sticky grease monkeys gathered around my magical wheels of strawberry puddles...stroking the pit of bones and mud i found the triangle lock that holds together fountains of the golden castles...into the gate i ride with gears made from electrodes and synapses ...breaking fast to avoid the ***** little princess and her rotten tiara...why do the princes gather in ******* blue and black...why do the mud men rain ***** on all the free horses...why do the horse gather under rainbows of supercharged mold...puffy ******* explode into orange fissure inside the dragons arch...under it i pass with the giant peaches of all the kings gone by...they told me to ride my bike into the realm of forever...they said go to where the girl is standing sad... in her mouth is lights of broken bulbs...reach into the glass pieces and find the rectangle and you should be ****** into the universes of white hawks and grabbing children...play with them before they melt into angry adults forgetful of infinite imagination...tell them to make hand puppets out of red cans...and grease the cylinders with organic stew not synthetic fibers and intestines of optical wires...tell them stop...tell them there are places inside where you can dream all day as long... as long as you light the night with organic candles of soft ******* of pulsing energy...and take with you all if they listen and let the others play in the cold winters ..let them bathe in dirt water...let them eat the ashes of rubber and iron...tell those who only want to play that they can sing all night but don't tell them what songs to sing...they will not know what to do and will just stay or go away...with the ones who listen... show them the path and give them names like happiness and joy...and make them take the path with you only until theirs is ready...once they go their way you can go to the shore of the love bear and shave his back and turn the fur into little bunnies with bubbling eyes of shining trust...if all goes like you wish the keep peddling and ride your bike into the hole in your brain...

I used to run-Never for fun--I would more often be running away from something than to it. I think it started in childhood. Never staying in one place long enough to have to fight every kid in the school.-I liked and i hated it. More often i had no control over it. On reflection it was for the better, my nose bleed too much for a kid my age. -In the second phase of my running career I began running out. Never telling the bosses to go play in heavy tracffic or do your **** self. I had morales and above all practised good manners. Instead i would tell the bosses that i was taking out the trash and make my freedom dash. -Oh, beleive me I flet free. The funny part was when the bosses would call my parents. Just as countless pricipals would do when i skipped classes. My parents would luagh and call them an ***. -Then i began running away. I only did it once...well that's a lie. I ran away from my highschool guidence office, far too drunk to face my parents scorn. "Yeah i drank it all. i replaced it with water, much healthier." -The last time I ran away I thought I was going to find myself. I had lost a part of myself to drugs and alcohol. I thought for sure i would find myself on the other side of the country on a small island on the Pacific Ocean. I went to rehab and could not find the person i went looking for. I thought briefly i had found myself, but when I looked in the mirror i could not even recognize my own face. I blamed my mustache. -I realized that running away to find myself i ran away from my family and my friends. Alas the old dies so the new can be born. -In my opinion if one is to run away it's for good. Never to return to such and such a place again, unless of course you have to do your taxes.