Laying in the garden of the man who sold me my dreams
I watch as the moon crests over me
I think of all the things I have yet to say
Dear, Night. When did you become today?

Sitting in the dinner listening to that Bright Eyes song
Life seems so short but the days mascaraed as long
So I put down my change and look for a song to play
Dear, Night. When did you become today?

Walking the pavement towards the oranging skies
I watch the sunrise like the lids above your eyes
When you see my worried face, ask if I'm okay
Dear, Night. When did you become today?

how to whistle while washing ***** dishes
The island of we, the sumerians

sixty times the four fingers,
three count point
knuckle one,
knuckle two,
knuckle three, see it counting
to ten in base sixty

humm a little whatifery whistle,
what if, we need more
imaginary units to finish the proof, thus
we instructed
were
we not? Prove all things are not your
imagination,
we are in agreeing mind state, joined
at the bottom most
maximus grave ityness, the force
we must suppose
flipped us off as not a chance,

let it be. Me, my mind, I find, rests
in peace.
with no anger remaining prime motive,
get even,
get back, grow up, settle down, learn
the secret said to be revealed

as reversed veiling, un veil, one of seven,
as the dances were advertised,
hawkers, spy the curious child,
wink, a thought, think kid

seven veils and tied to a cross, with no
malice of fore thought,
this was here, in that hat, I thought was mine,
a mind field, experience, not

commonly taken from the sheet let down,
from the heavens
to the roof of the Khai Vinh fishnet factory
verified center
- glimpse
curious tracker on a water buffalo,
those look like oxen, may-i- those are the sign
sought,
like year of all the oxen out and free,
ball as bulls
give it a twist
imagine
castrata tata tooeee
the pace of evolution without the power
pens I use in my war with power
edgers, bubble
slicers, other wiser geysers, orange
is oranger than any carrot, if you knew orange,
as William and Mary institutes the truth color,
the other people's orangest of naranca
edge lit
ledgends told to begin sending the dancing
muses, as the sun is singing oranging
arranging
so much
so little, this touch, too light, to feel, fffixes the glow

green florescencing bit, you think it down
to scales,
we see. We now beings seeing and sensing below
the frequent measure mental device
we may imagine imaging in our shared timespace
- glaring screen
projected, light, and shadow, sent.
Sentiment, seeing Mayfield, Kentucky, and
knowing
that place was like, like
yes, the ideal Mayberry, USA, as depicted
in the youthful vigor of old Henry Ford, and
the dime guy, what'sisname, famous rich
dime giver, we all marched in his memory,
in the year of our Ford, Rockefeller, right
1954, oh, the allegiance, total troth, all
under god, and the trusts on the money
at the top of the eye,
watching featherweight angel judger try
-yy'alto lift ration, al flow
expo
exponential compounded interesting times,
by golly, it could be organzied
to see, perfectly strange,
as you
b n  -i-    odd number, at the end, I bet.
stand and ask what line is this?
--------------

Some, somewhere, a point, at least
per haps may be made
plain as through nothing,

The birds whistle away
Tweeting favourite lullabies.
The sun has transformed
Oranging,
From her brilliant yellow hue.
She vanished,
Hiding in her room.

The day
Which once posed
In bright neon shades
Of noon,
Has tasted the shadows
Of the moon.

A slice of the moon
Flaunts herself
In the naked, neutral dark skies.
The earth rages queerly.
Vomitting  a warning sign.


My mind dabbles
In its ignorant guessing
As I gaze upon
The uncertain skies.

I feel like a meteor
Might fall to the earth
Tonight.

The lie that lives
is bound in a book or told, vocalized
-ever hear a calf cry in a milk barn
-make that noise
as tale one may make into a metaverse,
- it lacks a name or that name
- is unspeakable, that is the ploy
- say my name

whither idle word awrit or spat, some say
in the beginning,
first dot to mean e, or some sucha thing
a letter
.
let it be knowing, exponentially
growing, stretching edges
pushing press press
up against gravity
itself the core
of all that holds us, here, earthly
as we seem
we heirs of wind and nada mas,
masters of making

mistakes retaken as chances, work look
second glances,
some thing seems
shiny
see'

it moved it chewed abit of the bud
I grew, in that twisted branch that led
to ba'hai, yes,
hai. right.

Fun though, nobody hurt, you know
when its real,
and you forget to breathe.

- good line
- you're mortal now, doitchaself
- faster
- or slower, lighter
- or darker,
darker, oranging a purple mantle
on three wanderers,

parts of the system we are parts of,
actual parts.
functional, working parts, paid
with vicarious thrills, djewnotice, its
colder now,
and darker, yes, I did, notice, there
remain tribal bonds,
some sealed in blood and love, as the
weavers of wondering tales told in days so
old
'tis a wonder, there' any life in these'tall,

gutteral stops'as commas do signal. stop
,'.; signs letter's signal subtilities subtler
than any beast, a we we imagine

we may realize
eventually eats us alive,

Jolishit, that felt so real/

8 seconds. Minimum, you're 10 minutes short.
Your overrode the stats.
What were the odds?