across mountains of infamy pompey oozed his way down the port like chèvre, the screeching miles behind him. he wanted to be alexander the great, just like all men in his position. in 1999 everything was blue, and before that grey, and somewhere in between a few communists painted themselves green and now we have vesuvius. now we have the arctic ice sheets falling into the ocean, now we have machines that turn root vegetables to liquid.
alchemy was never one of pompey's strong suits, and for this caesar mocked him outside every bodega in lower manhattan. a fine servant of pythagoras was he, and his feminine ability of transmutation unparalleled among his contemporaries.
build tributaries for gravity. don't let this world, with its smug disapproval of tesla & ***** demand a full fledged eclipse of your hair, the arterial extension of your crown chakra. many avian predators will create ripples in your hyperspace continuum, remember the myth of gravity at times like this. vladimir lenin was able to come to terms with his reptilian heritage, right there in st. petersberg, right there in burma, right there in pontus, right there in zaire. why would a maple leaf constricting a tail light bring forth a civil war in archaic rome or egypt? as pompey
felt the velcro snap from his spine when the swords went in, he cried the same words that caesar would a few years later. he said "i gave your father my finest figs & cheeses & you betray a guest at your own psytrance party?" the nile flooded low that season, but across the sea in sicily the lasagna piled high.