genghis knew two food groups.
red and white, look it up.
Many Genghis genes remaing, tut tut tut,
no error yet, wait
in time the idea, the reason for so simple a sorting
is lost
and food laws arise to insure the purity
of progenity
"man ist vas man eats, nicht nur brot, y'kin, hear-ken"
destined to rule the world in the
here,
after all the others are killed by our wisdom and
dietary rules.
--- toxic masculinity
--- I heard first hand, a hipster-seeming voice tell me
--- Jordan Peterson is the source of the poison
Ah, am I to reply?
Am I to add a layer onto each pearl I feed the swine?
laque of knowing growing pains for what they really are,
we, the people,
blooming, bhering weight, finding worth
feeling ing ing the squeeze,
squeeze,
glory in the pain for gain, gain is good, grow, grow grow
try---umph
ic magi
bent and bowed bansai-wiseman, fed for years mere humble PIE
chanting more enthralled-folk songs
marching
words bubbling to the surface of spaceship earth,
blistering the deserts and the forests with black tar sludge
seeping from the fractures
to form mortar
to re
build the tower... that was Sad'am's idea,
it fell short in shocking offal from the rusting empir-
ical rule of laws of matter,
dis integrating to dust, leaven in the winds...
But every hundred years or so,
some one sees the problem
accused of causing the laquering of peace that seems
to be
beginning
to shine on
the rub,
the itch,
the cause celebre of this warrior mind, this
toxic
masculinity, but in the end
times change, nue and new and aljadid genii arise,
winds converge in great gyres and plan the melting of
the frozen one,
the great gyre in the north, the up-end of the spin,
locked these twelve thousand years
in de-salinated ice,
the salt squeezed from the very molecules of frozen ocean
once free
to spin
counter
clock, lock, lock the POV, see it, see it, see
the direction of the spin,
does it **** or blow?
You could know. Such things are not hidden now,
our simple sort of men have visionary tools,
eyes in the sky,
we look from the moon and see immediately,
there should be six spinners spinning currents
returning, turning turning
as winds return on their circuits on an un flat earth,
as Solomon noted in the sayings of Thoth;
so,
we see the ice, as ***** Gibson said it would be seen,
cybernetic, tic, you, tic, know, tic
what i mean
magi-
confidence in uncom-fort-ible
am-big-yous-is-us-ness
--- it was them ****** cow boys
--- imagined forever afters, based on guns for Christmas
--- appearing areal, Asreal can be, if one stared,
-- starry-eyed, Uriel appears to grant a wish, stare
staring in hope and prayer.
for all a child's prayer is worth
--- long-enough, at the wishbook from monkey ward
--- I'maxin' Please, Ma t'tell Santa I'd wear my guns t' school, Ma, I'd be cool.
hour-wareness of war;s worthlessnesses, winking eye sign;
pure floccinaucipilinihility, winks 'n' nods
manifestations of the imaginings of men,
wombed and un,
for money, not its use, just
luv o'the stuff it's made from in minds so inclined,
which tend to destruction from the mere knowledge
of a missing something, a meaning,
a hole,
a place of nada-zil-chic spells re re re main al and
analible and
allathat, uninalienable mass of meaningful things...
name your God same as mine, shibbol-ethical as allhells-gnownstinki
fini.
eh? Fini? Uno fini, allathestinki? Bad-wind or kami-kazi?
it's a wish,
come true.
this world containing life, an air bubble to pre
vent
our inventions
from drowning in the fields of far-flung, far-fetched
god ideas gone sour,
for lack of a proper fungus. We can fix that now.
From now on,
we can listen to Lex Fridman sing "Simple Man"
from
a bubble remaining inside the lost disco years,
we can listen to Richard Feynman make plain what he meant
about life's locks all having keys in
a bubble remaining viable inside those Leave it to ****** years,
or read, since when in ever writing for ever began
and Google can translate, and
we can read by listening, now, we can read asif blind, and
see
there's more to this than that, why
settle for the simple, when
if
you step beyond, one step,
you find treasure
in truth
kept for you in the heart of your hiding child.
Aitia Macaronic Poet-try mused at a comment I heard in passin I began to imagine a toxic masculinity hiding in a child's closet waiting to take his guns to town, in 1957 the International Geo Physical Year, Hersey was researching The Child Buyer... those were times we got through
