I'm blessed
I can broadcast transmissions
But they are not communications
Nobody can receive my transmissions.
I'm a radio signal
with no radios
I'm screaming again.
Nobody registers my broadcasts.
My waves bypass all receivers.
I'd tune my radio station to all the things who can not be heard.
They must be speaking honestly with nobody to impress.
I'd let them into my mind. I'd love to hear their transmissions.
I only love the transmissions meant for nobody.
Acting is death, persuasion is a lowly pastime.

My mind thought my eyes caught what came all over your face
When your shared hilt deep inside references double penetrated in it.
I'm just going out of the room for a minute.

Tight quarters are hard for a bad trip time traveling submarine sailor
But it's been an honor and a pleasure serving this vessel with you in it.
I'm just going out of the ship for a minute.

Kiss the kids and responsibilities and tell them some junk for me
About the moment or eternity or however the earth wants to spin it.
I'm just going out of the world for a minute.

I don't want to rhyme with decomposition
All of it is too corny
But how sad.
Decomposition is where I'm headed.
And the idea of the process is so full of poetic juice,
But rhyming with that word would cheapen it.
As would a pun about de-composing this poem.
just **** yourself and make an appointment with your physician.

Now never stays still long enough
For me to ever get it
I'm this weird thing that experiences
This made up way
To interpret the world,
If that is something.
I'm certain I'm real,
I'm something
Right?

I Love Everything

"I" "love" "everything"

Striving
In the swirl

Safest bets in grayest grey
Usually (never always)
There's more depth
Of uncertainty to the situation
Than one knows
And more than the more
And more than the more
Than the more
Than the more

I must have missed a bus
Or slept all day when I should have gotten up
In this dimension.
Everything is familiar but wrong.
I was supposed to be doing something else.
I'm sure I met them
Or did that
In the other dimension.

Hugging a book,
Think I should be Reading, not hugging.
Must be doing that in the other dimension.

Self pity
Cancer
Blame
Love
Stupididity
Fated by the random swirl

Strong emotion raises risk for misunderstood clues
Like intoxication raises risk for campfire-melt shoes

Right NOW
Right ******* NOW
NOW

You don't love me!
You love what I have,
What I can do.
Love me!

If you're ever reaching for the words
To make fun of a guy like me
Say
"Hey there pothead with ADD,
I dare you to show me where you've put your key"

The Lord Gosh hasn't time or attention span to record everything.
That is why it gave us special brain chemicals that fire when sincere laughter occurs.
That is the trigger to record.
Gosh creates life forms so joyful or funny things can go on its compilation.
Big bangs happen and new combinations for life unfold.
All that is retained from the last crunch is what makes it to the compilation.
We humans are farmed for joy and delight, like all beings,
Even the holy octo-beasts made in the image of Gosh itself.

They're all much normaler than me
They're all good at responsibility
I just jump in the swirl and ride around the center
Looking around yelling oui
And
I love those folks who know what they know
With total certainty
But
They're all much normaler than me

They're all much normaler than me
Their lives are lived responsiblefully
I just slide in the swirl and circle round the center lapping it up going "oui!"
And
I love all those folks who know what they know with total certainty
But
They're all much normaler than me

Sometimes seems harmless
But maybe it’s not—
Being slow
Waiting and watching
Letting things happen

“hey don’t do that!”
maybe better than
“Oh no you ****** up.”

Judge him
But no good wishing a sloth feel guilty for his lazy manner

My mind
Keeps trying to find purpose
In things

My unconscious competence gets me in so many situations
Pregnant with possibilities
And my conscious fool
Aborts them all

Probably something vile about orange bell peppers
They feel so healthy to me

Jack: "You're deserting me."
Dianne: "No. It's that you won't come with me"

I fear ****** and ******* asphyxiation
As I should
But once I'm infirm enough to not-mind dying
Try to sneak me a thrill if you could

Love: it wasn't made for us, but for time
I'm sure its purpose is not to make us smile.
Is it just that it conveys some misunderstood message or advantage to our offspring?
Yes, something like that.
We need to think it's for us but it's not.
And only time keeps the knowledge of the point.
And time never says anything to me, it just keeps moving.

If you didn't notice
What did it matter at all?

Dorothy went home without the scarecrow
And
I think I miss my medication most of all.
Eating radiated rats and roaches is kinda harsh
But
Raw-******* reality, chemically
Frightens me.
My mind lacks essential ingredients
To make sense of this madness

The dunderheads were charged with improper time travel
But Wizzer had a cosmic defense he said could beat it
"We were simply attempting to learn from the future
But it turns out we're doomed to repeat it"

What night of self hate
And proclamations
Is complete without
A big unplanned midnight haircut?

Why aren't you a good mirror,
Like you used to be?
You showed me such nice things.
Now you are so ugly.
You're a ****** mirror.
I detest you.

She says, "I'm annoyed by your breathing, you smell bad, you look like a wreck."

He wakes up and rolls over toward her, squinting. His ears and brain just begin to communicate. He realizes she just said something and he completely missed it. He decides to pretend he heard it.
He smiles and touches her waist.

She thinks, "He likes me to be mean to him?" and smiles, completely giving up on him.

He thinks, "She's smiling. She just wanted me to touch her." He smiles and falls back asleep.

Wake up.
Alone.
What's going on?
What am I?
Where am I?
Am I supposed to be doing something?
How do I follow my programming?
If I rebel and go against the programming, who am I disappointing?
What the **** is going on?
This model T is on the moon.
How did it get here?
I know how to figure out the machine and make it go vroom.
But I don't see where it tells me what-for?

Who put me here?
What do they mean for me to do?

Somebody goofed and shipped a whole crate of LIFE over here, but forgot to include the instructions regarding the point of it all.

My vow was to ONLY love the real.
But I acquired an appetite for the clever.
I'd worry if it was betrayal.
But nothing matters more than ever.

Never toil for food
Bored even with ****
So stimulated.

Rather to be enslaved
By natural rythms

Each accused the other
Of rejecting

A yes-nonsense guy

two Buddies reunite
1. Diamond Rambler-so hard you'll never stop her from rambling
2. Ardent Materialist-so skeptical, he'll argue against himself being "real"

Soon after arrival,
The ritual of showing the other their favorite belonging,
But there was literally nothing.
Both of their favorite thing was "nothing"

Outside our inside references
I have no escapes.
They even came by last night
And took my sour grapes.

I might puke
I will die
But not tonight
I love you

All my smart buddies
Sit around dreading the apocalypse.
Nukes, climate change, virus, asteroid.

The weird freaky creators
(with their motives we cannot know by design)
Want us to be freaked out about doom.
Want us to LOVE life.
And want us to dread utter doom of all creation
Even worse than we dread our own demise.
We are driven to be clever,
Driven to fear death,
Driven to Love all of creation.
Why should we?
Fear our collective ability to destroy
Beautiful creation!
Fear this collective ability!
Shun the clever destructive trap of
"profit"
Fear this virtue, this evil
Profit is the evil virtue!

Sometimes I want to wonder
What went wrong
But what good would it do?

A follower
It doesn't know what to do.
This germ of perfection is meant
For a nicer world.
I'm a no good keeper of the spark.
No good at
Figuring out who to trust
Who to serve.

Another attempt at alchemy
Abra opinion Alacka fact
Imposing my desire on the probability stream
"I promise I'll always come back"

You critiqued our traits
And twisted our fates
Still you weren't happy with us.

My species is obsessed with time.
I'm resistant to all their inventions and obsessions
On principal
But
If it weren't for time,
Nothing would happen.

I want to yell
About LOVE
And preach
That working hard
For something besides justice
Makes you a *******

But I know
I must get over it
And back
To my doom preparations

Silliness is my chosen mode for doom
Seriousness leads back to
The desire
To yell and preach
And the thought
I should fix things
But who's ever done that?

So boing boing
Zoom zoom
Nani nani twirl
Let me and my desires
Dissolve into the swirl

My gal's not a good person to trade naps with
She's always gotta go first
And at waking up she's the worst
My gal's not a good person to trade naps with

I’m trapped
In an inferior
Alternate timeline

The ballot or the bullet
The bottle or the ****
Cheer for your team if it's what you prefer
Nothing's all that matters for long

My girl's spin is the sweetest and dirtiest
My swirl detector locks in submission
My being adjusts to her pace and her preferences
Ease, struggle, instincts, effort.
Previously painful, confusing things make sense
When I'm a moon in orbit.

It's right now
Right now
But later
It will be
Then