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Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
it's a mere wink from the waning moon,
it's two o'clock, in the after noon, post

in to night, it feels

It always does, be not astonied, it's a trip,
you did not stumble,

you are not fallen.

Astonishing is what stoning was in my realm,
we never imagined
rocks used as apes use rocks.

Astonishment, we meant.
Show the fool the truth, let'm

imagine what they saw,
samesame what
we all see as we 'come round
the mountain,
when you see,
you know you saw

the fools say
they see, after
the fact.

There is some way, where there
seems no way. Some times take days,
some take no time at all. Change what you know.

In merest of minutes, the moon shall slip
below my horizon and my
spelling trance fail
to make sense
from in or
of darkness, this time of day.

Redeem the lunatics,
this cult culture made made our children mad,
for noreason, but gravity and
matters of time, some
an imbalance in the way
words reach round the world,
as fast as a spell spoken

in the beginning. Bang.
You're dead. Too bright.

No, you did not anger the gods,
this is an old thing,
under the sun.
Augmentisism is a shock to the system,
so no mindmob sees this without being
Upgraded to use the tech.

Now, wait for the tech,
we always beat them to the finish.
Artisto Informo Archeo Typo
whiteout, blame the paradigm shift,
they insist on punctuality.
---- life goes on, we always win in the end. True.

A new voice added to the choir,
preached to
the lie was law
among men imagining

only evil, continually.
Catastrophic morphic
resoundings ding ding ding

Do any American children recall air-raid
sirens announcing noon?

Do they know how to hop a freight,
and twist the rails into
an idea for a
based on an origami swan taken to the nth?
An a musing day, June 27, 2019. Historical and all. For unknown reasons.

— The End —