You are in there,  I am certain of it--
Behind the gear's finely-honed,
precision fit  gear..

in to gear
in to gear

into gear..
And I wonder..  do you want out?
The machine  on the outside, self-repairs
Any attempt towards dismantle  from
the external,  is futile..
But the internal,  beautiful girl..

"I don't know what you mean, about 'machine'"
She is apprehensive, those beautiful
brown eyes,  looking up at me..
"Look down, sweet girl"
Her thighs, fully parted,  as I slide
in to her.. those amazing hips,
moving so perfectly with mine,  extracting..

Milking from me, my warm  pulsing *****--
a deeply-penetrating lubricant,  pulsed
deeply into the machine
As if to lubricate its gears..
As if..

But penetrating so deeply, as to now
permeate the insides  of the
mechanization's innerworkings--
turning from lubricant, to that
of a corrosive nature..
Fully coating now, the inner you..

as it turns back now, into that
of a healing balm
Bringing to you  a moment of Light  
  and internal clarity--  
long enough for you to see

    That the machine  is made vulnerable
    by the ever-changing qualities  of
    Love that found its way through
    As the awakened parts within you, for the
    first time.. understand

the machine's love-blocking,  nature
And you begin to choose, mid-******
the machine's dismantle,  from the inside--

'Little by little..

Line, upon line..

Block, upon block..

Precept, upon precept..'

Until we have the chance,  once again..
to do it all again

Here oh postmodern nihilist
the grave awaits
your death
wish:

Life
      a
         struggle

escape it

death
          so tempting

grasp it

             and take its era with you:

Keep it
            away from our church's

                                                     our schools

                                                        ­                 our civics
                                                          ­                          
                                                                ­                          and further culture.

Lo, the children
black as the hell they die in...

Its inordinately subjective unconsciousness;
confused emotionally with its ineptitude of reason.

Blaming its former God,
for their own doing.

Wanting to save that world upon themselves left behind from such a rejection.

Lest they live in a Christ so unjust.
As to not know all men equally,
but to judge them--in their distinction.

Creation
your natural law
emphasizes that which we do not want to come to terms with.
If only we could make us all inter-dependent biological beings of mechanization.

Chain me to genetic determinism and biochemical reactions foremost -- lest my soul affirms inequality:

                                                    ­                              Liberty exulted
                                                         ­                         by the risen Lord:
Supremacy/Autonomy

© S. Wesley Mcgranor

I don't care much in knowing how this monster was born, I have detailed case files on its existence and I know its patterns very well. I just want information on how it can be found and killed.

To **** any normal monster, all you must do is set it on fire, stab it with a stake, and shoot it with a silver bullet. However, it is nearly impossible to **** a true monster. They are much too practiced with their lifelong art of darkness - its mechanization through deception. Naturally living in shadowy places, they have strategies that work intrinsically against your police background. This monster you speak of – it will drag you from crime scene to crime scene, blood splatter to blood splatter, hoping you turn towards the light of the wrong evidence. Too many days, months, years have passed, it will know the planned escape route perfectly. Every true monster's greatest enemy is the light, however, its very survival depends on the shadow the light creates. You could shine your brightest and try to catch it in the act, but those walls will be marked by your monster, already running in the graffiti of a victim's blood. You might even catch a couple look-a-likes, the ones that are too young to know of your patrol patterns, too naive of their rights not to break under your torturous questioning, giving you useless answers. But that one twisted, maniacal ******* you're wanting, Detective? You'll have to find it while it's resting.

So if I cannot **** it in action and must find the monster while it rests, then it must have a home. What distant cabin of the marsh will it dwell in when I am there to capture it, to take it in chained for execution, to become this town's most needed hero?

For a monster to be born-

I told you, I do not much care in knowing how this monster-

But you see, the cabin of its resting place is the very cabin of its birth. If you wish to capture this true monster, the one that has lead to your own path as this department's chief detective, then you must trust me. You must listen, for your monster's cabin is owned by another.

Go on, then.

A monster cannot be physically born, it is merely a by product of the dark parasite found in a shadow. Anything that shines light has a shadow. One can never fall into their own, thus you must be forced into a different shadow for the darkness to find a carrier. Once inside, the parasite will aim to become its master's keeper. It will dig in search for the creature's light source, causing excruciating pain until it kills the host or disconnects the light. Once it takes over, the monster is born, taking it back to thrive in the very shadow it fell into. The cabin you seek is the exit from the shadow of another.

So to destroy this monster I seek, I must find who's shadow it once fell into? I must find the child this monster once was and pull him through the exit when he's resting. But where will I know to start?*

Continue painting. The sun is almost up.

Plumped rouge with pigment
her lip fills to graze the *******
intent to disquiet the likes of de Sade
autografted with ocular detachment
should a Marquis wish to harness
the song of the morning
within a bandolier of Seine
to ensnare any bustled Persephone
gilted by discharge of ions
into a ménage of torment
through the Porte des Lions.

Hers is the tincture of doxy
caramelized and debrided of naivety,
empowered by the eve of invention,
swollen to curves and grounded in Paris.

Illumination defies pervasion
down to every gear and pulley
she has hushed through mechanization
and lulled by steam,
swaging a cacophony of flickers
encased in glass by the Lady’s watch,
where every rivet of her plate glisters silken
reverberation in cascade,
elegant, caged, and towering,
outspoken in silence,
ever challenging the Champ de Mars.

"Paris by Gaslight," written by Dionne Charlet, is the title poem to be featured in the upcoming steampunk anthology Paris by Gaslight, the third anthology in the By Gaslight Series from New Orleans small press Black Tome Books.  Look for the first two collections of poems and short stories set in Victorian Times, New Orleans by Gaslight (ISBN 9780615801186) and Cairo by Gaslight (ISBN 9781516961528).  Both collections feature poetry by Charlet, under the pseudonym Dionne Cherie.

knowing the simple implementation
of all this ****** frustration
into some kind of mechanization
into the institutionalization
of something you'd call psychoanalysis.
i've analyzed
i've criticized
i've materialized
i've realized
that we're all waiting for our final grade.

Her laughter
español refined
Her essence
Engraved between mine mind
Her all
I seeketh to lie me down
To lift me to her cosmic airlift
To bait me in Spanish brown
To tasteth me as a sweat
Dripping from her limbs
Her wings hath caught me
Cleansed me of mine sins
Her hands wide reaching
For I've been reaching back
Stand-by for mi amour'
A ranch casa style shack
A willow tree in back
Fuchsia in the front
No mechanization of mankind
No needs, deed's, nor wants
Only eachother
Up against the wind
Flapping ourn ivory glides
Feeling free once again!!!

A night of stars and galaxies too,
Wrapped up in black and multicolor,
Wringing out my idolatry; a ****** mental coup.
First, again, the third and forth as well,
A withdrawal of emotion, my payment’s in lieu.
To fret and to toil, for each and all,
Heart locked in place, while you stand in a queue.

To have you is sorrow, to forget you won’t do,
My disillusioned paradigm a macabre slaughter of squalor.
To tear within; your knife to pass through,
The tandem mechanization of a broken nous cast to Hell,
Confided in old friends when it wasn’t right to.

Alone do I sit, alone do I prove new,
A spark so fleeting; product of a scrawler.
A rebirth a second, a boy made anew,
The offensive given from inside, the brain is his cell,
Ever changing, ever warping, a wish to avoid methylene blue.

the mechanization of this way to will our minds still fights itself
and we're losing the battle as we rule our lives from out of our minds;
in our souls, and still through the placement of shrines in our halls.
it's filled at the altar with sacrifice after sacrifice,

and today, i think i'm going to sacrifice drinking too much and gaining something to feel.

always the pretty picture...
always....
idealist love
      of awaiting the loves
of idealizing lovers...
   pristine gems,
from the depth of the Nile...
always...
  soft-core
mummy ****...
never the slaughterhouse
*****, hard...
the butcher shop
soft-core...
         it will never be that...
the cold breath of air
of the autumnal night...
       always the most pristine
love...
always the perfected
groom, and bride...
      how i whimper in the night
of this new reality
of the Stepford Wives..
         i found...
people who require a consistent
span of a man's attention...
are like machines...
reality t.v. shows are
but one outlet...
           like a mechanic discovering
faulty parts, the hidden parts...
the human condition,
articulated by secular
materialism of pure animation
within the confines of
a mechanization...
    fails, almost certainly,
every time it does fail...
the reason why the existence
of thought, doesn't translate
into much more than being,
but, rather,
translated itself from
the outlet that immersed
itself in doubt,
with the subsequent revisionism
of becoming immersed in
negation?

     to think,
but to subsequently doubt,
in order to be?
is much harder than...
to think, but to subsequently
negate,
in order to, "not" be...

because... where's is
the primordial existentialist
gamble?
the thrill of uncertainty?
to think and to subsequently
doubt is to feed the necessary
thrill of being made,
composite...

but to couple...
to think and to subsequently
negate is to regurgitate
the necessity of a doubt of
non-being's Chinese whispers...

i might have worded this
differently...

but...
to reiterate...
when thinking was coupled with
doubt, to translate itself into
being?

the French existentialists were
nowhere to be found,
given, what they proposed was
that thinking ought to be coupled
with negation,
to translate itself into
a non-being...

                  denial is the crucible
pivot of expressing bad faith...
so what is good faith?
the old enemy...
doubt is a plethora of all imaginable /
unimaginable emotions...

the rubric, behind which stands:
doubtful Thomas.

how did negation affect St. Peter?
last time i heard...
St. Thomas was a scapegoat
for his virtue...
but St. Peter received a *******
basilica!
but... St. Thomas doubted...
St. Peter? negated... twice... or was it
thrice?!

doubt is an expression
of innocence...
denial?
     denial is worse than the Satanic
lie of Eden...
      at least with doubt,
i can easily co-mingle thinking
with feeling...
but with denial?
  i can't co-mingle thinking
with feeling...
since i am enforcing
a lie, rather than freely laughing
about it...

Loki...
         jester...
   a lie freely observed and all the more
freely given,
compared to a lie forcefully
observed and all the more
forcefully made to obstruct...

negation = bad faith in Sartre's observation,
which is why,
doubt is to not be despised,
doubt = good faith...
because uncertainty,
a variant of agnosticism -
is... what Islam primarily teachers...
Islam doesn't teach anything
about the doubters of a faith,
a tickling emotion complex...
what it does teach...
is... equivalent of the chiral construct
of denying,
by persuasion to make,
nothing more, than an antithesis
construct...

and yes... i might be a drunk...
but when i read,
i manage to somehow regurgitate...
and it will never be simple...
because it's not supposed to be
simple...

  i can't make reiterations to bow
down to the populist simplicity
of the equivalence of
1 + 1 = 2.

             nein!

how the French came back to
Descartes, by simply changing
doubt, to denial...

   wonderful!

i think, i doubt, therefore i am...
   prime...
i think, i deny, therefore i'm not!
second...

the pains i have had trying to convince
someone outside of myself:
St. Thomas doubted,
St. Peter denied...

       it's not that hard to observe that
doubting is a healthy extension
of thought into feeling...
an ontological crucible... pivot... zenith...

how can someone not observe that
negation is an unhealthy extension
of feeling into thought...
an anti-ontological mound of sand...
a nadir?
            
i rather prefer the classical version,
the thought coupled with doubt...
i much prefer the labyrinth
of the heart...

because what is the alternative?
a labyrinth of the mind...
when feeling is coupled with negation...
i can't even begin to entertain...
the **** of free thinking,
enforced with every instance,
of making a denial,
                                 a perjury.

Satan didn't make a perjury,
the "supposed" lie...
is metaphorical for:
           an enzyme reaction...
arctic monkeys:
                                   my propeller...
why then... the echoes
of eons of the malicious laugh?
and Islam doesn't condemn
those who doubt...

but it sure as hell does know what
to do with those: negate,
forcefully lie...
    in order to gain some brownie
points in their ego-construction...

and... well... French existentialists...
i made my point,
i better stop reiterating
and deviating from the already given
focus points.

DAVERING DIPPYDOS CONCEALED IN THE GELID WAME OF THE WANCHANCY OF SPODOMANCY RETICULATED AROUND QUESTIONS OF INTERRAMIFICATION WE COULD PROVIDE IMMARCESSIBLE CONDITIONS DELIMITED IN THE FORMANT MATHEMATICS OF OPERATIVE DURESS THAT QUANTIFY AND QUALIFY THE INDIVIDUAL CONSTITUTED PREROGATIVES OF CLADOGENESIS ORBITED AROUND CALVOUS CONNIVANCE THAT ITCHES IN YEUKS OF BEADLEDOM THAT THE SURMISED APOTHECARY WEIGHT OF THE SUPERLATIVE DISTILLATION OF BANDOBAST GUARDED IN THE BARRULET WHICH IS SYMBOLIZED MORE CONCRETELY BY THE INTERTESSELATED DETAILS OF THE SATARA OF A FEW KEY PIONEERS IN EVERY ORBITAL FIELD AROUND ORGANITY THAT THE UNSEELED PROXENETES MIGHT DEVOUR THE IGNOVIMOUS DETAILS OF EXTENSIVE BERLINE DIATRIBE EMBOSSED INTO CIRCULAR ACCLAIM. WE FIND THE FISSIONS BETWEEN THE SPORRAN ACCENTS OF INTERDIGITATED SEGUIDILLA THAT EXERT A LOLLOPING MAGNANIMITY IN CECUTIENCY OWING THAT THE OLASIN EPOCH JUST BEGINNING OF THE CELLARERS CAPACITY TO UBIQUITIZE THEIR KNOWLEDGE AT HAND TO EVERY ORPHANED CAUSE THAT WE MIGHT KNOW THE CHEVET AND ECHARD SIMULTANEOUSLY OF ECCLESIOLATRY AND WHEN WE SURMISE FIGURES OF APPROXIMATE RANGE WE AMOUNT TO A PETTY PRIVILEGE OF 7-9% OF CULTURAL CAPITAL. WHEN WE DIAGRAMMATICALLY SEJUGATE THE CASTRAMETATED NOOSPHERE WITH AN ETAMINE PROCLIVITY TO AVOID THE LAZARET OF ELASTANE BROMIDROSIS SURREYED IN THE SELCOUTH BURROLE OF CHAMOIS FILIPENDULUOUS IN CERTAIN DIPPOLDISM OF CURRYCOMBED VENDETTAS OF BOLAR VERSUS BOLTROPE AND THE NEGENTROPY OF AUCUPATION THAT YOU MIGHT ASSIZE A NEW EXPEDITED AREINEDAN ZEITGEIST WHERE FORMULARY EQUATIONS ARE HYPOSTATIZED INSTANTANEOUSLY TO THE LEVERAGE OF SATELLITE SARANGOUSTY EXLEX PROTECTORATES SORDORING THE CATHEDRA ONLY TO THEN CONCEAL IT IN A TACTICAL NOYADE OF DELIBERATE BASCULE FROM WEALTH TO PENURY OFTEN ASSUMED AS THE GOAL OF THE WALLFISH WALLETEER BECAUSE THE SPUTUM OF RADIAL GREAVES OF GRAVID IRONY DEFLECTS VERY NOTICEABLY THE CURVATURE OF KYMATOLOGY IN THE DIRECTION OF PRECISION ONLY IN THE ARBALESK VERNACULAR THAT IS SUBLIMINAL TO THE FUNDAMENTAL RUDIMENTS OF DISCURSIVE PATAVINITY OF ORRERY OROGENS OF ENNOMIC DISCOVERIES THAT HARK THE ELOIG N BETWEEN FAMIGERATED DISTANCE LAVEERED AGAINST THE PROGENY OF PETULANT CONTUMACY THAT FEWER HYPERTROPHIES AVOID IN SIMPERED MANNERS OF RHETORIC. WE BELONG TO A HISTRINKAGE GENERATION WHERE THE BRONCHOS OF NEURYPNOLOGY WAGERED IN NEUTROSOPHY FOR STANNARY NEVES OF NIVELLATION NIDDERING ON BATHOPHOBIA FOR SUCH A PROTENSIVE AND INDUCTIVE RIGOR AND ARDOR THAT THE TIRESOME TRAVAILS OF DEBUNKING THAT WEGOTIST HAUTEUR BECOME EXHAUSTIVELY CONCLUSIVE BY THE EMBROCATION OF THE FLUIDITY MATRIX DESIGN OF A SYNECHIOLOGY SYSTEM DEVISED TO COMPUTE THE PANMIXIA EVEN IN CONDITIONS OF ANTIPANGAMY THAT THE CYBERNETIC TORQUE ON THE SYSTEM IS THEREFORE INHERENTLY BINARY AND GRAVITATED IN SUBLINEATED CARDIOGNOST CAPACITIES IN A STALWART COUNTERCLOCKWISE DIRECTION TOWARDS A HETERONORMATIVITY BECOMING BASELINE RATHER THAN INVERTED. THE PLAGIUM OF AGES IS THE CARNAL QUESTION OF CIVILIZED DISCONTENTS BECOMING PROSTHETIC SPHERES OF PRISMATIC UNITY AMONG THE SIDEREAL ACTORS OF THE ABATJOUR OF THE ESSIVE ABERDEVINE CONSTRAINTS CONTECKING THE CONSTRINGED STRIFE OF MAGNALITIES SPAWNING ROTARY REACTORS OF ABREACTION THAT FUEL A GARBOLOGY THAT BORROWS HEAVILY FROM THE GLAMOUR OF THE PROGENY OF CENTROBARIC ******. WE THEREBY SEIZE WITHIN CARAPACES OF WOOLD SLOWLY IMMERGED BEYOND THE RANCOR OF JERQUED JERKINHEAD JANSKY FOIBLES OF PARASELENIC GERONTOLOGY THAT THE SENICIDE OF THIS AUDIENCE SKEWS CONTRARY TO THE BATHOPHOBIA WHEREBY IT IS BEING SCRUTINIZED IN STRABISMUS AND THEREBY THE BODACHES OF POINTILLISM MISS THE SUBTLE IRONY OF HOW GENIUS IS JUST INTERLOCKING CRACKJAWS WITH GOBSTOPPERS IN A NEVER ENDING TEST OF THE FINESSE OF THE SACCHARINE TRAITS OF THE CREAMERY OF CIVILIZATION. THE BATTALIONS OF STEEVED BOBSTAYS JOGGLING IN SALTUS BETWEEN PERIODIC ORBITS OF ZERO MECHANIZATION BUT FULL AMPHIGORY THE CHURNED COILS OF HYPERTROPHY YIELD A RECTISERIAL STRUMPET ECDYSIAST TYMPANY IF FUNNELED THROUGH THE ALMAGEST OF FORMER IMMARCESIBLE KNOWLEDGE THAN THE INQUIRIES OF MANKIND WILL CONVERGE INTO A CONCLAVE THAT THE SCORIA WILL ENUMERATE MORE THOROUGHLY IN THE WADMALS OF ALL WIDDERSHANCY AND THE INTERRAMIFICATIONS OF PRODIGY INTERPUNCTED BY THE ALBENTURE OF WILDING IMBREVIATION OF THE STRICKLE OF YARNWINDLE OF EXPERIENCE WE DISCOVER A BLETTONISM SO MAGNIFICENT IT INTENSIFIES THE IONIZATION OF THE AURORA AUSTRALIS JUST AS MUCH AS THE BOREALIS BOTH YEUKING FOR THE BETHEL OF ESSIVE ABATJOUR IN THE JURYMAST FOR CONCRETE STEPNEYS STEPWISE IN THEIR SCABERULOUS PLOTS OF DECISIVE INGLENOOKS BURROWED IN THE FIGURATIVE MOULINS VERSATILE IN POSITION AND MERCURIAL IN THE SPRITES OF THEIR TABACOSIS OF AMASTHENIC WISDOM MIGHT WE ENDEAR A GREATER GENERATION OF ARENOIDS THAT EXIST TO ELABORATE AN ARETAICS OF BALANCED ORTHOTOMY AND ORTHOBIOSIS GROUNDED ON BIOTAXY IMPOSED THROUGH THE STRIDULATION OF THE FEW GALVANIZING THE SUNBITTERN MOON AT A GLANCING ANGLE OF PRISOPTOMETRY THAT WE MIGHT FETCH THE DIRIGISME FROM THE DIRIGIBLE. IN A NEW HUMAN AND HUMANE FRONTIER WE ARE IN A SORBILE POSITION ANCILLARY TO THE SUPERPOSITION OF SUPEREROGATORY SEDIGITATED SEDERUNTS OF NEMBUTSU DOVETAILED EVENLY EVEN WHEN DISHEVELED IN CACOPHONY THAT THE BEHEST OF THE ALVEOLATE MELLIFEROUS PLANGOR OF PLANKWISE CORSAIRS IN THEIR SUPREME PRIMACY THAT WE MIGHT EARN THE TITLE OF TEACHERS AMONG THE LITTORAL ALLUVION OF DYVORS OF SUBDICOLOUS CONDITIONS IGNORANT OF THE SCORBUTIC YOUNGSTOCKS TRIGGERED BY YESTERTEMPESTS AND YOUTHQUAKES THAT JOGGLE THE SUBSULTUS OF SALTUS FROM BRITTLE BRICOLAGE OF PRESTIDIGITATION THAT IS INTEGRAL TO THE MACARISM ENVELOPING ALL ENVIED SOULS THAT ONE MIND MIGHT EMERGE AS A MAINPERNOR OF A JURYMAST TO ACQUIT A CORRUPT SYSTEM OF MONGERY FOR ITS MINOR MALVERSATIONS AND MALCONTENTS. WE THEREFORE BELONG TO A NEWER HIERARCHY WHERE THE SUBORNED PREDICATE PROPOSITION OF THE BARYEICOIA IMMANENT ESPECIALLY AMONG TIMES OF ESBAT AND CELLARER WE MIGHT DISCOVER THE FATE OF OLMS OF ELFLOCK THAT THEY MIGHT NOT EVAPORATE FROM THE TURGID ROLLICK OF A UNIVERSAL MAGPIETY THAT ENSURES THAT MACROPICIDE IS AVOIDED SO THAT THE DENATURED TWINGES OF PROPRIETY LIONIZED BY CREDENCE IN REGARD MIGHT ORBIT IN ELLIPSE AROUND THE OBLONG ORBIT OF ITS MOST PRONOUNCED FASCINATIONS AND PERVERSIONS AND LESS AROUND THE SUBROUTINES OF THE MALADROIT FRUSTRANEOUS ECHARD OF LONGEUR SLIPSHOD IN TIME TO EDGE ITSELF FURTHER UNCIALLY IN ANGSTROM AGAINST ANGST. THE CREDENDA OF THE DOCIMASY OF SQUAMATION MANDATED BY MANY URCEOLATE ARCEATE ARBALESK COVVENGERS MIGHT SEEM SUITABLE BY PRESUMPTION BUT THE MALCONTENT INHERENT INTO A SYSTEM OF SOURDINE AND SORBILE SORBEFACIENT INDIVIDUALS INTERRAMIFIED IN CODED LETHOLOGICA DUE TO ABORIGINAL EMOTIVISM SIPHONED FROM THE LAVADERO OF THE IMMARCESIBLE MIGHT BE A DOWNFALL OF STREAMLINED ****** TOWARDS A HEGEMONY CAPABLE OF THE TORQUE NECESSARY TO SURVIVE THE HEYDAY OF HESTERNAL PROCLIVITIES GOVERNED BY A MASSIVE ACYESIS AND ACYANOPSIA WHICH EVENTUALLY MIGHT SUBLIMATE THE GREATER BARASINGHAS OF WHIPSTAFF AND WILLIWAW ABOVE THE BRONTEUM OF BEREAVED COLUMNS BENEATH TORPID SKELETONIZATION OF SEJUGATED SOCIETIES THAT CRUMPLE INTO ABREACTION FASTER THAN THEY CONGEAL INTO SOLIDARITY WHEN THE POLLARCHY IMPETUS IS STRONGER THAN THE SODALITY OF COHESION. WE NEED A SOCIETY GOVERNED BY NOMOTHETIC NOMISTIC LAWS ERECTED BY THE NOMOGRAPHY OF A WORLD WHERE NOMENCLATURE PLAYS A PROMINENT PART IN DISSIPATING NEMBUTSU AND ARRAYING THE NUMBATS TO SURVEY THE GAMUT OF AVAILABLE ENDEAVORS OF ENTERPRISE SUCH THAT THE FINITE ALEATORY PROBABILITIES OF AN ARCEATE ARRECT SOCIETY MIGHT THRIVE EVEN WITH UNEVEN VOLTINISMS THAT THE LIMITLESS RHOMBOS NEVER BECOMES A CURGLAFF BECOMING OF A FAINEANT GENERATION OF ABSTERGED STATISTICS BUOYING A SPATTEE OF SIFFLEURS THAT SUSTAIN SPECULATIVE BONANZAS ABOVE THE PITFALLS OF URMAN PIRANHAS THAT ENCAGE THE DEFT CALCULUS OF IMMISERRATION AMONG THE BAILIVATION OF WROX IN WROTH. WE NOW KNOW A SOCIETY THAT ONCE GOVERNED BY ICONOPLASTY OF VULPECULAR GAVELKIND ALLOYED NEVER BY A SEMPERVIRENCE OF MAN BUT BY A STRIDENT APOTHEGM OF SCIENTIFIC SOTERIOLOGY THAT THE KYMATOLOGY OF INTERTESSELATED SPANDRELS ENVELOPING THE DIMENSIONAL ATROPHY OF SPACETIME PARAMETERS THAT WE MIGHT OBSERVE A CONGENIAL URGE FOR BONHOMIE TO ERUPT NOT INTO A BONFIRE BUT INTO A SOLIDARITY OF PURPOSE FOR GREGARIOUS WEALTH AGAINST THE LEVY OF THE PURPRESTURE OF THE MUNDANE SYNERGIES OF CRYPTODYNAMIC CHRONOBIOLOGY YET DISSATISIFIED BY THE HYPE OF YAFFINGALES OF YARNWINDLE OUTSMARTING THE WOODSHEDDERS OF SHIBBOLETH WHO POACH WITH TAXIDERMY THE ESPALIER OF HUMAN ENDEAVOR MULTIPLIED BY THE CURRENCY OF ALL FAFFLE MEETING THE FRICTION OF ALL RUDIMENTARY REVOLUTIONS AGAINST THE FORWARD PROPULSION OF A SOCIETY OF GRANDEUR GROWING IN PROPORTION TO THE STRENGTH OF ITS MAGNATES THAT IT MIGHT COMMEMORATE THESE HEYDAYS OF THE ZEITGEIST OF ZANYISM AS A ZABERNISM OF GROWTH AND HYPERTROPHY FOR THE SYNECHIOLOGY CONSTRAINED BY MORTMAIN OF KYMATOLOGY AS A FUNCTION OF BIOCENOSIS AND THE FIELD OF MACROBIAN ENDEAVOR VISIBLE TO THE VITRAIL OF ALL LORE AND LEGENDS SPRAWLING THE ANCIENT PAST AND ENUMERATING A PRECISE FUTURE BETTER THAN WE EVER DREAMED.

ooh spooky stuff...
but i really want to un-see
seeing a fluorescent
U.F.O.,
and the garmr (hell hound)
in sanity Sim Village
outer-rim of a forest...
no thanks...

did i take any pictures?
you're crazy or something?
do i ******* look
like the next
   brian jonestown massacre
   disciple?
i want to drink my whiskey,
and listen to my
******* mix-tape...
the fact that i saw these things...
and with due process
am, considered mentally ill...
so what the ****
are you doing with the transgender
movement dehumanizing
women?!
          they once thought that
homosexual were making fun
of women aging...
what about now?!
you're pandering to these madmen
while also allowing the
rightfully mad P.T.S.D. screeches
to run the ******* show!
the first snippet of a newspaper
i stuck to my wall...
the Polak 200,000+ strong
independence march...
while Western Europe was
doing... whatever Western Europe does
these days...
           ever listen to an Italian
speak Polak?
           or a Spaniard?
or an Englishman?
       all... stand out like a sore
thumb...
how do you expect the Afghans
to speak this language?!
not all Polaks speak English...
   ****'s sake... i couldn't and wouldn't
learn the squiggly lines
of Arabic phonetic encoding....
back in England:
a competent use of the English
tongue... sure thing Kaiser...
but... you... seriously think...
that you can accommodate these migrants...
by teaching all the Polaks...
English?
so you can shuffle the Afghans about?!
all the Polaks are like...
the **** do i need to learn
English for?
what?! so i can interact with
an Afghan migrant?!
you stupid or just pretending
to be stupid?
English really is an easy tongue
to acquire... given the number
of hidden diacritical / grammatical
variations of its applied usage...
me? i vary... i'm always
suspicious of the people who
find me bound to Essex,
but not speaking the Orange-man
accent associated with
Essex-orange-girl-fake-suntan
*******...
   national stereotypes...
you know... like the mid-west
is just brimful of ****** leather-face
byproduct familial bonds...
            two points of closure...
i didn't want to see that U.F.O.,
so much so that i'm writing about it...
and no... even if there was
a video... i'd delete it...
and that garmr (Welsh,
for hell-hound)...
   in the woods chasing a rabbit...
like i once said:
i couldn't have hallucinated
the ******* rabbit...
there are plenty of rabbits
in these woods...
      i didn't film that either...
   why?
   language, when faced with
an over saturation of images,
language, when faced with words
being treated as images, or logos
(no, not the Greek logos...
the plural of logo)
has to return to the Semitic,
the primitive...

  ****'s sake... is this always going
to be a story of the Semitic
skeletal abstraction...
X-ray...
      to counter the ******* pyramids
and hieroglyphics?!
that time when Δ... implied
jack-****... let alone the concept
of a triangle, or Pythagoras,
or the subsequent letter D...
within the verb-motif of do?
that time... old as a dinosaur's ****...
and the world to boot...

well with the whole Emoji
enterprise... i'm not surprised...
but i simply can't be sympathetic
to the Alistair Crowley take
on things, siding with the stability
of civilization originating
in ancient Egypt...

phonetic encoding...
the passage of meaning can't employ
images, shapes
as the penetrating scaffold of
a concept of: forward...
the Semites understood this...
which other civilizations
later borrowed...
   this... T, H, I, S...
this is X-ray "vision"...
              i see a heart,
a pompous muscle that invokes:
i do not stop, i do not stop,
i do not stop mentality...
but i see... H, E, A, R, T...
   the Semitic antithesis of
the oldest civilization's
phonetic encoding...
     the "X-ray"...
         is what propelled us forward!

the fact that we've traveled for so long,
and with this slumbering knowledge,
to only regress back into
quasi-hieroglyphs, with something
akin to :)?

seriously?!
  for all the carousels of suns and planets
and moons in orbit...
we've been standing still...
all this ****** time!
like...
   a queue under communism...
in a shop... to exchange
food stamps for a cube of butter!
for ****'s, sake!

no... i don't want proof...
   i don't want to be believed...
the ontological schematic
of a conversion from negation
to belief is too much for me
to attempt...
  on anyone, which also includes
myself...
   i'm not doing it...
best for everyone and everything
to be mediated by
a recurrence of thought,
and of doubt...
after all... whatever philosophy is,
it most certainly is
a recurrence, but also the original
posit of / for inquisitiveness...
and that's hardly a matter
of awe, are Aristotle noted.

i.e. when in doubt? think!
why?
     well... who are the sophists?
who can succumb
to the choking mechanization
of: when in denial? think?
when in denial? talk!
also...
   the church preachers...
when faithful? talk!

Before landscapers mow swaths
across undulating waves of clover
(the father/daughter team
usually cut grass every Tuesday)
bumblebees alight from one to another flower.

Meanwhile, I lie splayed
mid morning June 28th, 2022
with stomach upon natural carpeting
quietly basking espying Robins
oblivious to presence of yours truly
pleasantly distracted unable to concentrate
reading latest issue of Mother Jones.

Revered quintessential pitch perfect...
omnipresent natural muse
idyllic and pacific temperature
sprawling within sundry
schema encompassing sundry biota
at Highland Manor Apartments)
with nary any other resident nor human
hypothetically I experience
webbed wide world
imagining domain singularly mine.

Splendiferous sunlight bathed
sol barenaked lady alas and alack
leavening kernels harkening
civilizations bajillion millenniums back
before mechanization punctuated
courtesy opposable thumb
hominids forged, molded, usurped...
mother lode carte blanche
yielding resounding click and clack
blithely extracting resources

disregarding warnings regarding drawback
Capitalism paradigm wrought
**** sapiens witnessed vanquishing
close calls with extinction
nevertheless man/womankind came roaring
full steam ahead stronger analogously
think one who trudges thru thick forests
zigzagging across rudely cleared switchback
already disappeared without a trace
what animal, (perhaps
protohuman) no tell tale track.

Blessed balm of solar warmth permeated
one primate seduced asleep
albeit 245+ months into twenty first century,
where proliferation courtesy since
first Industrial Revolution
circa about 1760 to sometime
between 1820 and 1840,
when bruising bouncer(s) maintained
law and order within barkeep
saloons in colloquial jargon cheap

trick availed supertramp goo goo dolls
guiding drunken proletariat recesses deep
makeshift private booth disproportionate
money forked over cuz
crowded house needed upkeep
occasionally respectable fellow
(an average Joe just Biden time
in tandem with his imaginary veep
enriched coffers, whereby generous money
found vent to all purdy girls to weep.

Daydreaming, and inebriate on air
I taste a liquor never brewed* beware...
potential plagiarism avoided
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) gave clear
signal, though she dwelt (still does)
with dead souls - poor dear
mine non deliberated reference to said poet
spontaneously sprung into logophile engineer

her brief life, yet...
impacted American and English literature
triumphant and devoid of fear
harmonious, prodigious, and voluminous
hand deftly wrought skads of poems
within her noggin cogs and appropriate gear
smoothly meshed only a humble folk like her
muffled modest gaiety only she could hear.
-------------------------------------------------------
*I taste a liquor never brewed (214)
Emily Dickinson - 1830-1886
I taste a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!
Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,

From inns of molten blue.
When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove's door,
When butterflies renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!
Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
And saints to windows run,
To see the little tippler
Leaning against the sun
---------------------------------------------
further details:https://
academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/
english/melani/cs6/liquor.html

I've said it, I've addressed the person who's running amok
I know not if this person is happy or out of luck
Please do not reply with a "How dare you! It's ma'am!"
For I care not, I'm underpaid and you look like a man.

You've cut your hair short, you're not wearing a skirt
you're wearing a tie, and you've unbuttoned your shirt
your face is quite square, your shorts are revealing
your lips are quite chapped and your skin is pealing

No you are not a woman I believe,
you are but a poor impersonation,
a convincing outfit and look is what you must conceive
to cease my brain's mechanization

Luckily enough, he is but a ***
Living life poorly and craving for plum
the menu item speicial on this very day
is plump plum pudding with custard array

So I paid for a helping just to see him leave and go
So that I may enjoy, a bit of peace and a bit of- NO
THIS CANNOT BE, THERE ARE MORE FROM WHENCE CAME?
A man with a shopping cart? A woman with a cane?

"Just leave already, please! this is far too queer"
I prayed in my mind that they'd all just disappear
But no, there they were, all waiting in line
How many were there? Six? Seven? Nine?

No, they were endless but so goes the tale
Of an Applebee's worker working during an Applebee's sale

This changes everything Capitalism versus climate
(copy written 2014) by Naomi Klein

Though published
more'n a half dozen years ago,
whereby the author
painstakingly details **** sapiens
impact upon planet Earth,
she intelligently describes legacy
lock, stock, and barrel
young people forced
to confront, an alphabet soup
of challenges courtesy motley crew
otherwise ordinary people,
whose penchant to concoct
various and sundry
extraordinary doodads,
seminal thingamajigs, or
visionary whatchamacallits
ushered Industrial Revolution.

Industrialization by hook and/or crook
incredibly, indubitably, ineluctably forsook
agricultural modus operandi - just look
at onset of manufacturing processes
(where population concentrated)
which radically revolutionary
(number 9) mechanization subsequently shook
agrarian paradigm to the very roots
basically, essentially,
and interestingly enough took
away that bucolic,
holistic, and individualistic
coveted and sacred bond
yielding organic crop of tasty morsels
which raw bits (albeit fruitful)
allowed, enabled, and provided
farmer in the dell to cook
powder milk biscuits
courtesy sweat brow
labor yields good eats yum zook.

She (the writer) alludes to activism
years before the voice of Greta Thunberg
affected the young and restless
with the urgent plea for climate change,
yet yours truly (me)
conscientious keeping lively exchange,
when I thoroughly enjoyed
livingsocial amidst grange
where a bartered bride got acquired
during frenzied interchange,

who currently woke
up out of her hours long siesta
while her husband tea zing ideas
to craft reasonable rhyme
did immerse his concentration
housed within
sixty plus shades of gray matter
did figuratively steep and soak
now quietude respite disrupted
snatching precious scarce interludes
of quiescence okey-doke

to distill purposefulness
coaxing and cabling
while cackling wife
causes riddled interruption
reducing mineserious minded intent
as some laughable joke,
nevertheless endeavor enduring
to resume objective and evoke

insight gleaned reading about
how humankind spectacularly
(actually horrifically) rid
oblate spheroid third rock from sun
multitudinous flora and fauna gone
iconoclastic as Butch Cassidy
and Sundance kid
burning fossil fuel
to appease robber barons their ego and id,
no matter toxic pollutants belched at expense
to extract sought after substances hid
deep within bowels of continental crust,
yet recent renaissance
regarding renewable resources amid
youth offer glimmer of optimism
to thwart total mass distinction
comprising every plant and animal.