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a m a n d a Aug 2013
[i would hold onto something if i were you]

so...
just hurtled down
the QEW
120 km/h
for 2 hours
in pieces of metal slapped
together - real close to other
people doing the same
(i find it worrisome that no
one finds this strange)

cuz, you know
i needed some alone time
aha...aha...ha...ha
in my shiny metal tomb
eyes wide in the dark
(you know, trying to avoid
   obstacles and ****?)
music ******* B O O M I N G
  it's not right
until the bass
          sits in my throat
   and i get a shiver up my back
now we're ready to hurtle through space
       deaf to the outside world

in addition,
  i decided to commit 1% brain power
            to drinking coffee
  i don't know, say 3% to navigating
                 2% to wondering why my left eye was
                 ******* hurting
.5% to wondering if I really had roaming turned off
      
at one point,  *99%
  to figuring out why the *mirage looming ahead
       looked like a battleship - my mind racing -
how could this be - the shapes
the lights - i squint - look for water
                   turns out it was a ******* restaurant
with all kinds of lights outlining edges...but it
really ramped up my concern
in terms of reality there
(for a moment)

i've got some
serious mind-racing
word-related issues
as of late
so this little vision quest
on the QEW
i can't even begin to unravel
in a single paltry
word splash

if i try...
to simplify

i'm a little concerned
that the reason of
my being...the nature
of this crybaby,
ambien-mice-feeding
lunatic
(i'll get to that in a sec)
boils down to:

cooked carrots, high school band, art,
Nancy Drew, and
Star Trek the Next Generation

-

uh...about the mouse
believe me
i freak the **** out
if a mouse is running around
in a goddman house
jesus h - it has to go
but
it was decided the mouse
was to be caught
on a sticky mouse trappy trap
with a piece of cheese

i arrived home
to a very alive mouse
very very stuck
in a sickening way...
but problem solved...yes?

oh no, my friend...problem times two
i did not like to see the mouse in this state.
and i sure as hell wasn't gonna
throw it in the garbage like some kind of animal!
(the gross beady eyed little thing...
but the tail is the worst)

i laid down on the floor
and looked at it
and it wanted the ******* cheese.
so i fed it some.
yeah, that's right.
i fed the ******* mouse some ******* cheese

i mean christ, can't the poor
thing have a last meal?
i mean it just happened to
get into my house.

i laid on the kitchen floor a long time...
looking at that mouse,
feeding it cheese.
and then i was trying to think of how
to **** it fast (cuz you know, i **** **** all the time?)
and i couldn't think of anything...
until brilliance behold - i could drug the **** thing!

if i can take a whole ******* ambien,
then surely a mouse cannot
without consequences plenty
so if i crush one up,
with a mortar and pestle,
yeah, that's right...
a mortar and ******* pestle
*******

all i have to do is sprinkle
some ambien on the cheese
and boom
night night
ambien cheese dream

all i'm gonna say is
that things did not go
as planned
ambien face
      mouse
snow
lord of g Jun 2015
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Ken Pepiton Oct 2019
uncommon ways of thinking are more subject to be
friending,
odd ionic quests are  trending---
what is the most noble quest?
like
What good am I, peace and safety wise
be me
as a wild bird might feel safe with you near,
as you quest on, leaning on the lift, rolling in the flow

life lives, ideas find shapes that fit,
moreso than a similar unit of your own mind's
left-behinds

just-in-case

we are commanded, be first
he who treads the grain eats first,
as the grain is tread,
or he stores his treasure in an imaginary vault,

safety deposit rule being if I was in the spirit,
as witnessed by the breath
filtered from gnats, and flushed of flem,
Ah hem, Aachen, is back.
Say he has a silver wedge worth risking the wrath of god,
you ever felt that urge,
to taste,
partake of the growing and harvest and decarbing and steeping
first partaker, the husband man, wombed or un, who labors,
must be, then
be the little red hen who shares the over flow,
--- what is being asked of whom, in this room?
not the filling,
let them be only thy own and not another's with thee
but the flood's free
running, whirling vein to one artery to another
we share the air.

My grandsons all can make that clear, the youngest,
three and one half swirls,
lefty lucy, righty tighty, one way or another
no no no … I'll follow the sun

twist again, like we did last summer, oh the
world swallowed me whole

as if I, not Faustus, I am bond to stand toe to toe
with old Mephisto,
by any other name, I tripped

on my feet I land on my feet Agri-industrial experimental,
oil company loss producer to allow tax credits
maybe useful toward avoiding
hundred and forty acre water
that, ****** if they didn't, we was plantin' trees
the names of those reaped
the fruits of our labor,

I see the rod, of an almond tree…

Ich kenne nicht I hid mein heir under the standing
pillars of right we learn
to live under, standing up right, relative to
who our DNA proves,
close enough for Perry Mason,
in the white of the egg, is there any taste?
it is an acquired taste,
a select strand of ancient as we, as a family,
mito-chondrial DNA,
is this not poetryscumbagthunderword getter
good, we

see the flaw, no flaw at all, a short cut for the trout, see

see the flaw in the flow is a matter of matter it self.
Self it sel, per se, same same logos I heard a meta
knower of something or another,
expert, in the literature of his field.

we seem the fruit of a life examined and found lacking nothing,
each day's evil sufficiency settled to gentle predictable waves,
marked by the red tent in the stories
of when there was so much grass and so much wool

every shepherd was feeding three wives in exchange,
for making life livable as the fate spin us
to true rest remaining for the people of {as we all agree, the idea does exist and is believed, though you may not know or know you do and know this form of reality, me and you bot reading thishit}
God god gods and sub beings with
From out of the culvert, east on 66, see I said then
that's me, I'll see what that man sees

you need not reprove the signs,
shake the dust and wander on samsara, as they say, one way

Child eyes, no fear at all, sees himself, a
strange old men
lurking where he remembers only old drunks,
smell of ****,

once watched a squaw in velvet skirt,
drop a qew outside a white outhouse

these windows persist as windows,
no doors if your ligends don’t match the receptors,

fret not, worst can happen,
but not here, time being as it is, you know, variable

In states of mind I can maintain for longer periods than i…
I take that back,
this is the real binge.
The last round. The words form constant ever after
bubble, **** I guess able to bubbles in milk
bubbles of being being my whole metaphor for life inside this one bubble we can sort of see the edge of…
synchronos compromise signals life change…

Invest in a three year old boy who is on-the-ball-*****-trained,
constant barking trained seal balancing the world,
beneath his feet, gripper stockinged ,
but a way can may be
still slide in the hall is if you put 'em on
grippers on top,
aha
life in a child
loves knowing any thing, for as long as knowing
happens along with everything else,

Like," Grandpa", from this blonde head with adult sized eyes,
seeing me look him in those eyes, signal
eyes touch, he sees his reflexion in the glare on my glasses,

I know, I saw my reflexion in my grandma's glasses,
when I was three, or so.

"Grandpa, stars come in all the colors." They do,
I said. I told my daughter, she shone.

I feel sorta Norman Rockwell, 2019.
I noticed last year, in Oct and November, through the year, voices change.
but smooth as yesteryear morphing to now

— The End —