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Jun 12 · 260
Mar 31 · 280
Jan 14 · 58
Jan 14 · 203
Snowflakes 'round me:
Bird wings beat hushedly;
Spoken words ripple silently
Play all these at the same time. To do that just open each one in a new tab, maybe with some headphones on and watch the video called "Eye of The Universe" in full screen for at least a minute while the solfeggio frequencies play.
Inhaling less than swallowing, the smoke
Is churning in guts turned over frail lungs.
There is a taste of parties that evoke
Loitering and after *** chill sessions.
It's all just floating in the space between
Pulsing diaphragms and small intestines.
Hitting tobacco from the **** to ween
One from cigarettes is like invest'n
In a slower death. One accidental
Flex of the throat and feel the backward blows
Of a thousand dead leaves instrumental
In slacking muscles blocking acid flows.
      Some tums might help, throwing up, or quitting.
      Nah! I'll **** lemons and keep on spitting.
Jan 12 · 165
Beer With Me
I trust books
and the people that serve my beer.
Jan 12 · 283
The bar.
New personas,
Rare from near to afar.
Tangling in the smoldering lights,
With haste.
Jan 8 · 308
All That
It's going to start the playlist with the second video saying the first is unavailable. The first is available so go ahead and just start it from "The Power of Smile by Tupac Shakur".
Jan 8 · 147
Madness for Two
Their gears twist and turn, cranking tirelessly
Round the mortal coils of a mellower
Art and content of games played wirelessly.
The game boards are awash with bellowers,
Slighted pawns too bound by echo tubing
Passed around to fortunetellers frightened
By town criers trying to throw heartstrings
Of lovers obsessed with burdens lightened.
"She is trapped and he the trapper," they say.
Shall he free her and see her twist and break?
Maybe that is her choice," but not today,
Or tomorrow or the next," he risks fate.
      Their goal is obvious: parting those two.
      Too bad their love is a folie à deux.
Folie à Deux means madness for two. it's a case in which two people share the same delusion. Like lover's having the same fantasy.
Jan 7 · 157
Gonads and Strife
There once was a girl who played the fife,
Looking at her filled my ****** with strife.
She played me a tune,
And I swelled like a balloon,
Now that girl is my wife.
The power of a gun can ****
And the power of fire can burn
The power of wind can chill
And the power of the mind can learn
The power of anger can rage inside
Until it tears you apart
But the power of a smile,
Especially yours, can heal a frozen Heart
Jan 3 · 137
Miniver C
Dec 2019 · 232
I'd Love to Hear You Sing
Dec 2019 · 146
“[At the moment, the human world is a corrupt force.] Greed has poisoned [human lives], has barricaded the world with hate, and has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and [understand] too little.

However [some] continue, indefatigably, to reach out. There’s just no way [a few of us] can single-handedly save the world or, perhaps, even make a perceptible difference – but how ashamed [those few] would be to let a day pass without making one more effort.

[Like water, we can be] the highest good. Water gives life to the ten thousand things, and [does not fear its courses]. It flows in places humans reject and so [creates unity]. [It is an element that] can take any form. [Water] can drift without effort one moment, then pound down in a torrent the very next [moment, as a single force]. [And yes, It is true that the efforts of those few] amount to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?

[Now just] Imagine a world in which every single person on the planet has free access to the sum of all human [unity]. In dwelling, [we could] be close to the land. In meditation, [we could] go deep in the heart. In dealing with others, [we could] be gentle and kind. In speech, [we could] be true. In ruling, [we could] be just. In business, [we could] be competent. In action, [we would be sure to] watch the timing and the season. We may even have no reason to fight each other, and thus no reason to blame each other.

In [our] hands, my fellow [droplets], will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since [civilization began], each of our generations has been summoned to give testimony to [the greatness of life.] We’ve all wanted to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness – not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful.

Now the trumpet summons us again—not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are—but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, “rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation”—a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.

In the process of [this struggle], we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct [this struggle] on the high plains of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our [honest efforts] to degenerate into [criminal high jinks]. We must rise to the majestic heights of meeting [corrupt] force with [pure] force, [or suffer the failure of our efforts under an inequitable and desperate silence.]”
SOURCES, in order:
Charlie Chaplin, The Great Dictator’s Speech
Isaac Asimov
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 8 (from Giu Fu Feng’s sparkling translation)
Spike Lee, Cowboy Beebop
David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 8 (from Giu Fu Feng’s sparkling translation)
Jimmy Wales, Founder of Wikipedia
JFK, Inaugural Address
Charlie Chaplin, The Great Dictator’s Speech
JFK, Inaugural address
Martin Luther King, Jr’s I Have a Dream Speech
Dec 2019 · 361
Persecution Complex
Righteous anger is intoxicating;
Brain cells sold to the fiction of the mind.
It funds peddlers too loudly debating:
Oh, what to do with words spent on designs
Of machines combating contradictions?
Their motherboards are hardwired for the ****.
Any thoughts or beliefs on opinions?
Just wait for their hunger to get its fill.
Nothing like teeth flushed with red and venom.
***, death, and chocolate cannot compare
To the moral high ground's cheap decorum
Of beliefs held in contempt and despair.
      Because paying attention to the wit
      Of my getting hard done by is the ****.
Dec 2019 · 113
What? I Listen Too
Dec 2019 · 483
Full Up
she played me one of her songs
on a Steinway grand piano.
I thought it sounded like change falling into a Styrofoam cup
held in the hand of a hobo
sitting by a coffee stand.
Dec 2019 · 55
Growing Up
Dec 2019 · 114
Dec 2019 · 227
Birth and Death
Dec 2019 · 130
Bury My heart
Dec 2019 · 422
on my fridge
is a sheet
of yellow notebook paper
worn at the edge
from intent,
trigger happy,

"is your warrant signed by a judge?"
those words are lighthearted

to a few, who
escape the thumbs
of law boys.

so clear,
their flesh.
no ink

blots on records
kept clean
by the sweatless brow
of towers so high
that clouds
veil gargoyles gazing imperiously
at each passerby.

"is your warrant signed by a judge?"
to the few who've become many
Those words are heavy,
too heavy

Borne ink

blots falling from plumes
of justices too weak
to hold a bar

examinations recorded in each drip
down the corrugations
of a city center obelisk

worn at the edges
by the sculptor's blade
and the broken shields of
pawing prisoners
put away like leftover

Schools of sardines
swimming circles above the stone
pinwheel of old codes
kept real by the rise

and fall of handsome abusers
Hard done by.

"Is your warrant signed by a judge?"
Dec 2019 · 202
We'll be a Family
Dec 2019 · 98
i stream the latest
on an old tube tv
vhs and cassettes
to better hear everyone's latest regrets
on the clicking of magnetic strips

"i've seen this one"
breath in an empty room
pause, rewind, pause, play
it's on loop
every word any of them say

the short words
click the most
as flighty as birds
but trend the highest
on the billboard

the long words
from the grace
of a short attention span.
Dec 2019 · 510
In my father’s bar, there are two chairs.  
In one is a man named Logus,
Who came from The Desert of Nine Valleys;
In the other is a song-less musician named Sparrow.

Day after day
Alone in the bar
The man with the foolish grin
Is keeping perfectly still.
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a fool.

He wandered very far,
Very far,
Over land and sea.
A little shy,
And sad of eye,
But very wise was he.
And then one day,
One magic day he looked Logus' way.
And while they spoke of many things,
Fools and kings,
This he said to him:

Good morrow to thee, brother prisoner.
Do you realize that you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize we're floating in space,
Do you realize that happiness makes you cry
Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die?

These are
All lies and jests.

Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
Drop your guard, you don't have to be smart all of the time.
I've got a mind full of blanks, I need to go somewhere new fast.
And don't be shy, oh no,
At least deliberately.

What was I saying?
Oh yeah.
Let me tell you a story that's sad but true,
About someone who just may remind you of you.
Let me tell you a tale that may help you awake a woozy head-
"I'll buy you a drink!"
-It begins long ago on a happy day,
With a fool who was loved, but threw it all away,
Who exchanged a good home for a flophouse, a bar and a plank-

While we're on the subject,
Could we change the subject now?

My name is Logus,
I'm carrying the wheel.
Thanks for all you've shown us,
But this is how we feel.
Come sit next to me.
Pour yourself some tea.
Just like Grandma made,
When we couldn't find sleep.
Things were better then,
Once but never again.
We've all left the den
Let me tell you about it:

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told.
I have squandered my resistance.
for an existence,
In which
Ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for
And why it is here,
It will instantly disappear
And be replaced by something even more bizarre
And inexplicable.

You know, there is another theory which states
That this has already happened.
And you lived that,
In exchange for a pocket full of mumbles,
Such are promises.

And? I am still alive.

Geez, you know
Somebody once asked, "could I spare some change for gas?"
I need to get myself away from this place."
I said, "yep what a concept,
I could use a little fuel myself,
And we could all use a little change."
Too bad
A fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam.
It was worth it just to learn some sleight of hand.
Bad news comes, don't you worry even when it lands,
Good news will work its way to all them plans.

But the building's not going as we planned.
The foreman has injured his hand.
The dozer will not clear a path.
The driver swears he learned his math.

You talk in maths.
You buzz like a fridge.
You're like a detuned radio.

You'll never be what is in your heart.
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
You have a heart that's full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
And bruises that won't heal.
You look so tired, unhappy.
Such pretty houses,
And such pretty gardens:
Green plastic water-cans
For fake Chinese rubber plants
In the fake plastic earth.

There's an empty space inside our hearts
Where the weeds take root.
And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free.

Logus, narrating:
We both left right on time,
The Sparrow accosted my mind.
The Sparrow said,
"Hey man, we go all the way"
Of course, we were willing to pay.
Back to the street,
Down to our feet.
Losing the feeling of feeling unique,
Do you know what I mean?

Well on the way,
Head in a cloud,
The bird of a thousand voices
Talking perfectly loud.
But I never heard him
Or the sound he appeared to make.
And he never seemed to notice.
But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.
Of course, everyone goes crazy
Over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar
We just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain
At least, I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water
But we just built that, good *******.

For we have found both freedom and safety in our madness;
The freedom of loneliness
And the safety from being understood,
for those who understand us
Enslave something in us.

But let me not be too proud of my safety.
Even a Thief in a jail is safe from another thief.

Logus to Sparrow:
I keep myself in
To pull myself out.
I'm rising up,
Wish I was sinking down.
And it's not like
There was warning
We were happy.
And it's not like
There was mourning
In the warning.

I guess I am a scout.
So I should find a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.

I know I am a scout.
I should've found a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.

Driver Sparrow:
Well, that is that and this is this.
Will you tell me what you saw and I'll tell you what you missed
when the ocean met the sky. (You missed, you missed)
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste the afterlife?

Drift all you like,
From ocean to ocean,
Search the whole world.

And you find your destination
With so many different places to call home.
'Cause when you find yourself a villain,
In the story you have written
It's plain to see
That sometimes the best intentions
Are in need of redemption.
Would you agree?
If so, please show me.

These thoughts and the strain you're under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again

Turn me on to phantoms,
I follow to the edge of the earth.
And fall off.
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance,
And this is my chance.

My shadow's shedding skin
I've been picking scabs again
I'm down, digging through
My old muscles, looking for a clue

I've been crawling on my belly
Clearing out what could've been
I've been wallowing in my own confused
And insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over
Or a word to guide me in
I wanna feel the changes coming down
I wanna know what I've been hiding

Logus narrating:
My eyes are the size of the moon,
I could 'cause I can so I do.
I'm feeling so good,
Just the way that I do
When it's nine in the afternoon.

Logus's inner voice:
So you think you're a Romeo?
Playing a part in a picture-show?
Cause you're the joke of the neighborhood!
Why should you care if you're feeling good?
Take the long way home!
Take the long way home.

[A trilling ends his conversation,
And it's his wife, Para
Calling, concerned]
Hello? Hello? Hello?

Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me
Is there anyone at home?
Come on now
I hear you're feeling down
Well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again
I'll need some information first
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts?
Please don't
**** yourself for recognition.
**** yourself to never ever stop.
oh no!
You broke another mirror!
You're turning into something you are not.

Come home!
I'll bake you a cake
Made of all their eyes.
Do you see me
Dressed for the ****?

Logus, thinking to himself:
I know she's looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead.

Her eyes are the size of the moon,
she could 'cause she can so she does.
We're feeling so good
Just the way that we do
When it's nine in the afternoon.

But you'll still
**** yourself for recognition,
**** yourself to never ever stop.
You broke another mirror,
You're turning into something you are not.

And that's okay

I got a box full of all your pity.
We're fresh out of tissues
Because on them I wrote a comedy,
I wrote a comedy.

Sorry, but
I'll take a quiet life,
A handshake of carbon monoxide.

With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
Silent, silent.

Tell me what to do!
Now the tank is dry.
Now, this wheel is flat.
And you know what else?
Guess what I received
In the mail today?
Words of deep concern
From my little brother:

Logus, thinking of the letter:
Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head,
you'll never settle any of your scores.

I backed my car into a cop car the other day.
Well, he just drove off - sometimes life's okay.
I ran my mouth off a bit too much, ah what did I say?

Well, you'll just laugh it off and it'll be okay.
it'll be okay.
Everybody needs a place to call their home.
Everybody needs someone to call their own.
Even when you're lonely, know you're not alone,
You're one of us.

[Logus's attention turns back to para.]

Please hold on hope, don't choke
On the noose around your neck
And find strength in pain
And change your ways
Know your name as it's called again.

For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself.

And if you could be what you wanted,
If you could be who you wanted
All the time,
All the time.

And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free.
These quotes are taken from various songs and poems.
Mar 2016 · 701
"what the shit"
i look up from my porcelain throne

in the fifth point cafe 42 minutes before the am’s fifth point

crown all whimsy-eyed and thrown

and see "the end is near"

so i think to myself
“me oh my oh golly geez
will i do in sight of these”

the ends

of the tp roll, that is

i look up from my pew
and there’s too much **** on the ceiling for one sheet  

i stammer

then i realize, that’s not a ceiling,  
that’s the sky

and that isn’t ****,
those are scars
scatting stars

i stammer, “****-it”

what am i worried about, one last sheet

those chronos blast-holes
they’ll wipe themselves out

heat death infinity splitters and all that such sigh-fanciful nonsense

and so cheers, to life
the ends
to that which must overcome itself

to the earth, "good night-boons"
to the sky, "good night, moon"

i blink once more and
“sea-ya, night-time crouch-joys“
the end is near? yes, aaand. . .
frogman: wax tailor

YOU'all are just like other people
We love to sting
sHe loves to trance
he admires b-e-a-utiful twoomen
Us're whoman
And most-times, twoo whomans

:Now I know my ABC'S
watch me confuse'em like the bourgeoisie:
-"but he pronounced it like Bilgemonkzees"-

( . . 3 . Oh dear, I hope you don't forget to feed me . .
  2 . "I am still learning,"
and I've Dear'd to Remember to Forget my Confusions . .


{B-E-A-Grateful no-s1: "Read DeadHeads to BEGIN,
                                     or Blue Tails to END"

-flips coin- }


1 . .

RECORD: curiosity's and imagination's
FROGMAN: selfse

I think "We've thunk it once before,
but it Bears repeating,
LISTEN to us, all of you.


-caches Bit-

HA!    VV    !AH
        S A Y

-Opens Mind-

"MY FROG... we're full of chars-"
- [May{jor(+/-)To}m] = E.ven-One
-- 1999-2001, a Race Ode-vent-you-See


for those who may be hamyoung-us for the first time


And Whu-may-n't be pondering what isn't going to clappin now.


It is of Coarse : Smoothing for the Mind, Body, and The Selfse of us all.



|Whyever needs Bee? Wills Bee.|

Oh, you're di-vidend?

Oi've got these Two Mackszillery Tired Molaz, Whight.
whand day I was cwussin'a peace'a fwaery'dandy
and tay cwacked, whont down ta cagey'mentals.
now ta twooe woots is eckzpozed.
and i sding'em evewy dway

. . .-inserts troothpic-

jrus'tho da gwhothet OH's it's thrill'a jlive one up'teir
-- prole

/and the ghost speaks:

The Letter-Ing: there are answers but can a whoa-man be logical
forty-yesican last end or new beginning
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a never-ending joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
Mar 2016 · 346
The Letter-Ing: follows the
FROGMAN: washington AIRPLANE (fly you fools)

Muorftantipheus, Frogmen: wield it like a CHORD,
                                                  and raise your hands
                                                  in triumphant ACCORD!

Tackman: You're note
                 going to find the name
                 on that wrote,
                 It's small enough to be a stagger.

Ingktrofsplector: Yes, well
                                  some words
                                  have yet to do their deed

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The VORPAL VOICE went snicker-snack!
He left HYMN dead, and with HIS Read Head
He went frall-um-sting back.
-- Lewis C. Karroll





that's what i'll frame you!

The Letter-Ing: follows the
forty-first or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change

Johnny Five's and Suzy's: it's the season
                                              to make good use of mutantility.
                                              and there’s a troick to it.
                                              frseeing stings differently, that is.


is to let the mind know that it is
you who will be doing the pondering.
-- Thrusher Swainson, Bear Self = Mind hewed Body

Muorftantipheus, Frogmen: this is your last chance.
                                   after this, there is no swimming tack.
                                   you make the blue tail concrete-
                                   the adventure's ends are chaste up in your head
                                          and you relive
                                                  whatever you want
                                                                ­  to relieve.

                                    you make the read deadhead abstract-
                                    weplay in ninetbeen and i show you
                                                how slow
                                                        the rabbid-
                                                         ­          wHole
                                                                ­      flows.

The Letter-Ing: in a garden of voids
fortieth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change

"six by nine.
that's it. that's all there is.
i always thought some moment was fthandtaymentally stung by the ninetbeen."
-- Arthur Dent, Introflector

"It's the saddest [t-O(r)-O{Ule}L] IN the bROOK."
-- The King, as approved by The Qculoween

The Letter-Ing: burns trails
thirty-ninth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change

Johnny Five's and Suzy Two's: Especially Brads and Janets.
                                                  From brad three and janet one
                                                  to johnny five and suzy two.
                                                  one pontification begets the next,
                                                  only to fall in sum-E unpredictable-way.
                                                  we mean,

everyone I know feels left down by their other and fallther.
even my other and fallther fell,
left down by their other and fallther.
-- Chuck, Frogman

"[R]ule forty-two.
All johnny five's and suzy two's wild stings
more than a milee high-way
mayn’t lever the short.”
-- The King, as approved by The Qculoween

Johnny Fives's and Suzy Two's: Oh, [R]ULES [R]ULERS [R]ULE!
                                                             Always [R]uling to TOE the LINE!
                                                                ­   [R]I
                                                                ­         [R]O
                                                                ­                [R]UM,
                                                    4 {KNOCKS ON MY} 2 {EAR DRUMS}!!...
                                                    i hear my hearts beat of tidelord fun.

The Letter-Ing: tiedlord fun
thirty-eighth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change

Johnny Five's and Suzy Two's: And yet,
                                                       it doesn't flatter.

everything is a plucky
of a plucky
of a plucky.
-- Especially This

The Letter-Ing: it doesn't matter
thirty-seventh or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
Mar 2016 · 522
The Letter-Ing: it's okay

"You Thrill my Mind"
-- SELF, Frogman

but it was all wrighte,
everything was all wrighte,
the truggle was finished.
she had won the big-tore-he over his-selfse.
sHe loved all-Free-Ways.
-- George Orwell, Frogman

The Letter-Ing: it's okay
thirty-sixth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change

O'Brien: number five!
                tell me! 9 by 6,
                what is it

Johnny Five: . . . 42.

O'Brien: That is incorrect.

Johnny Five: No.

O'Brien: No, it is not incorrect?

Johnny Five: Yes.

O'Brien: Yes, it is, or yes, it is not?

Johnny Five: Yes, not.

eyeGore: What? Talk about a malfunction.

The Letter-Ing: way back to the present
thirty-fifth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
Mar 2016 · 359
i sat one day, on a stone
and saw off the horizon
of my minds myelin-vision
the veil, a most zenith scrysm

i sat and lay, one thrown entry
of each good-for-bad trancing sewn
threw that shush-ruggish veil's-under lining

condensed the fraey, of dust-canes done
my tearings shred the fabrics
and now all is but sound, a feeling

i'm lost, to the breeze in my bones
all that is thrown, found in my wind
i shudder, veiling hearts-kind

my mind is a'shade'in

Johnny Five: No.

Stephanie Speck: No, you're not an alive?

Johnny Five: Yes.

Stephanie Speck: Yes, you are, or yes, you're not?

Johnny Five: Yes.

Stephanie Speck: Yes, WHAT?

Johnny Five: Yes, not.

Stephanie Speck: What? Talk about a conned-fusion.


The Letter-Ing: way back to the present
thirty-fourth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change

Magenta: How fraking mental.

Riff Raff: And also ANGEROUS of you.
               You see, when I said that 'we' were to return to Ninetbeen,
               I referred only to Magenta and myself.

               I'm sorry, however, if you found The Word misleading,
               but you see, you are to remain here,
               in Thought, anyway.

Dr. Everett Scott: Great heavens! That's a Colt .42!

Riff Raff: Yes, Dr. Scott.
               A Colt .42 capable of relaying a Time Spiral of Pure Confusions.

Johnny Five: You mean, you're going to confturosel me?

Dr. Everett Scott: You saw what became of the TEMPORAL EDDY.
                             Brads and Janets must be prefected.

Riff Raff: Exactly, Dr. Scott.
               And now, Johnny Five,
               your mono-ch[R]oine has come.
               Say good-bye to all of this...
               and hello to PROL-TARI-DOM!

. . . ]

Stephanie Speck: But you can't be con-a-fused.
                               You're an alive.

The Letter-Ing:  a chronospire of pure confrustration
thirty-third or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
RECORD: UL-YngdriSSEl-geezS

Johnny's and Suzy's: hooking to chaste that margin without the
                                     question in mind:


If I wake up in a different thought,
at a different moment,
could I wake up as a different self?
-- You and Me and Everyone We See

The Letter-Ing: why? me'think's
thirty-second or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change

Johnny's and Suzy's: It caught me so that I may never

... rest from pwondarement;
I will drink life from the bees.
All tore-ments I have enjoy'd greatly,
have suffer'd greatly,
both with throwse that loved me,
and alone; on tear,
and when thro' thudding rents the cravy Haeades
Vent-teh-din-see. I am become a thought;
For all-ways growming with a hungry deadhead
Much have I heard and throwned—
poprieities of Brads and Janets
And spanners,
prime-hates, clowncils, reed-covernments,
Myself too.
threast, i am tonor'd of them all,--
And drunk delight of rattle with my tyears,
Far on the stinging pains of dramatic irony.
I am a partition of all that I have kept;
Yet all expeerientse is an ark
wherethro' gleams that unpondere'd mind whose margin craves
and 'fore ever
-- Ulysses, Frogman

The Letter-Ing: metaphor flavornoid
thirty-thirst or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
Feb 2016 · 398
sea you next time...
candles that can't decide to stay lit.
it's that tone of day,
pulsing dream-light.

shadows waver from source to source,
never-sure origins.
benign, malignant,
makes no difference.

just keep watching.

just keep walking

Read the directions,
even if you dare not follow them.

Do not read cr-e-a-utiful societal throughts.
They will only make you feel crippled.

You never know when they'll be data for good.

They're your best link to your past
and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that fiends come and go,
but with The Ones that are you,
you should hold on.

Work hard to re-bridge the grasps in body and mind,
because the older you get,
the more you get stung
by the fiends you knew when you were young.

Love in Chaos once,
but lever before it makes your Blue Tail Concrete.

Love in Calm once,
but lever 'fore it makes your Read DeadHead Abstract.


Accept certain un-ion-tame-able truths:

Hatred suns will rise.
Brads and Janets will philander.
You, too, will get told. And when you do,
you'll hypnotize that when you were young,
Hatred suns were reasonable,
Brads and Janets were noble
and Wild Stings respected their leaders.

disRespect your leaders.

Don't expect anyone else to re-inform you.
Maybe you have a true fiend.
Maybe you'll have a tHrealthy Fiend.
But you never know when either one might frump out.

Do mess too much with your mind
so by the time you're Flirty-2
it will look Kinedy-1.

Be careful whose data you buy,
but be patient with those who supply it.
Data is a form of command.
Dispensing it is a way of alifreyinWaISHing the truths from the past,
wiping them off,
painting over the ugly Lies
and RE-CYCLING them for what it's WORTH.

But trust me on the Introflection.
-- Mary Schmich, Frogman

The Letter-Ing: wish upon a memory
thirtieth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
1./4. would switching a present self

2./1. with a past self

3./5. cause a temporary feeling of intense familiarity
         with the p/re/as/sen/t-self's moment

4./2. dwindling

5./3. with each decision made under the guise of familiarity

"reload last save?"
[d(ej)a {vu}]
how different would that past-self's future outcomes be

is there a limit

Johnny's and Suzy's: Clearheaded,
                                   enough to re-member throwse

Two roads divergent in a desert, and I—
I took the one most pondered by,
And that has made no din-fearence.
-- Robert Frost, Frogman

It's a regret-fully re-membered-trance.
And yet it teaches one that there is

Dare, or dare not.
There is no try.
-- Yoda, Frogman

"Sticking fteathers up your rutt does not get you a kick'n!"
-- Tyler Durden, Greedy Scorpion

[ . . I hear.
I see.
I dare.
I learn . .

Johnny's: Now, Dare

The Letter-Ing: audio, video, audeo, disco
twenty-ninth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
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