Pushing back occlusions,
opening the shame shed,
I said, If I could, I would, love my enemy...
Our... inspiring wedom myth or mystery
bring your least worthy self, knowing
prayers, never having heard me prayers,
save from dying folks on telly,
------------- times and time, and a half a time
memorial days to come,
during some poor soul's error,
finding I am as alive as ever was,
thinking we imagine life without us
is as if no life were, but we know better.
Ersatz Earth and Star maps from Griffith Park.
Life with no beat, buzzing, humming cicada rate
when do we assume the mind frame, cicada rate
cycles subterranean, staggered emersions, cosmic
clocks synchronized, some when, once, aha, we all,
us cicada, concentrations, thinking we don't have
cicadas where I live, so my ears are in a realm older,
if, in fact, fiction is not an art, fitting future hope
where now, hate and envy and incredulity hold hostage
truths we never speak of in church.
One way I have told the greatest story ever told,
the story bound within the covers on the book of life.
Lo', a bystander waves, signaling all clear. Tabula rosa.
Right on, some where, higher on the pain share meter,
O, Danny Shapiro, the pain, the pain, a toothache in 1873.
As the conditions were, but for a rural farm project 'lectric,
one light bulb, one refrigerator, one resistance coil burner.
A rather Spartan lifestyle, as reported,
in the Washington Star, the Moonies Newspaper,
sa sa lederlin sa, we lost our way in 1983, woke here, as
with python variables accessible by original Hypercard scripts.
Imitating Life, the entirety of living things, non-infinite things,
onces upon times,
not this one, then those days,
solitude, subtlest fortitude, iron cage, bricked in,
put away in penance in some hyper holy cult of killers.
Here he comes, to save the day!
That means that Mighty Mouse, is on the way!
Who financed Snidely Whiplash?
Who floated Wiley Coyote's single satisfaction source
of never ending creative means to fail, for a laugh,
Slap stuck without the embarassment you see in comics,
assment so wise it feels too cheap, freedominion wedoming.
Give me the children, for three hours each Saturday,
I'll give you certified boomer level consumers, trust me.
Three Musketeers was big enough for you and two chosen.
Who is it who gets it,
the girls, boo, old advertising boom repercussing, whamo!
No fee poetic licentiousness' eh? Free for the reader's attention
in the realm of musing minds joining when winds tighten
to force a flush from the wetlands to feed the fish,
who feed the people who feel better thin than fat.
This is a real effort to not demean the art involved in giving verse free forms.
It never works until some time is spent to read this far...