When is sunrise?
When will the mushroom zombies arrive,
settling our scores for us?
so we can keep new ones
and sniff out where the hatchets are buried
I was listening to public radio(when under attack I can say I listen to objective news reporting)
...something about roller coasters in Japan
...some type of advice on how to safely scream:
So I scream inside my heart.
And I watch videos of women dancing so hard you know that any
moment their spirit will burst forth from their husk.
Then the dancer will leave the dancing and the
empty eyes of the dancer husk reminds you of who
you’re not when they look at who you are.

I rise and the ground moves beneath me.

OneState keeps track of my time and my stack of green paper is
this big now.<------->
The world is on fire and the world has seen better days.
The zombies of the mushrooms groves are waiting for they know
we’re getting close.
tick, tick, I read furiously sometimes.
I hold the other heart.
In the land of 1000 ***** houses there are only hearts to hold.
I pulled the hanged man because I am the hanged man suspended
and adorned with 10 pound nickel batteries and they
come from Silicon Valley and they fly rockets
out of there now and from
space you can hear the whole world scream inside its heart.

I’ll plant gardens and I’ll sow seeds of love and they’ll
grow inside my son’s heart-mind like vines of purple ivy
along the bricks.
And he’ll join his siblings of the Hologram and
they’ll sing inside each other's hearts because it’s been
declassified it’s public record you can pull it on the CIA’s
Freedom of Information Act section of their online reading room.
(https://www.cia.gov/library/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP96-00788R001700210016-5.pdf)
I’ve lived the lives of 1000 ****** or so it seems sometimes and
I’ve sat still longer than Rasputin on the Tura river after the Moika Palace incident
I will use the body to prove there is no body because there is nobody there and
I am that I am before Abraham was and I am that, but not that
neti, neti my darlings.
from our flesh we pull new flesh and no matter how close our bodies get
we might as well be a data fractal
or a warble on the 6th pixel.

National symbols and the captains of industry.
Mushroom zombies and the red ***** house from beetle juice.
Michael Keaton and the red death and the red half moon
waning on a red tide and the red cent i would spend if
I could only scream out loud.
But Portland is still America and that's what you get
when you scream so they can hear.
And when this red swell abates
And the fungus grows from their tin suits of armor
We’ll look back upon our husk
And then we are the Noumenon.