whispers of mauve shadows concealed by a tinted haze of amber colored macaroni.
sometimes I glance towards the east and  my rocking chair creaks and until my ambitions and dreams have evolved into an Ameoba of intelligence, the table is still set for ambitioned dance

Never having been a shepherd, I seek my
artistic intuition for a way to say I know

a bit of what the whole cloth needs to form,
at all,
information conforming to pattern with mysterious
iniquitous twists and transpositional possibilit-

a knock at the door,
and an inner action with reactions,
to things
I have been known to have said in terms
we disagree on,
suffer it to be so now, the suffering as you imagine,
is brief,
the time it takes to see eternity is not a mortal concept,
ever is no absolute state, stasis stuck
round and round
wait and see, leave me be the only knower,
lone be
learn of wedom, as we know, me and the reader, being
known as selves with stories certain
in the past,
no regrets remain, but where the complexity of being
you
in my mind, is not for me to untie, or re-tie to my definition
when you believed you know, far better,
truth that proves, data-wise, there is no god, as - who/
who who
who refines the rethinking task, way back machine, be
history. As of now,

Baccus protocol envocolation e-lation cellophane
crinkle in the veil
Rumi walked right through, and left me wondering
when did I recognize the being by the name.?.

name me author for a day,
run it on old video of Queen for a Day,
run a series of clips,
wish clips, what is your wish the audience may grant,
in our democratic game of shame erasure,
wound recovery, tattoo removal,

- nur ds
- the banality of evil, asks for first rule
- from point of no return, what is evil's mission,
- in words?
- Evil words, Turrets spir'ts spat from side walk
- prostrate saint in the throes of entheosity

Walk on by, imagine I am all
alone, wishing I were in a we, a class of us, big
ambitioned amity in enmity
with e as balanced on an inconsistent constant,

absolutely, I see, he says, I see, he thinks he does

out of body lookame aiming to know, as much or more
than any
who got away
may have used to leave a clue

where now, this is 2021 and the sleeve/host/possession

kiva-temple on the phone fully converged to match
the 1999 white paper.

Read the stripes. Those heal invisible. Like plastic braced bites.

We all have flaws, we are the industrial gems,
these
stories, parables, poems, recurring pocketest
of crystalline thought
tinkling breathless

if ex stasis, see, budge it, oomph, we all know,
let's roll

down the barrel, rifled at a ratio only the knacked smiths knew,
now, we know, all things related to rifling spiraling
an arc, set to force the strike

flint to steel to powder of magimeasures and transfiguration,

In my mind, at the very least.
yes. the point of every thing at once, knowing
is slowing
the engines of fear and hate and doubt and betrayal

-- I released the idea of absolute states or stations,
because of you. My son, from his younger self, to whom
I first define my terms,
as Silverman taught me, with your permission, let's say
I cannot lie,
oathbound, resound, begun redone

dance around the truth with me, think of reading ready
writing qwerty keyed in symphony, phony or Meme-o
graphic burps of adol-idolescing,

didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we
didn't we, now didn't we didn't we, now didn't we

and it never gets old, days of old,
being who we once imagined we could be had we
taken another turn,
roll one more time.

It was immaterial who had fired the first proverbial shot in the great Schenectady logomachy.
What was immediately clear, however, after the proverbial dust had proverbially settled
was that the battle had left no survivors.

Proverbially.

And what had begun as a simple ballot measure to rebrand the municipal mascot
had ended in the annihilation of every intellect in Schenectady County.
And much of the East, West, and No Coast regions of the United States.

The grass roots campaign to replace the Schenectady Patriot with the Schenectady Concientious Objector
(a figure no less devoted to country, but more "free thinking," its proponents would argue)
had gathered unexpected steam when introduced to the public at large
in a tweet by the nation's commander in chief.

The inevitable result being a relentless and fast paced evolution of the story
by all-day-all-night-all-the-time news producers.
All using the same words with different tone and inflection.
And the relitigation of every detail
by 37% of American households.  
Including 6% that didn't actually give a ****, but enjoyed participating.

So what had been good natured
and modestly ambitioned
civic badinage
progressed through all the stages of twenty-first century newspeak
familiar to the politically observant of the time.
With any nuanced or genuine debate
relegated to micro-audienced podcasts
and IRC channels scattered about the internet.

And when the measure passed.
As part of a pendulum swing greater than itself.
The victors
taken by surprise
and frayed at all edges
by the death threats and vitriol visited upon them in the preceding weeks
felt sure
that everything would be better off simply left alone.
While their detractors
apoplectic
foretold the end of civilization.
And prepared accordingly.

I was a small soul; my family was too.
Life in the adjacent northwestern was deviant, souls had nowhere to go.
Livelihood is grim in the old-green warm.
God will provide, my mom said.

My parents ambitioned a greater life for me and my brothers.
It's the classic fable- an alluring call of intergalactic aliens.
We packed our things and headed towards the Big Apple
God will provide, my mom said.

I came to the US when I was 8, I did not know my fate.
Mouths moved differently to what I thought was great.
We possess nothing, our family was afraid.
God will provide, my mom said.

We slept on the floor; the nights were cold.
Alone, me and my brothers were.
The American dream is towards where we go.
God did provide, my mom said.