten feet tall

Eighty-thousand dollars of education
Beaming civilization six nights each year
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com – it’s not really reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
 May 2018 Busbar Dancer
Traveler
Don't want to be no Palestinian
Don't want'a be no Yemenis'
What the **** is going on here
Jesus help someone please!
Traveler Tim
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