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Ken Pepiton Aug 8
The grand canyon runs between
the part of Mohave County blessed
with coverage
after the fallout
from the fifties,
and the lower part, south of the river,
east of the bend, there at Topock swamp.

Cancers above the line made by the river,
were rewarded, cash in some cases,
class actions and such, after the bloom
in GI Bill Law School Degrees…

leukemia in babies,
Downwinders in Mojave County,
just ended, dead, of northern afflictions.

Things like that and Julia Roberts,
got the voters to agree,
Lawyers should advertise,
- leading to what we have today
free speech, facing a true Kuhnian shift,
Directly presented, plain
for all
to see,
What freedom of the press was
to the owners of all means of exploitation,
freedom of speech, after internet, aight, is to any.
Any who, even you.
should any ask what Marshall McLuhan
continues to do, through 'is link to all you know,
text in context, denoting informed consent, you
think, as you read, and so
doing you do the deed, done so. We read,
thinking back
only one long mortal lifetime ago, we mostly did not.
On the whole,
have you never imagined
how many more of us know,
what was against the law for beings of the baser sort,
to learn, long
a tradition among the power elites, owners,
of all the national resources,
in a global syndicate,
entities, interests, trusts 'n'such, which
follow the pattern of the jewel merchants,
control the sources.
Restrict library cards immediately,
Carnegie is laughing from his grave… his will
- he did appreciate his Kipling
written in Indian Ink, under the Raj, If inspires yet,
as does Gunga Deen.
Film. Yes. Won't last. that medium,
too much trouble to watch it again, when
one can read a play, or a novel, or a poem per
haps forever, if the terminii are all out of sight.
As a lad, I was allowed to watch all the television,
I wished, and I wished I had a thousand channels,
in 1955, when Wyatt Earp got his life and legend

into the worth cube at the core of mankind…
for all American boys, pun is there, naturally, all
of us American boys, no matter what our mommas were,
we, 1955, had been pledging five days a week, aliegiance,
we were sons of soldiers who had won the last war,
the one in all the inspirational Hays code cleared war movies.

Realist mind game art, in context, humbled,
by the giants tuned into, before the contest began, Truth
who dares, all comers. Common mental trope, all comers
come on, oppose my point and fall across my edge.

Little children, keep your selves from idols, such as
hold I role in all active avatars at any given point
in time, in tyranny over your bit in the mind of man,
taken to play mind games that are crafted for enjoying
the peace of selective reality powers we all can attain.

Write your self a tower to watch from, and watch,
Carnegie reading Kipling
by kerosene Rockefeller sold… meld into if

if you wish, imagine lampblack ink, or better,
squid ink, infused with carbon so pure, it seems
invisible, finest dust of diamond waste, used once
to shine a patterned steel san-mai blade.

Imagine the very smartest, not Einstein, person
alive when decisions were being discussed, crossing
swords with science use and useless social controls,
e.g. you know,
gra-acious example, interesting times, sifting selectors
goodness gracious, we have, in point of fact, too much
to filter with no reason,
why should one care to know why secrets are de rigueur,
poor soul asked what is going on, replys,
regular stuff, I suppose… ah, ag me on, suppose,

I invited Ben, Voltaire, and Nieztsche to cheese,
as I morphed into the Disneyified U.S. Certified myth.
The mouse in Ben and me, was the voice of the NPC.
- we had Verne's spinning disc libraries since
- drop a name from the hagiosphere of AI and IT
- Grace Murray Hopper… she's a memory.

Such books, we hold, as factual data, they hold words,
we, the current people, the fluid factor through which
CG NPCs pass in movies and games and entertainment,
- each pass think
who notices other people?
All the time, I mean, who cares, most of the time?

Crazy edgies, mad folk, filled with insights some time
passing left as artifacts, if you can believe this,
your world view shall encompass all one need know
we speak of the fall, and of original sin, we allow
priests and politicians and attention pimps, to lie.

Today, own self, and whole self,
declare adaptive lettering tech, publishing far and wide
art insisting, dare do,

think it through, couple thousand words,
what if you learn one cool new way
to think unthinkable things good
to know… post hoc.
We live as loudly as we must... life is simple, not too simple, more is sublime,
not empty of all hope that any thing you believed was a little bit true. Hard to think, but after all easy to get past... life, as a whole.
Mark Wanless Jun 20
cause reality
imposed from somewhere not us
we are just this now
Mark Wanless Apr 29
in the cause for a
whipperwill the effect is
so so amazing
Ken Pepiton Mar 25
You are standing on the nose of my
Mona Lisa,
from there,
see the stare, 15 degrees,
-you must wonder
what did she see, the stare, this
other way, standing over there near
you will be, askance, first glance,
- it not only seems small
- it is in actuality small
you'll think, I promise,
after scuffing the nose of my
Mona Lisa in chalk,
designed to emphasize the nature
of art in our imagination,
one magnitude larger.
Aldous Hucley's 1957 Gaseous We, appears in my wedom for judgement.
Angels get paid union dues. That's all art was for, once. Setting exchange rates.
Mark Wanless Dec 2022
there is cause effect
some causes are self ingrained
some effects painful
Him Feb 2021
You don't even love me, o you don't even care. When we are together, I can't tell if you're even there; I reach out for your hand, but you pull away.

You don't even love me, o you don't even care. My eyes begin to water then I hear you say. "Ty, be a man and put away those tears. Or are you still a boy, even after all of these years?"

No amount of wisdom could have made me prepared... to wake up in the morning and realise that you weren't here. You said that we'll be together forever, so did forever end yesterday? Does the end of forever, begin an eternity of pain?

You don't even love me, o you don't even care. Yet I'm still wishing that you were here; you're the cause and cure of my heartache.
Maybe if you were here, I'd be able to smile all the same.
***** trapped home
Desastruous feel
Need, struggle, work,
Liberty restored.
French cause
Mark Wanless Jan 2021
in the cause for a
whippoorwill the effect is
so so amazing
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