Here is the machine in pure alkene
A V2 bride needs azide
Sapiens smog for analog
The old anew, what's it to you?
Tritium
Initium

Initium
Tritium
What's it to you? The old anew
Analog to sapiens smog
Dreams azide, for the V2 bride
Pure alkene in the God Machine

Happiness is in the sun
Wholesome as a loaded gun
Happiness is in the mail
With a pseudo-guarantee that it’ll be stale

Happiness is hygiene
A clean-luck living without caffeine
Happiness is your home
And the right man’s job that we should know

If it wastes itself on you
Well you know what you have to do
Paint it on a fan
Hop in the caravan

Happiness is in the sun
Real as surreal or an eight-mile run
Happiness is in the mail
Shipped to the coast by a gale

Happiness is hygiene
Waking up to the morning sheen
Happiness is your home
Stable as a steady quote

If it fits itself on you
Well you know what you’re not to do
Show it down in stride
Smile real wide

Smile real wide
Smile real wide
Smile real wide

I've been waiting for a while
Waiting on the bus, lingering Acadia road
With stark canary smiles
Tires sliding south, piercing lights through the snow

The grouching driver smiled for a buck
But it wasn't my number, just his luck
The face mistook

The madmen piled on top of one another
Spitting stories of tenuous times
Though they complained about the weather
They would do so well to shine every dime

The bus came and noticed my suit
The others followed me in pursuit
Of their boots

I am happy looking at the snow
And only feeling through the cleanest window
But everybody's in a jiving craze
I'm amazed or maybe I'm enhazed
By the speed of streets
And my halted heat

The participants of equilibrium
Took attempts at a kinetic sleep
Instead they chant, in dulled delirium
And take a peek at their synthetic keeps

Neon lights and thinking, dancing strobes
Stamping all their prints into my lobe
As the traffic probes

The wolf in withered wool
Talked about the finest winter day at the start of fall
His owner pulled a spool
Out of her spine, turned it to money, aimed a gun at her own gall

People were aroused ‘till they were pale
And the snow took on the visage of hail
It had us all impaled

A preacher in the back carried the thrall
Of every ancient play and denounced them all
Then every mind’s speed-o-meter broke
The bus in that moment served to provoke
The red lights have stalled
But I am simply staring at the wall

The beautiful marmalade-
Haired lady was a victim of the locks of fate
As the buses fade
Onto pavilions of blurs into oblivion’s gate

The passengers sink past another precinct
The districts become less and less distinct
Vision is extinct

The cosmic eye’s offspring
Held a mundane life of bounding over mounds of salt
They came off of spring’s
Offering and found the true, world-collective gestalt

They fret over the facets of fossils
They seek to shine on acrimonious ant-hills
Passion is distilled

The merriest of people lie, forlong
And do not feel bothered to belong
But when the bus transitions to a train
The vindictive vain are doused in pain
Queens on their knees
In well-ragged fleece

The bellowing bell-maid
Rang a tune that sang the smells of Familiar Arabia
The sums that we all paid
Meant nothing at all as the golden sands enshroud grey Acadia

The replicated people do not dwell
Or belong inside my newfound well
While they seek to sell

The curl-headed mind,
Kept and groomed by the spotted hand of mercury
Grabbed the leashes of the hind
And repeated tales of great Apollo’s century

In the prints on dunes, he has found
The journey and a lack of solid ground
His bounds make no sound

The beaming castle of the once-gestalt
The gardens of the sky that never halt
The market district full of jubilee
Perpetual and peaceful entropy

Once a fool to look into the past
Now he pays attention to the mast
Once entailed his failure to the sea
Perpetual and fleeting harmony

Now, we sway
Grasp your every day

I used to live a life of color, saturated in love
Every day I'd thank God up above
But all that color has since drained from my veins
And I'll continue on carrying these chains

At first all I could see was the color red
The only feeling I knew was the pain in my head
But now I just live in a world black and white
Hoping that someday I'll defeat this plight

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever feel again
Sometimes I wish I never did
Life wouldn't seem so bland if I didn't know what color felt like

But I've done some thinking
There's only so far to the bottom when you're sinking
I've already touched the sand
and life doesn't have to be so bland

I've picked up the brush,
now it's time to paint the sky

U Oct 7

The pineapple is the whole,
Whether in the ground
Or in your bowl.

Rock in hand; above, down, pound.
Crack the spiny hull.

Sweet juice is found.

For all the fruits with sweet tooths out and about.
Maria Etre Oct 5

I fell through
the circles of hell
and the further
the more
I fell
the more
fire felt like warmth
struggle felt common
and hell more
like home

The fool headed out with his heart
Checked over his shoulder for time
He wore a cigarette apart
And witnessed a rhyme
Quickened steps on New York streets
Greetings with a shaky hand
He says, “I fancy myself a deadbeat,
Nobody understands"

The fool played for his life in a bar
Stuttered every line with tension
He was everybody’s car
He worked for the pension
A mind of a kinetic brand
An isolationist caress
What's thrust into his hands
May put him among the rest

He’d be a shell to sell what is on his mind
But it’d be so bold if he sold his thoughts and time
Are the crows encumbered on his twitching tail?
Or were you so cruel to hang them up in hail?

He quickly made a tune for a boon
A derelict with a short fuse
The vain throw pity at the loons,
Who are their muse
Looking for a piece of a mind
Anything but his own
Travels in time, just to find
He can dine on the throne alone

The foil flailing on the wall
Fooling him to wail and write
Then the train of a mind stalls
Into the ceaseless night
“Write me well and write me to love”
The papers on the bookshelf say
Won’t you push them when they come to shove,
And seize that day?

You’d be a shell to sell to sell what is on your mind
But you’d be so bold if you sold your thoughts and time
Are the crows encumbered on your twitching tail?
Did the gabardines’ golden boy finally fail?

You desperately wanted to be sought
Yet you did not want to hang off the peak with a knot
Maybe you will try to linger on
And scream in streets when every chance is gone

She said, "Hello. You look like shit."
I said, "To what do I owe this. . . this compliment?"
A double whiskey on the house
I said, "Fine with me, I always take the first one free."
"But you've been here all night," she said,
"In fact every single night this week."

Hope stands monstrous in the door
Can't tell if it's as it is or if it's my eyes swimming
Memory's a funny thing, because from what
I remember I never was a drunk
Just everyone on dad and grandpa's side
Cruising all the way up the line

Now, reflection's come to cast
proper shadow 'cross my heart
in clouded mirrors with lights off
I outsmart the faint voice
No hands, pissing in the dark

halp mi

New mildew mania, oh man-of-war
Live by the letter, and kill for the car
The dreamers, constrained by the fog they can’t see
I uttered this song in Breakaway Alley

A wandering blonde in the restless air
Their kids half-afraid that they’re halfway to nowhere
Think what you may, they are not in a trance
Wield what they say and you’ll find that you dance

Upon every row, lies a flag waving by
Apartment gravestones kissing up to the sky
Now, must we try so hard for fake jubilee?
The happy ones live in Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley is on the run

All the country crows, they’ve committed a crime
Each of their wings flapping mad out of time
To fly with such freedom, but stay so cloudbound
Cacophonous sounds fighting for our own ground

The buds only look up for leviathans
To take them to the realm they misunderstand
To pity the fool that does not try to flee
We sit on our stools in Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley has emptied the guns

The youth do not stir at the visage of hell
There is no romance in the streets’ calling bells
And while we may treat such a threat to be shown
The dagger of a mind is dull while unknown

The ravaged pretender spoke of the Romans
His gauntlets of gold, earned from fate’s happenstance
To escape his blood, he would face down the sea
The velvet hands shook in Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley is due to be shunned

The eye of childhood feared the forgotten paint
They lay, unencumbered, on secular saints
The falsified folly in full leopard print
The troops in their trollies with pockets of lint

The radio is silent in time’s aging vice
We hear and don’t listen, bats spliced with mice
But maybe, you will see this sweet harmony
Remember the words of Breakaway Alley

In Breakaway Alley lies the sun
Breakaway Alley has finally gone

When the baby screams for the first time, aged five
Will it lament on the loss of its life?
When the kids rear for a solution wherever you go
How much will it take to say “God, I’ll never know”?

Remember the words of Breakaway Alley
Its not all you see, its not simply me

Do not take me for a stone-age kind of man
This sailor ain’t for war, I hope you understand
I am not a prophet, or a holy avenue
I just seek some profit, from misery and truth

I could've made some
I could've had sums

As I am returning to the city shore
There waves a fire burning, revolution once more
Here lays a riot, well at least they're black and white
I would never fly it, as I'm too weak to fight

I just count n' mime
My money and time

I have not forbade, but I have yet to rise up
The Charlottesville brigades, I have not shared their cup
To dwell in security is to be blind
If I had the temerity to share my mind

I would feed them
I would lead them

The slumbering playwright stays far from the screen
He spits and he bites, doesn’t know what he means
As he entertames what you want from the green safety net
Its what’s going on, the pockets speak for a bet

I would be allowed
I shouldn’t be proud

Six decades ago, it was a weapon we feared
What is not known, what’s in the atmosphere
It was us or them, it was them or us
They were condemned, but in shelter and trust

I would’ve followed
But the past is hollow

We are still nuclear, our money’s in other hands
We are still unclear as to what’s to comprehend
You got hacked and sacked, the millions that they stole
If you want it back, they’ll burn you another hole

I could've robbed them
I could've stopped them

I've just got to tinker, see where my heart's at
You've all got your thinkers, but where's your diplomat?
Who is scared of treason in such uncertain times?
Who remembers reason when we're all losing our dimes?

I will know you
I will tow you

A mob of many dreams, a street for the film tapes
With rainbow-coloured seams, a nation looks agape
A drifter on the mound, the soft-spoken souls
The ever-changing sound, a flag of many poles

Like a flea,
I shall be free

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