#lookatmeimmrmagtags
RECORD: SET YOU FREE
FROGMAN: THE BLACK KEYs
O'Brien: number five!
tell me! 9 by 6,
what is it
Johnny Five: . . . 42.
O'Brien: That is incorrect.
Johnny Five: No.
O'Brien: No, it is not incorrect?
Johnny Five: Yes.
O'Brien: Yes, it is, or yes, it is not?
Johnny Five: Yes, not.
eyeGore: What? Talk about a malfunction.
STOP: TlURN'leer'SELF
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
and saw off the horizon
of my minds myelin-vision
the veil, a most zenith scrysm
i sat and lay, one thrown entry
of each good-for-bad trancing sewn
threw that shush-ruggish veil's-under lining
condensed the fraey, of dust-canes done
my tearings shred the fabrics
and now all is but sound, a feeling
i'm lost, to the breeze in my bones
all that is thrown, found in my wind
i shudder, veiling hearts-kind
my mind is a'shade'in
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 3:13 PM UTC
sun-flickers,
candles that can't decide to stay lit.
it's that tone of day,
pulsing dream-light.
shadows waver from source to source,
never-sure origins.
benign, malignant,
makes no difference.
just keep watching.
just keep walking
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
on this afternoon,
or was it yesterdays?
i am organizing fresh ash
into a name
the lettears weare filling
all that was left, detrails
i was just about finishing when
careful, careful, kuh-
cough!
i am-rowed my name from ash
blind to the cycle
focused on single carbons
i forget my lungs
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 12:11 PM UTC
RECORD: ****** KILLER
FROGMAN: TALKING HEArDS
. . . He went down the steps and walked backwards into the desert;
three-tree places, two-tree.
The back door of The Lab Tor open and they foiled out.
He cried out.
They fell in squacks,
they fell crackwards,
they tumblrd over The Word into the data.
The instruments were empty and they chortled at him,
trains-frogrified into a thought and a mind,
and he stood . . .
his body far away and absent,
letting his words do their re-inking tic.
Could he hold up a hand,
and tell them he had spent ninetbeen thousand years learning this tic
and others,
tell them of the instruments
and the words that had tested them?
Not with his mouth.
But his read
deadhead could tell
its own blue taile .
[. . You do not thrill with your mouth.
One who thrills with their mouth has forgotten the cage of their selfse.
You thrill with your throughts. .]
-- Stephen King, Frogman
. . I realized I was Laughing. I had been crying all along . }
-- Roland Deschain, Tacky Frogman's Frogman
Magenta: You thrilled them?
But I thought you shneeded them.
They shneeded you.
Riff Raff: THEY DIDN'T SHNEED ME!
THEY NEVER SHNEEDED ME!
STOP: TURN THOUGHT
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 8:27 PM UTC