/                                america, july 18th:
  and the utter media shambles -
like ****** and steroids
for the uninitiated -
     tongues without the rattlesnake
trill of an ᚨᚱ:
   numbed w'ah w'ah peddling
of woe to row the sinking boat:
maniac adult funfair
attempting a nostalgia
for the playground game
of bulldog...

                russia, 25th march:
the kemerovo fire (siberia) -
          children frying, screaming,
perhaps even hoping -
  a shying herod, the example
of: as moloch descended...
          prayers in the fire
                  by the innocents...

england, july 19th -
   alternative to rehydrating
using water...
    a generous 5 hour sleep -
******* on the remains
of last night's lemon
     used to infuse the subtle
smoky of bell's whiskey,
playlist:

- the jon spencer blues
  explosion (bellbottoms)
- britney spears (criminal)
- twenty one pilots (heathens)
- calvin harris (this is what you came for)
- camila cabello (habana)
- rihanna (disturbia)
- birdbrain (youth of america)
- ghost (ritual)
- focus (hocus pocus)
- edwyn collins (a girl like you)
- the guess who (american woman)
- the knack (my sharona)
- cronica (herr mannelig)

and then onto buckling in
4 beers and thinking
about black holes as the pin-head
of antimatter -
a dead sun...
     dead, but not dead...

   and the first, crude graphic
tomb raider game...

   rather than having completed
it...
     since only owning
a demo...

                 investigating
the possibility of 2D objects in
3D space...
       well: the universe isn't even
exactly 3D: it's hyper-3D...
    but in the tomb raider game
you could walk up to a minor
detail in the game, a fern,
and observe two-dimensionality
in a "three dimensional space"...

   namely: the ferns were all 2D,
and rotated within a "hyperbole"
of the eye -
   however you observed the "object"
it rotated round and round,
never allowing you to see
    its demoniac otherside -

i can only expect dead suns to
behave in such a manner -
   two dimensional objects in a three
dimensional subject matter -
almost paradoxical -

     rotating at immense speed...
invigorating a near but not quiet
a postportem of a death...

       and you really can see UV light
surface
staring at a glaring hot sun with
a naked eye -
   and see the same hyper-rotation -
it's almost like looking at
molten silver, but with a hint
of violet - i.e. akin phosphorescence:
but in the daytime...

and who said you need to
ingest hallucinogenics -
    and enter the labyrinth of a short,
short, history,
    of the chipmunk caveman?

i'm just drunk, you're probably
sober...
    but those guys doing
a timothy leary sermon?
   they're...
     gone.......................... gone -
     they hit the tangens curve.

I scribble about planets strewing from the face
They’re hip-hop graffiti or spiting images of
exo-lifeforms.
Abstract wavelengths circling from heads
canvasing an earth unlike what i’ve
kaleidoscope before
You’ve  s e e n  it.

The face
The endless kamikaze from exoplanets
swaddling behind bulging eyeballs.

of supernova’s and B-72 solar systems
My birdbrain.

Your sad and weary caterpillar eyes
Finally helped me come to realize
Our future need to metamorphasize
No more crawling, lets be butterflies

But sometimes I'm as blind as a bat
And I can move as slow as a sloth
Lets order in, watch TV, and get fat
Blame the world and turn all goth
But instead lets try on another hat
Lets flap our dusty wings as a moth
You Coulda been a filthy street rat
Lucky to be cut from a different cloth

Yes you may live like a bird on a wire
You may be a rabbit blinded by desire
Chasing tail, just another skirt to squire
Learn to fly moth, headfirst to the fire

Or perhaps you"re an ostrich with it's birdbrain in the ground
Blissfully ignorant to see sights, smell, taste or hear a sound
Bringing up the rear, blindly spiraling yet you're nowhere bound
Stand up tall and breathe in life, and lets make it epicly profound

My home lies in a distant world
Unknown to me
My consciousness takes me there
In times of despair

Where my family is always laughing
And the cook’s always cooking
The birds always singing
And the books always, well, booking

My room lies in a separate part of the house
Hidden away from sight and sound
My bed, the storehouse of my dreams
My palace of solitude

It’s there where I think
It’s there where I dream
It’s there where I write
There where I eat ice cream

But then they came
And placed clocks inside my room
I asked what they were for
“To tell you the time, birdbrain.”

Why would anyone in their right minds
Want to know the time?
I know when I’m hungry
That’s the time I’m hungry
I know when I’m sleepy
That’s the time I’m sleepy

What do I need clocks for?
So I threw the clock out

But they came again
With a bigger clock this time
The kind which doesn’t fit in my window sill
So I gave up
And thought to myself,
“Well, I don’t need it. If it’s there,
Let it be.”

And so it was
The clock kept ticking
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick ******* tock

Until the noise of the hand
Was written in my brain
In every song I sung
Every thought I thunk
I couldn’t make the noise go away

It was taking over my life
Telling me what we do
When to eat and when to sleep
And when to do the other stuff that I do

So I broke the clock
And thought it was over
But the world wouldn’t give up
They just couldn’t leave me alone
They came one after another
And put clocks in my room

Every shape, every size
Wristwatches, wall clocks
They even got me
A grandfather’s clock
Until every space inside my fortress of solitude
Was filled with tiny, ticking machines
And every cell in my mind
Became just like theirs

Now I’m one of them
And wear a watch wherever I go
I see the time before going out
I see the time when I’ve to get home

I know what I’ve become
I’m scared of what’s next
I’m scared of the time
I’ll have to put clocks
In the room of a little boy
Who’ll never be the same again.

I will never see yellow the same
As when I asked her
Of my favorite color
Truth be told, I never had one
She shouted with this flame
And in a spur
I bet every dollar
And she still won

I won’t argue or complain
Even when she calls me birdbrain
For I love her
Through and through
She has always been true
And I hope she thinks of me too

Nattering **** head of negativity
Birdbrain, half-wit *****
Can’t count on to get on
Ever a nerd twerp blockhead
Braindead- can’t follow a single thread
Instead
Dance to the strings of your puppet poodle
You’re boring attempts are feudal
You’re as appetizing as a ten-day-old strudel
Square head, *******, yoyo, bozo
Backhoe cargo
Exciting as bread dough
Rising
Not surprising
That I’m so despising
You’re constant attempts at upstaging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your raging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your blaming
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your constant contradictions left me
With a drug addiction
I’m not blaming
Just saying
Praying for the end
But wait
Why all the hate?
What hate?

Isn’t the mirror
Reflecting the interior
Can anyone save me from my nightmare?
Scared
That must be it
I mean me.

gold of kings cannot touch it
their robes o' scarlet cannot match it
the wonder that is the flying goldfinch
that holds me in a boxer's clinch

which master craftsman formed this bijou
of rubies carmine, soft white 'n champagne,
its auric bands on wings of two
proclaims aloud 'twas no birdbrain.