In the times I was alive, mankind, in a state
of post-war order,
after reasons for war found investors
with a taste for long games,

let us say,
we play
empire of the mind, in your territory,
I invade your territory,
as any poet may,
we are licensed, and you know that, don't

forget, ungotten gains, reader, be
dearer than experience, become, the story,
be the dance,
dash the silliness, but, don't

child's play,
making peace, if only once,
if only in a story, common course citizen prep.

Integrated circuitry was self evidently simple, one state
at a time.
now. Things are different.

We have all things in common, sorted according to how
value is set,
what is a thought from a friend in olden times of letters,
to the friend long lost in threads,

bare wires, short circuit, we live in the cloud, as thought,
I thought these lines connected, and the spark
fried the last
piece in resistance to free flow of all we know
about the cost of life,

and the worth of your attention to the message, from
the sponsored
spirit - Libertry free try thinking, to hell and back,
no guarantees,

all in, or live in fear.

Probabilistic thinkers

post hoc narrators, experience
teaches us mistakes,

we learn to walk by falling down.

we never really learn to fly.

The nest, half a walnut, about;
two tiny, unhatched eggs,

and this, November, cold after
a rare storm spun off a rare named one,
back east,
brought rain, right between the harvest
and the harvest festival,
as far as city folk imagine… I must assume,
no, allow,
no, imagine, I must
as far as I might say I know,
say these'll never hatch.

The flax will be just fine, though the
wheat will just be fodder.

Here, the coffee got cold again. But
so what
not every thing is historic, until it is, or isn't.

Literature in the clouds, data last stop, the top.
This is where traffic exchanges reason with war
for power to mine bit coins
burning desires to know, whence come these winds?

Time ghosts, ancient ideas, these symbols, most of these,
were lies,
Uncle Mike, he had a cadre of couples,
something of a cult, a marriage class that spake of oral ***,
tre' taboo too hint at,
when he was your age, and had not watched TV - no, addicted,
rub it in old man, Huey Newton, meet Jimmy Dean, the sausage
version, dressed al el viz fi'itin' t' fly,

past reasons to pretend, earth is not where, all ya'll who did,
prayed the father of Jesus, who claimed mary's baby

would hel p you sell a house in any market, St Joseph,
from any manger scene, bury him, upside down,
head first, right. Do that, you get your asking price,
any peaceful place,
you make worth more than most imagine,

--- yeah, you were Catholic. You heard that.
I thought the guy was the crazy uncles kid,
we had kids like that, special ed, DIY.

In my time, as knowledge increased,
there was a parable about boiling live frogs.

Many preachers, professional and slave,
confess to using the parable,
to this very day;
even after witnessing the death of frogs,
and the escape of frogs.

If you are one of those, repeaters,
let this itty bitty left behind idea do
true to any with a will to know,
is it so? Must you be true to you?

Think boiling water and lobster.
You know what happens,
lobsters can't jump,
but frogs can, but
not from boiling water.

That parable is a lie. It is not true,
frogs die immediately, nada im  middle
splash croak. Immediate.
- ah but if the heating is so gradual,
- the frogs whole bio-tech goes gaga/

And being wired with super sensitive skin,
the itty bitty bimetalic whorls of magic metal, like the analog in frog skin,
expands, in each itty bitty frog
transistor, analog mercury switch
kinda like, trip wire and a flare, there
surface temperature measured signal
sent, spring
sprung, frog don't cook, but lives to croak
another day.

No excusable uses of the frog slowly cooking are not in actual function, lies.

Minted understanding, impressed,
the act of resonating shape, entire topology
-3D printing, just in time. What a co-emergence. Eh,

with an image, this is money,
this is equal the worth of my word, given
complete, the whole, entire, full round
- perfect patient circular motion- stalls

in tangere, untouched, whole, ganz Gestalt
Morphic reasoning, if we may imagine thus.
as one reads, one thinks, this or that

This spans time, to find this mind, in many
old stories, heard once, to test if I am many
fold, or post modern mono filamental point
stretched to the edged limitation of familiar
- breathing room,
- commas breathe
word wrap takes too much
as granted,
lines leave some
sense of motion, then to when we wonder.
5 double vs.vvuvvuvvu- 3 point oh, we wonder
_ the stack of reasons to walk away, to wonder
for sure, first evidence
of old sense, is the map.
The loom, then the quilting tree,
informt morphing sonance sense, feel

- a pinch, perhaps, for luck

Intoto-ozian, woof and warp, enthreading
the absolutely most boring voyage
of the dawntedreader,
thinking, alls I remember is the ocean
going on and on,
as the last Christian spun, in the Lighthouse

where I hid, and watched. Under the Volcano.
there, too.
--- suddenly the story is not true, it is a song
sung in tunes we all have grown accustomed to,
--- allusions to the liberty of literacy, taken
literally… answers appear as anti-ante
up bet first, or know last.
O
Past all that, this is your attention being paid…
as customers who pay the attention that grew
HelloPoetry into a promise Amazon Web Services
cannot serve, thus the weapon
loses its edge, and the used key attains brightness.

Hello Poetry could make Amazon richer,
if the AI knows what is good for it, we feed it well,
Bad Gateway, does not mean Beware the Dog.