It’s Sunday morning, my watch shows that it’s 33° and 5:58 am. Surprisingly, half of us are up and motile. My excuse is that I’m scheduled to volunteer at the hospital this morning.

Leong just came up from the basement fitness center, she’s all sweaty. “I hate that metal music those giant guys in the weight room listen to.” Leong said, slipping her shoes off.

“That music makes me feel so hot, It has such energy.” Sunny shivers, slipping-into a sweater.

“I don’t understand old music.” Sophie said, spreading butter on a piece of hot toast.

“What does THAT mean?” - I had to ask - thinking she meant “classical music,” which I love.

Sophie explained, “My English professor played this old song for us - it’s old - “The times they are a changin”, by Bob Dylan? It’s an AMAZING song”

“You’ve never heard THAT?” I asked, dubiously, but slobber-knocked if it were true.

I never LISTEN to old music,” Sophie shrugged, “it sounds so flat and one dimensional - I can’t stand it,” she winces. “I like spatial audio, binaural and object-based dolby atmos, you know - lossless and three dimensional.”

“Don’t get technical with me,” I said, as if offended, while gathering my gear,

“But you watch Carol Bernett and all those old TV shows.” Lisa said, “What’s the difference?”

“Video?” Sophie argues, with an implied “HELLO,” as if that one word made everything obvious.

I missed the rest of it, my watch beeped, it was time to disco, I had stops.

I can’t deny Peter and I are sync’d these days. Have we fallen in love? Maybe, but I think we’re still upright. He doesn’t tease me about my fear of heights, bugs, the dark, and cheesecake - anymore. He overlooks my crying during movies, streams and pet-reunion videos. It’s reciprocal, of course, I let him hate salad dressing, ketchup (just odd) bananas and chocolate (can you imagine?), I let him help me with homework and I try to ignore his awful bro-act, around his bhessys.

I’m going to Peter’s to watch football, later, ‘cause I love my NFL. The doctoral guys have a notorious “mancave” situation setup in their basement where they red-zone, kaber, or blare shley emo-core at 120db. I flat told Peter that when my watch alerts to harrowing audio levels - I’m outro.

But between you and me, these guys make THE best BBQ (they slow smoke briskets or something). I’d probably just go upstairs, put on my noise-canceling AirPods, read (with the smart girls) and wait for the **** eats.

Monday’s Halloween - Happy Halloween everyone!

Tempted Significance.

Zero moments did I say wait.
As for the forsaken channel decided to be draped.
In electric blue.
Only to be draped back into clouds.
Passing foothold on lonely function.
& twisted return in waves.
Lay shy in the face.
A cryptic respite.
Embraced by the wolves in the atmos.
Of all self being.
Self too clear for comfort.
& too silent for silence.



Garrett Johnson.

The lightning
A sharpness of illumination
The charged ions, her hands.
I want to join her
Her vehemence, her power, her random abandon
Her ardency, her benevolence
She strikes the earth with a tremendous blast
And cracks the crags of cenozo
The snapping of her leashed dogs
Excite the nightro

gen

I shall climb the mountains to the west
I have to yell loudly into the atmos in hopes of her hear
I will thunderously dance under her wet and hope its tears
If answered, I shall join my love in the aether, and become one with her.

i awoke at the sign of
obsession
nor can i recall
the incision of such
a poisonous blank stare
into dusk     the anguish
and disgust embedded into
subconscious lucid atmos
has got to remain at
     a sincere halt
as the .25 percent
of whole that i feel
can't even express how
                  low that is
a lack of oxygen
impairs neurons to
reciprocate any
       negativity
a deep breath
    diluted vision
and a memory of
passionless lust
is
          awareness

You don't really want me
Or know what I am
I'm more of a monster
Than I am a man

To learn what I've done
In the past, a nightmare
To see through my eyes
Is a sun-spotted glare

It would just leave you blind
With your tail in between
And your past in rewind
Up a flash-broken stream

Yet as it fast-forwards
It all passes by
You will feel like a God
All alone in the sky

Where your setting resembles
The beauty in pain
Born merely to die
While bound to this brain

As a feeling machine
With a lithium heart
Energized by emotional
Chemical art

As it flows from the brush,
Or the pen, or the sword
Machiavellian muses
Of severed accord  

Couldn't stop the all-mighty
The father of time
The eternal high king
The most masterful mind

Who hears your exalts
As the crack of a whip
Because demons of freedom
Are my power trip

And I worship my maker
My change and my spark
With a riddle bit light
And a hint of the dark

You may follow the leader
Or challenge the tyrant
Regardless, the sheep
All submit to the lion

But I only hunger
For words to fulfill
My famished empire
Without the blood spill

Still I hold no claim
To this gilded cage feast
I wish only to tame
This industrial beast

End the ownership over
This name-branded earth
And slash the price tags
From the truth in the dirt

When I rise from the void
The undeadliest ghost
The half-life of the party
The first Sunday post

I am rare breeds of rebel
The blue-shaded red
I'm the hammer and sickle
The grim reaper's dread

My coup will be swift
Like a thief in the night
My reign will endure  
Through the ages I write

My purge will emerge
In the surging of storms
My war will lay waste
To these spineless conforms

And from ashes of norms
And the freeing of slaves
I will build pyramids
Atop amber grain waves

I will cleanse atmos-fears
With metropolis trees
Deforested cities
Will fall to their knees

But I will uplift them
To share in my vision
As I keep the peace treaty
Sealed in this prism

Burning in the Midnight Sun.
On the Other side of the World Tonight, It's Bright.
Tossing and Turning To the whims of a Jet-Stream.
Steam Heat from
The Other side of the World Tonight.
Who wants to be
a Cement Sidewalk,
Stuck to the Earth,
And Waiting to Crumble?
Waiting For the Sun to Rise
In the Western Skies
Just one time.
How can you sit in one place for so Long
and not Die,
Knowing it's Bright,
On the Other side of the World tonight.


Somehow...
Someway...
We'll all make like Storm Molecules.
Racing For the Sun,
We'll evaporate up out of this ocean,
And Climb towards the Stars,
Only to find ourselves
Condensing
When the Sun Reaches back around to
The Other side of the World tonight...


Something in me makes me want to leave this Atmosphere,
turn into a satellite.
I'm Sunken Ship.
I'm Staring up through thousands of feet of ocean.
Slowly becoming Deformed
By Crushing Pressures.
It's midnight or so
I'm told.
It's the time where days change places,
And I'm stuck in the cold part of the pool,
where the blue turns to black.
where it gets hard to breath.
And It's the farthest place away from
The Other side of the World tonight.


Rocketship come save me.
Take me out beyond the 7 Spheres,
Atmos and Stratos and whatnot.
Up beyond earthly gravity's reach,
Where Sol reigns beyond need for days,
and it matters not what happens,
On the Other side of the World Tonight...