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 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
Plastic parts and string theories make some noise

Grind another grain mill and watch the wind swept fade

Small finds lead to future calamities

we shake in the shadow

Giants of excess spew pompous protest

We stole the bread for nutrition

but we find it hollow and guilt ridden

Scream for these corners forced
that state we don't really exist

A means to an end and another mansion breaks ground

Still

Broken home hero's die quick and without impact

White collars with the pill pop tendencies

Eat the fine cheeses and discuss the poor

Nod then chew without a clue about  whirlpool waste and desperation

trophy for the time bomb

He got drunk and killed a bystander

I would say innocent but who really is?

but his prison has a tennis court and the family has a scapegoat

Grease filled car ports expel wrappers and ignorance

Trip over the filth while they grin with yellow tooth

I need a vacation
I need inebriation
I need hesitation

Surely I would be drunk tank bound and fine slapped by fuzzy entitlement

leftover brain stew

I found it in the bottom of my ***

I'm not sure on its consistency

But I am sure it makes sense to me
Gray days make a mind vulnerable to the ridiculous
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
Sometimes I saturate my sunbeams with smoke

They stay stationary and unwavering in their illumination

Backfire for a saboteur and I see it all

losing it in the home front

Five nonsense fingers for a minds  grasping

I finally found my sanity
fell down behind the couch
An abyss for traversing
navigate those weaves woven

Dusted change and forgotten identification

I was a regular at the Lego factory

now I find my punch card crumbled and useless

I never did find the rest

what was I saying?

oh

so what if my blinds bend and my books take up all the seating ?

I prefer the floor with it's more humble views

the insects stay away
the weather is turning

I keep it clean but leave the windows propped for exposure

when does the clock die?

I bought these batteries out of haste

it's constant reminder ticks through  these silent moments

third shift hammock for the swing

Ninja turtle sheets and danger mouse masquerades

I'm no longer a child but sometimes I vacation with my nostalgia

it feels nice but leaves a hole every time

still bills must be paid

I worked with a cat lady at burger king

She claimed friendship with Ray Bradbury

She showed me a letter and I see it's true

She was the spitting image of Mary Kathleen O ****** in her more paranoid years

for all the Vonnegut fans out there I smile for you

Did you make it?
Did you break it?
Did you die alone?

"so it goes"

said the wizard with the satire solutions
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
Angry anarchy anticipates arcane action

Bruised banshees beckon bulbous bull blowers

Can calamity come calmer?

Climbing cold cobbles continues confusion

Disregard demented dinner doodles

Excited embryos excrete extravagant extraterrestrials

Forlorn figures fund future folly for fragile freedoms

Giants gather grinning grandma's grasping grand gargoyles

Hindsight hides huge hurdles helplessly

Introverted insight inspires ink infused instinct
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
Cold sweat oasis

Structures stretched with nuclear tendencies

Sometimes the creators get the better of themselves

Flash bang for dizzy blind spots

Specks for perception and they move with urgency

Close those eyes one more time for a remedy

Open for a new conclusion ever spent and contrived

Images for harvesting

we have plenty

Breath taken and things fall into place

Contrived and chemically complete

We can only surmise new horizons and much needed lucidity

Momentary in it's conclusion

We soon fell away faster than electro shock embraces

Complicate these realities with your hysterics and excess

Build up these walls with your sinister time clocks

bathtubs and cold water cures

drain the brain and plant new sanity

grates for forgetting

wash away these more unconventional moments

city dump bound with plastic tank accommodation

lay with the rest and die again

Cookie cutter cyborg with a familiar face

Long dead with only a dull ache for remembrance

recycle some faces
freeze the terminally ill

bring back centuries from now

Corporate confines with the wholesale slavery

rapid fire freak show
one penny for entry

watch the snakes linger for a taste

watch me go put on a new face

one more pleasing for your view

something hate proof and plastic
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
I am a hollow sender

build you up and take away your face

I am a make believe Salvation

reflect your insecurities for a change

I am the worst kind of hallucination

peripheral sabotage

your blinks always come too late

I came here for a break

but these walls cannot feel this space

inside these confines we find a brain

chaos crusted but contained

They say I inspire strange

words like a fun house fantasy

yet my message sounds like an echo

The master blaster says I should write in space

that's a task worth taking for a free

shoot me up and I will never come down

I've taken on excessive pacing for some peace

the papers say I'm free for a time

coffee and nicotine fuel this latest craze

sometimes I feel the ghosts complain

my past is one too remember

Long gone are the days of mind benders and fine line headaches

sun spiked and eager

spun cookies and the red blue persuasion

These words build another maze

so I sit here displaced

The time tables cannot refrain
from chemical surrender

watch the molecular rearrange
far gone is it's composure

Sometime I will feel the rain

but holes dug still hinder what could amaze

my last lighthouse disappeared with my organization

and what was left of my mind
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
I found a stow away deep in my skull

my chemical pathways interrupted

I feel unhinged but I see the reasoning

Infinite faces perpetuate uncountable frames

So many the ground chokes from the excess

The master heads came saying they need a reduction

Some souls wasted space so we ship them to their respective gods

Heads not in approval

Surely my God wanted it
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
Make amends
for these motionless
They never made a scene

Everything is currently crystal

Pin drop emptiness
muffled by ear buds
Nod and smile

I grow weary from a lack of generation

Resigned by default
dull glow for distracting
Drool for the letters

Knock on a door no longer

Slow the slip
night shrouds nothing
Street light clarity

Sometimes we see too much

Wine stained and ragged
he sat shoeless
Muted and glazed

A product of times constant tinkering

Humble like the cobble
we throw it aside
No thought for its origins

A victim of societies tenacious momentum

Build a new timeline
this one is known
This one is needed

fell between the cracks

no compromise for grasping

Radiant radio tower sky
please plug in for euphoria

static echoes
static responses

Wayward creatures full of frenzy

how they mingle so desperately

Dodge a bullet for excellence

Conclusion soaked suits
taken by a golden hand
Slop shop for clarity

Nothing makes sense anymore
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
Voices fight for space

I needed silence the most

I no longer recognize my face

I grow tired of seeing your ghost
 Mar 2017 A M Pashley
Moonsocket
Validation dispersed

Swallow that swindle

High hopes snap like sanity
Worn weary by despondency
A vacant mind for its echo

Soul struck youth casually snuffed

A contrived grace for their fall

Someday a silk spun silo will burst

Blame will be shameless

Disconnection will be blameless

New walls for construction

The horizon now seems consolidated

The fear now seems human

A fine tuned fiction will cost you more than a hasty truth

A chemical persuasion will only emphasize your confusion

A beautiful need for propulsion
A habitual need for revulsion

Magnify these misconceptions for the sake of my best

Demand the abstract have gumption
Steady flows and reason
Hysterically hollow and naked

I never thought you could hold these truths like so much armageddon

I never knew anyone who could find peace before pause

A sandbox sanctum for these lesser monsters

A concrete heaven for these suited saints

We mingle somewhere in between

Striving for a prize rooted in merely existing
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