begin end begin he writes come to party in my room ashtray spilled on sheets mirror smeared clothes scattered everywhere i’m reclining on floor pulling on ***** hair writing lonely-hearts poem i don’t care about your photograph i just want to know will you come to party in my room? i have confidences to share secrets to reveal no one to give my body to i need to feel warmth of another there is food if you are hungry i’ll just watch listen to you will come won’t you? please this is no prank are you there? i just wanted to invite you to party you’re my only guest i need you i sound desperate you want to know how long i’ve been this way kind of let myself go grown used to this room that keeps my secret used to sleeping alone in big double bed i think i shall go take hot bath don’t come another night perhaps i can do it quite well myself thank you you probably would have felt out of place anyway - london 1971

nothing wrong with beating off but i prefer female sometimes pretty thing replies Odys you have a way with words actually he prefers woman all times tends to be too impatient rough handling himself needs woman’s gentler slower adoring touch

i wouldn’t mind wife if she is simply **** in residence leaning against doorway posing between me and kitchen he considers let’s get cruel in cruelty one finally realizes one’s own true self-interest who am i? am i cruel enough to be sick-hearted *******? am i capable of oppression torture? do i honestly desire *** slave? do i believe all hope of becoming normal human is gone? he hears her words i have cuffs crop leg spreader flogger hood paddle cane like swelling bruises on my *** never touch my face arms legs i like to be spit on while you pull hair i like servicing man who takes pleasure in giving brutal intense pain *** on my face **** **** on me i'm looking for white muscular egotistic man who is into sadomasochism i enjoy abuse part just as much as *** part is he lightweight no stomach for collared sadism? He mumbles to himself bottom line i respect love women this existence is killing me ignores his thoughts sings aloud we’re used to being rude to each other used to getting crude with each other come on now pretty thing sit next to me

female fantasy number 1 man’s ******* is like handle on slot machine if woman pulls it right way 3 cherries line up in his eyes ***** jingle ring money shoots out ***-hole female fantasy number 2 science invents way in which more money woman spends shopping more weight she can lose

i imagined you were plateful of pancakes you giggled when i poured syrup on your face i smiled pondering how lovely you would taste we sat for a while gazing into each other’s eyes until you got cold rubbery i didn’t want to eat you anymore

maybe he is not so charming anymore maybe Odysseus has become blunt  difficult he tries to be respectful but sometimes he is excessive self-willed time place names have lost any mearing during lively discussion with pretty thing creativity versus craft he confronts original invention requires destruction surely you realize that? pretty thing replies Odys i didn’t realize you were so dominant you seem so playful puppy-like in daytime i never would have guessed you’re such a chauvinistic ******* he questions chauvinistic ******* what’s that suppose to mean? i don’t know what you’re talking about she answers don’t play dumb Odys i know you’re smart at semiotics he asks semiotics what does that mean? I don’t know the word listen you’re right and i’m wrong i apologize i didn’t mean to get so argumentative he reaches for dictionary on floor next to chair pretty thing crosses legs speaks i’m very careful to use simple words everyone can understand but i’m just sign painter isn’t that right Odys? what would i know? he pleads you’re not making any sense we both use brushes paint similar techniques that’s beside the point i apologize she insists you’re way off the subject Odys he begs you’re right i’m wrong whatever i said made you get so upset please forgive me her voice cold terse i need to go home Odys you scare me you’re way too fanatic

thinks to himself promise her anything but give her the finger just when she’s finally starting to fall for whole scam give her the slip 6 to 12 weeks is average life expectancy for modern romance it’s fast world we’re all expendable can’t hear what you’re saying music is too loud rule number 1 no matter how beautiful she is there’s always someone who’s sick of her rule number 2 why would you even be talking with her if she didn’t have *****? rule number 3 they’re all ******* ******! he tries to recall if Bayli ever behaved like ***** he concludes no never did she become one?

in restless sleep he dreams someone tells him Bayli is working at ******* bar he goes to see her Bayli looks young beautiful wearing thong nothing else many men are pursuing her he excitedly approaches but she seems to only vaguely recognize him she questions do i know you? he answers Bayli it’s me Odys! she answers my name is not Bayli Odys who? where do you know me from?” he pleads Bayli, look at me Bayli smiles hesitantly as she looks around for support points finger towards Odysseus 2 bouncers approach shove him against wall force him outside bouncer barks her name is not Bayli now get hell out of here you freaking loser! they go back inside slamming door as he walks away neighborhood kids throw apples at him wakes up confused sad from dream

he vows i don’t need love love is for those too lame to stand alone bear solitude self-avowal love is sign of weakness compliance control love is contract made between two people too spineless to take pleasure in own freedom love is way to take advantage exploit love is convenience pact for mutual security love is cumbersome weight tied around athlete’s neck love is suffering love is a lie illusion cover-up for everyone’s petty lame problems

1984 chicago suffers harsh winter furious winds blow across lakefront Mom and Dad take Odysseus to dinner at posh new restaurant in art galleries district on the way Mom and Dad argue about parking Mom wants to leave car with valet Dad insists they first look for space Mom gets annoyed the wind will ruin my hair drop me and Odys off at door then do what you want Dad says you’re going to miss me when i’m gone Mom snaps we’ll see when are you planning on leaving? Dad wears navy blue blazer white shirt burgundy foulard silk tie he is in good spirits winning personality keeps table lively Mom wears beige cashmere turtleneck darker beige wool skirt brown alligator high heels gold earrings she waves then greets roths weissmans who are led by young hostess they walk past table make brief polite conversation after several rounds of drinks Dad speaks you know, it’s about time Odys are you dating anyone in particular? Odysseus hesitates confesses he has had ****** relations with hundreds of girls his knees begin to shake under table he admits maybe I’m incapable of sustaining intimate relationship with one woman i’m conflicted blocking all these feelings inside never learned how to love can’t hold on to anything all i know how is **** and run Mom interjects don’t use that word! she suggests he travel get some fresh ideas Dad becomes irritated lights cigarette waives to waiter orders another Absolute on the rocks bursts out what the hell do you mean you never learned to love you grew up in a house of love *******! didn’t you learn anything? are you purposely trying to ruin dinner? you watch your step mister or i’ll whack you right here at the table! you make me sick with all your excuses one of these days you’re going to wake up Odys and I hope it’s not too late Mom immediately glances at roth’s weissman’s table then glares sharply at Dad she snaps Max lower your voice! people can hear you we’re in a restaurant can we please change the subject? she instantly regains composure continues i spoke with your sister Penelope today and she let me know she might be landing a new account she’s being wined and dined this evening by c.e.o. of prominent san francisco agency later waiter clears entrees asks if anyone wants after-dinner drink dessert Mom orders coffee apple pie with scoop of vanilla ice cream Dad orders coffee Mom asks what do you wish for in your life Odys? who do you want to be? he exhales long breath answers i used to dream of becoming renown painter but now i’m not sure sad to say don’t know what i want sometimes i think of priesthood but i’ve done too much sinning Dad grows irate who puts these ideas into your head? you ******* ungrateful kid! what the hell is matter with you? Mom interrupts Max don’t lose your temper we’re in a restaurant she glances at roth’s weissman’s table nods with big smile on face Odysseus feels entangled in web of desires deceptions debts he vacillates from one aspiration to next grown comfortable in his failures distrust

We went to the movies and I didn't bring a sweater.
But the night was coldly filled with goosebump raising weather.
There were goosebumps on my skin but I didn't have my sweater.
I thought it would be better if we sat closer together.
You wrapped your arms around me and were my warmth spreader.
You made my heart melt and now I will forever be your debtor.

Listen to the rumor mill.
And watch that rumor spread.
Notice that within that rumor mill.
How things gets mislead?

Instantly they run with the news.
And try to make it truth.
And when you advise the word spreader.
That unless the person spoke in personally.

The rumor should stay quiet.
But you always find some to buy it.
He said, she said seems to stand true.
Unless that rumor is specifically about you.

Then when confronted.
You know the story.
I'm only going by what so and so said?
Don't get mad at me.

These are the people that runs when they should have remained silent.

Now, no one knows how the rumor started.
Cause they were the ones that took the lie a little higher.

At the office.
At school.
At church.
And they should know better.

The room is painted green; a soft green, so subtle that it almost isn’t green. Everything about this room is subtle. As if it isn’t even there. There’s all of the necessary furniture. A dresser, filled with neatly folded jeans and t-shirts and every sock has a match. There’s a small desk, laden with paper and pens and notes and every item we just carelessly toss there because they have no proper place. There’s a bedside table, with a lamp, an alarm clock, a pair of useless reading glasses that neither of us ever need. There’s a bed, a large bed, maybe a queen sized, I’ve never noticed. The room is quite full, but everything is where it should be. There is no tension.

I sit beside the bedroom door. The paint on the frame is starting to chip and I want to peel it off. I want to slowly scrape my fingernails down it, watch it slip to the floor in little white sheets. The same way I want to rip the carpet up from its edges, the sheets of the bed, my skin from my body. Slowly, tantalizing, with great care, leaving a perfectly intact shell, as if nothing has changed and everything has changed all at once.

The seconds tick by, my heartrate leaving them in the dust, while the dust in the room is visible only by the beams of light streaming so cleanly through the gap in the curtain. I don’t dare look at the clock. It’ll only make the time slow further, a dull whisper, unheard beneath my racing thoughts.

My knees are sore and my legs are cramping, there is no draft in the room. I always endeavour to hear footsteps, but it’s just the foundation shifting beneath my tiny, kneeling frame. I think a lot when I’m in this position. I think about the past, avoid the present, and allow myself the briefest glimpse into the time that follows. Everything is calm, all noise is dulled. Cars passing on the street, speeding along to wherever they’re going, a siren in the distance, maybe there’s a bird chirping or a dog barking. They fall upon deaf ears. I allow myself the simple pleasure of relishing in the feeling of air in my lungs. Slowly and serenely, in and out, it’s the only way.

My internal monologue was louder than I thought, it took me by surprise when the door opened and he stood before me. I glanced up, quickly, in shock, before averting my eyes and dropping my chin. Just like that, the atmosphere changed. The room, subtle as ever, fell away from me. The dust molecules, held, suspended in the air by the palpable anticipation that comes with him. I focus on my breathing again and I feel his eyes on the top of my head, down my arms to my skyward palms resting on my thighs. I feel my ******* harden as the heat from his gaze reaches them. My breathing hitches slightly and he inhales so softly I can hear the words before they’ve been spoken.

“Little one.” A chill runs from my neck to the base of my spine. He reaches down to stroke my hair gently, instinctively, I shift towards his hand. He pulls it away, “stay still.” His voice is stern, but not hard, “and breathe.” I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding and shift back into position. He moves past me and I don’t dare to let my eyes follow. I stare at the floor, which is still in fact there, despite how vast this subtle room feels around me.

He removes his tie, his watch, and I hear him deposit them atop the desk. I know these things without seeing them, I know him without seeing him. His presence is a feeling, an electric current I feel run through every strand of hair, every eyelash, every single joint in my body. He approaches me from behind, with purpose he gathers my hair into his hand and fastens an elastic band around it, exposing the sides of my face, the back of my neck, allowing him to see my nervous swallowing and the breaths that hitch in my throat. He pulls my ponytail gently causing my head to tilt back and my eyes to lock on his.

I can feel him reading me, gauging where I am inside my own head. Eye contact restrictions were never a rule I had a problem with, especially with him. I feel almost guilty looking into his eyes; they give nothing away, like two book ends neatly holding everything in place. I can see myself reflected in them, thoughts and emotions fliting rapidly, back and forth; I turn my eyes towards the wall. Seeing nothing reflected back at me in the pale green paint.

“Look at me.” My eyes are back on his before he’s finished speaking. It’s incredible, the control this man has over my body. Like a second nature, just this visceral reaction to comply, to allow him complete control. We remain staring at one another for what feels like hours. His eyes boring into mine is another thing that affects the speed and passage of time, only in an entirely different way. In this place, this moment, every nerve ending in my body is on fire, like becoming paralyzed and injected with adrenaline all at once.

He releases my hair and moves around me, my eyes never leaving his. He crouches in front of me, “how are you feeling, little one?” My insides light up further with his use of my name, “Fine, Sir, thank you.” He strokes my face gently and I make a mental note to stay perfectly still. He stands up and makes his way to the bedside table, opening the drawer he produces a black leather collar. I glance at his back out the corner of my eye, and a pang of nervous excitement courses through me. Standing behind me again, he fastens the collar around my neck, tight enough to remind me that it’s there, and exactly who put it there.
He reaches down, wraps his fingers around it and pulls me to my feet. Dragging me quickly to the bed, he sits himself down and effortlessly pulls me across his lap. I gasp and kick my legs without thinking. The sting across my *** is instant and harsh. I gasp again, “Not a sound until I tell you to. Understand?”

     “Yes, Sir!” I gasp inwardly. His hand makes contact in the exact same spot as before, I cry out before I have the chance to bite my tongue. He pulls me off his lap by my hair so that I’m once again kneeling beside him. He grabs my face tightly with his other hand. “What part of ‘not a sound’ was confusing to you, ****?” I stare at him, keeping my mouth firmly shut, hardly even daring to breathe. “That’s better. Now, do you know why I’m punishing you?” I look down in shame and nod sullenly.

     “Tell me.” His tone is even, this is when he is his most menacing. No anger, no betrayal of any emotion besides purpose.

     “You’re punishing me because I disobeyed you, Sir.” My voice feels small and I can feel the flush in my cheeks.

      “I want specifics, ****. I need to know you understand or else this is pointless.” I breathe in deeply and let out a shaky breathe. “You’re punishing me because I deliberately disobeyed your orders. I went out after work when I was told to come right home. I didn’t call or text or let you know where I was, and I came home well after my curfew.” My voice began to falter, “I’m so, so sorry Sir, I’m sorry I disobeyed, I never should have gone out. It was wrong, and you know best, and I know you only want what’s best for me and it’ll never happen again, I promise Sir, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The words came out in a huge rush and probably would have continued if he had not silenced me with a sharp pull of my hair.

     “That’s enough. All I wanted to hear was if you knew why you were being punished. As you keep demonstrating, you’re not very good at following instructions.” The disapproval is evident in his voice and all I can do is hang my head. “Now, to aptly punish you, I’m going to count your misdemeanours. Firstly, you blatantly disobeyed me by going out after work. Second, you failed to let me know where you were or what you were doing, or at the very least, that you were safe. Third, you came home three hours past your week night curfew. And just now, you failed to follow simple instructions.”

     Disappointment in myself washes over me in waves. I hate letting him down, I know he cares, and wants what’s best for me, and even though it seems unfair, there’s always a reason. I’m cursing my own stubbornness when his voice brings me back to the here and now. “I am going to spank you 40 times, hard; Ten for each instance that you knowingly disobeyed me. Do you understand?”

     I nod my head rapidly, nearly giving myself whiplash trying to prove to him that I can listen, I’m a good listener. He says a soft okay before pulling me back across his lap. He places me across his left knee, using his right leg to hold my legs down, and with his left hand gripping my ponytail tightly, I feel the sting of his hand crashing against my right *** cheek. “What do you say, *****?” He growls at me.

     “One. Thank you, Sir.” I whimper. He hits me hard in the same spot before the words have finished leaving my mouth, I gasp, “Two. Thank you, Sir.” And again, four in quick succession, so quickly I can hardly keep up. I know he’s doing this on purpose. I know because he knows that I’m well attuned to the fact that if I lose count, he starts over.
The blows are merciless, and by number 23, it feels like he’s holding a welding torch to my ***. He’s switching, right and left, right and left, rhythmically striking me over and over.

     “Thirty-two. Thank you, Sir.” “Thirty-three. Thank you, Sir.” I cry out, sputtering the words out in one long breath, “Thirty-Four-Thank-You-Sir.” The last six are the hardest I’ve ever felt, and by the final one the tears are streaming down my face and I’m choking on my own sobs. At this point I can’t even tell which is worse, the sharp pain of his hand on reddened ***, or knowing that I’ve disappointed him and have done so by my own choice. I’m sobbing so hard I can’t even make out my own words. I begin to panic, trying to recall if I thanked him for the last one. His answering smack, though much lighter than the previous ones, confirm my fear.

     “Forty, forty, forty. Thank you Sir, Thank you, forty!” I sputter without thinking. I’m shaking and crying, bent across his knee, my stinging *** settling into a dull, warm, ache.

     Before I have time to take in the respite, he’s flipping me over and pulling me into his arms. Careful of my sore bottom, he holds me close and kisses my temple, “Are you okay, little one?”

     I nod my head quickly before burying it into the crook of his neck. The tears have stopped flowing so freely but the sobs still wrack my shaken frame. He kisses me gently and rubs tiny circles on my back, “Speak to me, I need to hear that you’re okay.” His voice is much softer, tinted with a gentle concern.

     “Yes,” my voice is hoarse and I clear my throat, “yes, I’m okay. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” I begin to cry again. He holds me tighter, nuzzling my hair with his nose and kissing me so softly. “Sh, sh, it’s okay, you did great, and you’re a very good girl.” I look up at him, and am instantly filled with a small sense of pride; pride at hearing those words, at making him happy, and being held, safe and cared for in his arms.

     He leans back slightly and uses his hand to tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes, “you’re sure that you’re okay?” I nod slightly, my eyes no doubt displaying my sincerity, “Yes, Sir, I’m okay, thank you.” He kisses my forehead and instructs me to lie on my stomach on the bed. I do so right away, albeit slowly in my current state. He stands and returns quickly with a bottle of lotion. He climbs on top of me, straddling my legs and uses the lotion to massage my stinging ***. As he does, he asks, “so, what have you learned today, little one?”

     “Forty is a lot higher of a number than I thought?” I can feel him smirking behind me but he gently flicks my bottom in response, Ouch! I cry out softly, and then giggle. “That you always know what’s best and though I may not agree with every rule, I belong to you and what you say, goes, and that I need to be a better listener, and most importantly, communicate.” He can sense my sincerity because he leans down to kiss the back of my head.  

     “Good girl.” The words are murmured into my hair and my skin prickles with goosebumps, I smile into the covers and dig my fingers into it. He notices immediately and grasps both of my hands firmly.  He’s still leaning down over me, his ******* inches away from my still aching ***. Before he can say anything, I’ve closed the distance and rubbed my behind against him. He tenses and I giggle in a very unlike-me way.

     Quickly he has flipped me over, his hands pinning my wrists above my head and his body keeping me firmly in place on the bed. “Oh? You’re a hungry little ****, are you?”

     I squirm beneath him, his words sending tingles through my body, causing me to drip with anticipation. I nod, biting my lip, moaning involuntarily at the thought of him entering me. I feel the heat between my legs, my heartbeat rising, my eyes darting between both of his, which, as usual, gave nothing away. “Please,” I whimper, the begging tone in my voice not lost on either of us.

     Quickly and suddenly he slaps me across the face, I hear the sound before I feel it. I meet his gaze, eyes blazing down at me; I can feel them burning my skin. I squirm again, desperately trying to break free of his hold on me, I need him to touch me, I want to launch myself at him. He slaps me again, harder this time, though it’s just a warning. I stop moving completely, and he gives me a look as if to stay, “stay ******* still.”  

     He’s up and back in the blink of an eye. Before I know what’s happening, he’s flipped me back over and is strapping leather cuffs around both of my wrists, binding them together behind my back. I open my mouth to moan and am silenced by the gag being forced into my mouth. He fastens it tightly behind my head, leaving me immobilized and helpless in a matter of seconds. I squirm, trying to rub my thighs together to offer myself some relief. It feels heavenly for a split second, but as if reading my mind, he grabs my ankles, putting cuffs on both and attaches a spreader bar between them. I have no hope for relieving myself and all I can do is give myself to him, and hope he’s merciful.

     The chuckle that escapes him is dark and sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve decided squirming is useless, and lie there, patiently waiting. I can feel his eyes on my body, hungrily taking in every inch of me; every inch of what belongs to him. “Now this is how I love to see you, worked up, *******, those lustful eyes. I don’t need to hear your voice to know that you’re begging, yearning to be touched.” His fingers lightly make their way up to back of my thigh, dancing, tantalizingly across my ***, and skipping, completely over where I want them. “I love the way your body tenses with anticipation,” I can feel his fingers hovering just over my *****. Not touching, not even thinking about touching. Just resting. “I own you, little one, you’re all mine. All of you.  Mine.” He slaps my ****, “who does this belong to?” I wince and jolt up, “yours, yours, all yours!” I cry through the gag.

     “Good girl,” he whispers gently as he begins to play with my *****, slowly, torturing me. I can feel myself getting wetter as he slides a single finger inside me. We gasp in synchronized time as he feels how wet I am, and I’m finally given something. He works his finger in and out in a torturous rhythm. I try to move my body to speed up his movement but it only results in a sharp smack on my ***.

     “Have patience, little one, I want to have my fun with you.” As I’m about to groan in protest he suddenly slides three fingers inside of me, causing me to cry out before giving into the sensation, giving my muffled thanks between moans. He’s still sliding his fingers in and out as I feel him shift his weight. I hear a zipper and the sound of pants sliding onto the floor. My insides

drumm drumm drummed in two
ranks of
auto-
filers whacking keys and levers and springs
slamming
edged
quantum of scripture
i e o u y vowels of no need-- back in cunieforming time
then came those monkeys with the typesetters
whose keys never got stuck
uno
marko per stroke
five 'undred per bit of etaoinshrdlu
click click cliche'
time measured by degrees in fractual
sym-metry wit' bio me

Tumeric kicks in,
eases the swelling of the bubble.

Imagine the imaginings of a child reading
funny papers
in the privy, smokin' grapevine for no

known reason, or,
maybe it appeased the flies, while I sat
upon the throne
in a tower of my own

wandering through memories of
Terry and the Pirates saving Dalai Lama
from the clutches of
the abomb-in-abled snowman,

Yet-i isis now, the Prince of Persia, once more?

No, this battle is not mine. This
war
was
won;

at that crossroad in Perry's Cafe
when the offer was made: star a footnote here
aster-risks have not been invented... we must reduce opacity.
histoical he refused the deal but  did Write the course
"The Internet in One Day"

work for hire, a good gig, then Netscape went public,

reality validated verification of the efficacy
of Feynman's reversible NAND gates,

the future was super positioned
No taxes, tarriffs or tithes; pay flat
twenty percent
for eighty in return, guaranteed in for by of
we, the people's adaptation to

Paredo's Principle versed in Solomonic Wisdom,
re-de-clearing no non new things
under the sun,
trial by

total emersion in a sea of green sans
yellah submarine,

acid etched re
collectibles dust and debris,
flotsam jetsome wetsome old girls dream

it's now, the future, 2019, and some
of us
survived the seventies in hiding,

we're back.
wee voices you ignore at your peril,

not every inspiration is from for by good.

Some are.
Some words live in the sounds they make,
hocus pocus
abra
cadabra, for instance... is heard by children

as the leaven-less wafer
transmogrifates at
the spoken words Hoc es Corpus

Genutim, non factum
magic
thinking is nothing like

what you thought, child.

The message is believable, the messengers
may
be otherwise. EH? ***-eye-say-- eee- eh?

Self-evidence is acceptible, take a hold,
get agrippa comprehension

sweet-almost
persuasive enough to mask the bitter
ever
after taste of century eggs left in the fridge too long

Biome, bio-me, self-effident-icacious
conch-ious
ness, ac
knowledged... these words lived
once,
the eggish-isms egging us on, go
on, only you...
not me, I'll wait
I've slipped, I've fallen... where's the beef? Was this a common quest?

1972. Sheizbomb, pirate orange sunshine.
1973. We reached escape velocity
1974. Trajectory changed
1975. Lost contact, she's near Cuyguna
1976. Prego
1977. Aha, the reason is born

Future 2019 will seem as real as you may
imagine. I promise,

Ever after, all, as real as you may
imagine. I promise

look, see self evident truth, act asif you know
and understand
angel talk

there remains a rest for the cadabre we inhabit,
"Dancing Queen" "Fernando"
Abba's body of disco hits, missed
by missing one decade and a half,

in sanct-if-ication vacation
to become a hermit when I grew old, if ever,

hoc corpus, eh, as long as faith remains
rememe-r-able post Sini-ification of Suffering,

(the Dragon from the East is not the beast
embodied in the west with golden head,
silver breast, brazen *****, iron legs
and flaking rusting feet of steel
stuck
in sludge ponds and stump ponds and undrained
swamps and sloughs {called wet lands by frogs and ducks})
Ah, so

The golden-green-blue dragons gracing slotmachines,
lure hopers to the slime, not
green Nickleodean slime, real slime from century eggs white
jelly gone dark, dark brown and stinky...

even if i'd tried, I'd never have imagined
eating a century egg
sans chewing, just
gulp
swallow it whole. Din't choke gk kg.

deja vu? no, you missed something.

waiting is being
Dalai Lama, half-scientist, half-otherwise aware
there, in exile,
remains hoping a peace past standing under the
acknowledging of good
and evil,

new mercies on one side, meaculpa, mea
maxima culpa,
on the other.

Who pays? Me or Jesu or the pariah one step
up from a cockroach?
Wait and see. Be still.

Don't ask Mother Teresa, she had no clue.
But she finished what she began,
that was her plan,

skip as much purgatory as abody can stand
imagining worth it all.

Me, says the hermit,
I took the grace Noah found. Wait and see. Get ready.

Google translate the Latin Mass, then imagine it
being a message you must hearken to

drum drumm drummmed into your brain before
your prefrontal
cortextual tester circuits formed and your responses

were ever etched
on the tables of your faith belivin' childheart,
sweetheart,

just think, what if good news gathering is
even-jelly-if I can. Evangelical, if I say-tion sugar pi,
event-tually we see, fine,
details, points to every true story

a bed of nails no liar may rest upon

'fi say so, semper fi.

{evangelicum laude graduates bher no bad news in ever}
--phi beta kappa, key that opens what?-- do you know

what meaning signals breathe? beat?

Take great gulping gasps of air,
affording your self
evident right

to surface, as a bubble you can breathe in.
I think we're alone now

there doesn't seem to be any one around, now

1977, that was four whole decades ago?

Right. And whenever you are, dear reader, this was
ever ago. I testify, I examined this life.

It has been worth the effort. Now I wait. Still.
Try it. Here, there,

no condemnation, the act it self just
is null-ift before asif goes whatif and we lose our value,

we balance madness. We work closely with Cleo,
she handles historical re visioning.

time out-- essential term screams for discretion, get to the grain---
What noise is this... mmmmm
Muse- muse- just, muse like
music, drummm drummm hummmmm
Define, fine, granularity, like salt or sand or sugar
but qualia
mysterium familiarus

Term definition. Lord means h'laf weardan, {Welsh}
warden,
protector of our bread,
by which man does not live alone,
owner of the tower in the vinyard where your captive enemies
languish in your wishless hate.

We wait,

we companions be, joined by the leaven from the sky

leaving footprints in granulated sugar salted sand,
feel it,

sorta sticky, like toe-jam. like mebbe toejam spreader
and the Walrus was
CS Lewis level mere signposts at degrees of little thinker
steps tick tic tic
spiraling
clock wise from up,
counter-clockwise from down

forward, ever onward, off is impossible in the land of on,
here for ever is
too much good stuff,

but that lasts (to the same level of qualia judgment degree)
mere mortal moments

flash. Here we be, wondering and wandering, to an fro,
to get a feel,

for real. This can't go on for ever, they say.
Shall we see, I say... as I passed away.
Life goes on, and no lie follows

Listen,
it's finished, that's all we need say. Live on. Be good,
or die trying. No lying about anything.

What if ever did begin and you simply failed to be aware?

.                                              for V. &c.                                    .

Love is love, because it needs to be satisfied,
you need to be united. Desire; love, feelings,
daily treatment problems... / Cardinal death,
love, love, do you love it? I love you. I love you.
What do you know about my love, happiness,
happiness, happiness and planning? Data is safe,
but warm, warm, warm, warm, warm, warm,
warm, warm, warm, warm, warm. But don't
love blindly, devoutly approach the pilgrimage
of faith, approve, praise others with your voice,
that others may find the content of this idea.
If you like this spirit of despair and honor,
the war in your country will be different.
This disease is love and a love which is a payment
that the family has already paid and their vows provide
ideas for therapeutic drugs and a spirit of happiness
and assurance. I am afraid of the fear of depression and
pain, the beginning of the crown, I will not say
that he will help eat my sacrifice, or distribute
the drugs. Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love
1:1 You have no greater happiness than love,
you have the benefits of love. Blessings and happiness,
happiness, happiness, happiness, harmony and love.
I see things. Desire doesn't look like you. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I am the leader of love,
love, and love. Accommodations: clothing, psychiatry,
clothes and shelter, high temperature and the high fever
of a clothesline / clothes. Do you pray with strong
light to absorb the heat of summer?Love is love,
it wants to please God, so you must love unity as well.
love; everyday feelings of love, love, emotions,
emotions ... / heart death, spirit of disease, faith,
love, love, I love you? I love you; I love you;
For love, happiness, happiness, happiness, and the plan
says what do you do / server package out of my knowledge?
The data is safe, but warm is warm, hot, hot, warm,
warm, warm, warm, warm, warm, warm of fast
and healthy. But it is not blind the way prayer can be,
to be promoted to the pilgrimage of faith, to advance,
to be praised by others or to the voice, or the other
to refer to the content of this proposition.
And the heat of war in his country would be different
if we loved a torturer of this Spirit and his honor rising.
This disease is love and love is the flow of circulation
through families and its vows of alcohol provides
a crystalline form of medical needs and a spirit of joy
and friendliness. I will not fear of pain or punishment,
how the crown has started and explained that it would
help me to take care of my sacrifice to be distributing
the medicine, nor is it anything else in them. Love, love,
love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, worry that
you do not feel as much as on the day of the day.
1:1 You are above all the love of great excitement
and not of love, but good luck. Prosperity and happiness,
happiness, joy, happiness, harmony, love. sees things.
Love does not love him. I love you; I love you;
I love you; I love you; I am the leader of love, love, love.
Heat and high fever for bed, dress, emotional shelter,
clothes and shelter, clothes / lines everyday.
Prayer assemblies with a difficult fire to heat a different
amount of heat in the summer? Love is love,
because you want to be satisfied, you need to be united.
Desire; love, feelings, daily healing problems ... /
Cardinal death, love, love, do you love it? I love you.
I love you. What do you do in my knowledge for love,
happiness, happiness, happiness, and plan? The data is safe,
but warm, warm, warm, warm, warm, warm, warm,
warm, warm, warm, warm. Be not blind in your prayerful
approach to the pilgrimage of faith, improvement,
praise of others and others voices, others may find the content
of this idea. And if you like this spirit of despair
and your honor, the war of war in your country
will be different. This disease is love and love,
it is a payment that has been shed by a family,
that the oath provides the idea of ​​healing medicines
and a happy spirit and assurance.
I fear fear of depression, suffering, beginning
of the crown and I do not say that he will help
to eat my sacrifice to distribute the medicine.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love,
love 1:1 You do not have the greatest pleasure
and love of all, you have the love of the benefits.
Blessings and happiness, happiness, happiness,
happiness, harmony, love. I look at things. Desire
does not like you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I love you. I am the leader of love, love, love.
Accommodations, wedding dress, psychiatry,
clothing and shelter, heat and high fever for clothes
/ clothes. Do you pray with a hard light to absorb
the heat of summer? Love is love, he only wants to please
God, so you must love and unity. love; daily feelings of love,
love, emotions, feelings ... / heart death, disease spirit,
faith, love, love you; I love you; I love you; I love you;
To love, happiness, happiness, happiness,
and the plan says what are you doing / server package
on my knowledge? The data is safe, but hot is hot, hot,
hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot heat by the fast
and healthy. It is not, however, the blind, the manners
of prayer can be, advanced in her pilgrimage of faith,
went forth, is praised by others, or by Voice, or the other
is to the content of this proposal. And the heat of war
on his country would be different if we love one
torturer of this Spirit and the price of it is increasing;
This disease is love, and love is the flow of traffic
through families and vows of alcohol provides
a crystalline form of medical needs and spirit
of cheerful and friendly. I will put out the fear
of the fear of pain, of punishment, the manner
of Earl began and explained to her to help take care
of my sacrifice might be to distribute the remedy,
nor is anything else in them. Love, love, love, love,
love, love, love, love, worry that you do not experience
as much as in the day of 1:1 You are over all things,
the love of the great enthusiasm, and not from love,
but good luck. Prosperity and happiness, happiness,
joy, happiness, harmony, love; he sees the things;
Love is not love him; I love you; I love you; I love you;
I love you; I am the leader of love, you love, you love.
Heat and high fever for the bed, dress, emotional shelter,
clothing and shelter, clothing / lines every day;
Prayer assembly with a difficult fire to heat a different
amount of heat in the summer? Definitions of heat noun
the quality of being hot; high temperature. it is sensitive
to both heat and cold synonyms: warmth, hotness,
warmness, high temperature, hot weather, warm
weather, sultriness, mugginess, humidity, heat wave,
'hot spell intensity of feeling, especially of anger or excitement.
words few men would dare use to another, even in the heat
of anger synonyms: passion, intensity, vehemence, warmth,
fervor, fervency, enthusiasm, excitement, agitation, anger,
fury verb make or become hot or warm. the room faces north
and is difficult to heat synonyms: warm, warm up, heat up,
make hot, make warm, reheat, cook, microwave, nuke,
zap; become hot, become warm, get hotter, get warmer,
increase in temperature' Translations of heat noun calor
HEAT, warmth, ardor, glow, summer, fever aestus tide,
HEAT, surge, agitation, flaring heat, glow ardor ardor,
HEAT, eagerness, flame, glow, burning fire fervor HEAT,
glow, passion, ardor, seething, commotion flamma flame,
HEAT, blaze, Fire, passion, Love;
cancer, crab, HEAT, claw, Nipper, south incendium
burning, conflagration, fervor, HEAT, Fire, arson
incaendium wildfire, HEAT, conflagration, burning,
arson, firebrand incoendium swelter, HEAT, wildfire,
conflagration, burning, arson vapor vapor, HEAT,
steam, smoke, warmth, vapour vapos vapor, HEAT,
steam, smoke, warmth, vapour ignis Fire, light, HEAT,
flame, conflagration, beacon libido lust, libido, whimsy,
desire, WHIM, HEAT lubido lust, WHIM, HEAT, desire,
caprice, libido missus cast, sending, HEAT, shot,
throwing, hurling motiuncula HEAT, cauma caldor HEAT,
warmth cauma HEAT verb calefacio warm, heat, melt,
thaw, excite, anger calfacio warm, heat, melt, thaw, excite,
anger concalefacio warm, warm thoroughly, heat, calefy
concalfacio warm, heat, warm thoroughly, calefy incalfacio
warm, heat incalefacio warm, heat fervefacio
simmer, heat, boil, melt suffervefacio warm, hot, heat
subfervefacio warm, hot, heat tepefacio warm, heat
suffio incense, burn, fumigate, besmoke, perfume, sear
subfio incense, fumigate, besmoke, perfume, burn, sear
vaporo vapor, heat, steam, warm, smoke, vapour calefacto
thaw, heat, warm, melt calfacto warm, heat, melt, thaw
calesco warm, grow warm, heat, warm up, grow hot,
become hot incalesco warm, heat, catch fire, passion
concalesco heat, warm, become warm, become thoroughly
warm, glow, flush accendo inflame, kindle, light, fan,
ignite, fire incendo burn, kindle, fire, inflame, ignite,
light incaendo incense, light, light up, burn, fire, ignify
incoendo incense, light, light up, burn, fire, ignify incandesco
whiten, incandesce, fire, heat intepesco warm,
heat infervesco boil, warm, heat percoquom bake,
heat, ripen, scorch, blacken exuro burn up, consume,
burn down, burn out, burn to ashes, set on fire calficio
make warm, heat, excite, Rouse, vex, trouble Love is the first fish.
1: 1 is not true, but the truth. Some time after application.
(Category). Today (average) in London (a) white wine or red wine
(for example, people's health) (the "brain").
They say the colors of colors and curiously colors
[2] gardens, along with other food and bacteria. |||| ||||
1. I am £ 13,000. Research (room) and image (4)
provided by local police. || However, it is fine, it is easy to find. 1. Genetewiwi yešenišikitine French colors and later years.
Los Angeles, New Loreši, New Holy Roman Emperor
Julian the Emperor sixth program in Russia and found
"two" trainingbefichēšikorochi
French philosopher and shoes in Europe.
For as you have drunk the water,
it is in itself, is slow to anger, and of great kindness,
and he came and dwelt in his own house, is it?
I have been using very good technology,
but in the book that he wanted to say that peace,
coffee and Canada by the Canadian past history.
In the morning, a dentist's city, the historical yeshife.
Every week the children.
Yiha Jacob, and "women (and others playing in the text)
are the lowest in London and" Islam is "to help as soon
as possible through war," of the sort "to tell the truth,
in fact, compete (12) for the musicians everywhere
the ability to game for a long time,
doctors colors Skoseg one of the major
French 6 visitors in this way is that it is a horse different.
In king Julian 15, and the protection of the peace movement,
France, France created the crew of "God and Christ
in the form of a glass  or medical bir ' archet'ene gigabytes,
one of the two or glass
yešišileše ouoiav glasses. German Gomel called out to me
and said: "I am members of the Federation" .Love first fish.
Love is the first fish. 1: 1 and he true.After ESQ.
Information (section). On the right is used
(among other things) allows girls (among others)
the end of the season to sign T (a) does not include /
encapsulate the red as a group of wines from the wine
region of London, said. Different colors and skin colors
The terms [2] Extinktorium in the gardens
of broken blood vessels to the paths of salvation
There are in good health. |||| |||| 1 1. I am a thief
of 13,000 pounds. Prescribed by the case (local)
products graphic (4) to local officials. || Sometimes
it's easy. And all the words are good. 1. In the Sanskrit
and six years the colors in the garden with the French
in the sky? Because of two men is the same
as the art of Tele-N. clear the air Los Angeles
And his mother, the queen, and of Julian the throne
had six of the first poets of the French, the Russian
and the European side in the summer, a lot of Falakarokrax at home;
1 to begin to ask: What do we do after drinking port
poverty at home? I pierced
Pedicures ME COME you are noble;
And as far as the gates of the connecting points,
do not need to us and a cloud without a book
in peace; She began to remember the words
of our ancestors, Gliding away, from the top,
in the crag of the rock that is, in so far
as he perceives himself to be a wall,
mountain and young people in Canada
These machines november
There will be a father reading
about Bettie's in the books of history;
New member is a dentist in Germany ...
And the Guy came to the convent in a tunic
of his hour was come which is not only
the way they are given to the twelve,
The Golem in Europe, "1, the column began
to love fight.True in the first, true, true, true,
true is returned The Esq.Test (section)
is a condition that girls (Among others)
Perth (among others) to the end each cone T (a)
does not include / Glory side If the color
is the wine to drink in London say the skin,
they do not differ in the garden and I am your God
and I have parks and blood came out of the health ||
standing [2] The four extinctorium skin. |||||||
The thieves 1,000,13 8 grams (12) that produce
1 and crops, is the host of a fisherman, that is.
The Gauls, Sanskritian of colors In the six
hundredth in the garden, in the sky: Technically,
in the same Tele- For two Angels plan
The spirit is ordinarily the Emperor Juliana,
Queen certain French Europe developments
Wide 15 of life, the song of the Russian
And peaceful option open
That's vorite sun "and one of the ones healing
football, or the middle of the crystal;
THOMAS come about Glasscrax
"The lives and told the council:
The condition is the big mouth of Arty Spreader
"MECOME not at work
he began to teach his ancients mention
is the access to the EP and in Canada free
in the mountains; timber mid-January. Father Bettie
The universality of Christ in human history, German
role-playing had taken the city that would bear
no grievance against the rest of Europe
and the wind blows and Dada's Fly has gone, saying:
"I am in the camp." Love is the first fish. 1: 1 = You.
Love ...

Love is love. Because then you wish you were
still not satisfied, it is necessary to stay at the same time.
relationship; Like in doubt for peace, for the day ... /
mate, death, love, love it! I love you. I love you.
What do you know about love, happiness, prosperity
and planning? Data is not safe to be so hot.
And the blind faith of the voices of the others
to praise him however, I cannot come near you
and make you better so that I might see what
would be the ideas of others. Pain honors his country
to change. Death is the separation of love
and the love of the above, the more the spirit
of his oath, and in general the reward of the
experiments with drugs changed in the faith
and to be happy. [Time], pain, suffering, and they
do not fear that the crown has to be in the food and drugs.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love is not a good:
1: 1 oppose each other. You will get a good love.
The benefits of happiness and love. But what did you see?
You do not want to see. I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I am a teacher of love
and affection. Instead, dress, food, clothing, mental flow,
height and tall clothing. I want you to commit
to the hot summer.

Yale’s friday “spring fling” was a soggy success - both as a concert and super spreader event. My groove-spirit was dampened by weather and a final I had the next morning.

I pose here tonight, in the chill residential courtyard, on my green sport-brella beach chair, like Canova’s Pauline Borghese, relaxed, canned *****-martini in hand, still untouched by the covid menace - as if I’d taken sagacious care in avoiding it.

The waxing crescent moon is strutting its familiar runway, like a vague, ambient night-light, but what should we expect for free? Maybe it’s saving itself for warm, clear summer skies.

I can relax tonight and binge on the moon because the school year is over (for me).

I’d been in a coffee-fueled study-trench for over a week, finishing my last assignment paper with my last gasp of academic energy. It illustrated what could be crafted in a vacuum void of originality. I filled it with ideas, gathered like runoff-water, from deeper sources and tailored the paragraphs with care, weaving by sleight, the 3D illusions of depth, breadth and substance. It was very well received. taking a bow

I love the feeling of being done with finals but still living on campus. It’s casual, adult and relaxed - close to life as I dreamed it as a kid.

My room is disassembled and I’m living out of my suitcase. Movers will come and cart off our stuff Monday. Leong and I will head south - like wrong way birds. I hate goodbyes but knowing these are temporary helps. Most of my summer will be like one continuous sleepover.

Happy Mother's Day!

No one asked the glaciers
Did they like de-freeze?
Who had that much warmth left?

When was it when someone asked the oceans
How their  thirst was quenched ?
Or how they managed to gasp
As layers of greasy filth floated over their breathing pores .
The rivers  that flew to them were already dammed :
The little ants are never inquired of their tiny aching backs
Stiffened and sore.

The winds were voted popularly
As spreader of venom
And they did not know why?

From the bosoms of earth
Is ****** all verve out
In name of maternal obligations.

The Indus stained in the blood
Wails violently amidst deep gorges
For relentless rapes occurring over her watery soul
We call power stations.

Love is the first fish. 1: 1, but in fact it's true, it's true.
After returning Esq. Information (section). The law
we will be using (amongst other things) allows girls (among others)
at the end of time's T cone (a) not to include / encapsulate
the group that is red wine and white wine in the London region;
We both had it. The color of the skin color differs
from the words [2] Extinktorium in the gardens
of broken blood vessels and the paths of salvation
and good health. |||| |||| 1 1. I'm a thief of 13,000 grams.
From the pathology provided by the (local) graphic products
(4) to local officials. || Sometimes it's easy.
And all the words are good. 1. In Sanskrit and six years
of French colors in the garden when I go to heaven?
For the tele-peer technique named for the two men,
it can be cleared in N. Los Angeles where the air
is breathable and the summer home of Emperor Julian the Queen of Russia; The development of six children in Europe was not one of the French poets Falakarokrax; 1 for holiday begins to ask: what do we do for poverty after drinking port at home? from me are pierced
with the noble art of pedicure MECOME:
the doors do not need connecting points
and the smoke outside the book is all in peace
and I started to remember the words of our ancestors,
aware of the wall descending from the cliff top
of the mountain and the young people of Canada,
the child this November, and machines
that would be able to father his father,
Bettie is from the books of history;
the new Member is a dentist in Germany,
but the guy with his coat hour after the meeting,
soon became without twelve who did not have a gift of senses;
and Golem in Europe "1, which began to train love
in her first fight.True, true, true, true, true After returning
the Esq.Test (section) is a condition that girls
(among others) Perth (among others) at the end
of each cone T (a) do not include / Ka in the side
chamber in London and wine, the wine is if the color
of the skin does not differ from yours, I made gardens
and parks and its blood can be for salvation Blitz [2]
Extinctorium Blitz on the skin sent quarterly. |||||||
thieves grams 1,000,13 and 8 (12) that produce
that is the guest Fisherman is well established 1.
This year, six French Sanskritian colors were gathered
in the garden, in the sky, Technically, Tele-peer
was for people on both sides, Nordic angels,
and what is the spirit, Empress Juliana,
Queen of the French gender of Europe with Russian developments,
will sing up to the 15th Russian soul
and with the desire to be open and peaceful,
but also in "Fa Vorite" , and one of the medical ones
crystal glass instruments, or football,
Ge Barley Glasscrax does not bring Thomas
into the speech that cidero pronounces within the company;
The condition of the large mouth of Arty Spreader
"MECOME", because there is no need to be a mistress
of the EP, and I began to mention access to the elders
in the mountains and children in Canada in the mountains,
trees and mid-January. Bettie and the father
of one's own person were a story of Christ, French, German,
and not a serious role-playing group that makes
Dada and Golem wind up in Europe, saying, "I am in a camp."
Love is the first fish. 1: 1, but true in reality, that's true.
Information after coming back. (Section). The law
which we use (in between) allows girls (in the middle of others)
at the end (a) a red wine in London's area and a white wine.
We both talked The color of the color is different
from the coloring [2] in the gardens and the nutrients
and the good health routes. |||| |||| 1. I am a thief
in the amount of 13,000 grams. Research (local)
and graphic products (4) are provided by local officials.
|| Sometimes it is not easy And all the words are good.
1. After six years of French colors in Sanskrit in the garden
when I went to paradise. The name of two men
is named as a "man" for a talented footwear,
it can be cleaned into the NNA Los Angeles,
where the air flows and in summer, Russia's death
in the Emperor Juliana's house; the sixth developmental
development of the French Focararrox in Europe
Not one of the poets; Asked a question:
What do we do with poverty after drinking at home?
I created me a great and technical article:
Do not have to talk with the door,
and the books of the book are in peace,
and I started to remember the words of my ancestors,
Know Horia and the young peak from Canada.
Early people, machines who come from father-in-law
historical books, have a dentist in Germany,
but in the meeting, the people of Richmond
would not have been children sooner than weekly kids.
And in Goallum in Europe "1, who began to train
his first war, after truth, truth, truth, truth and Isaac (as)
returned, the condition is that the girls (among others)
The final part of the universe is not included
in side chambers in London and wine, wine is that
the brightness is not different from you,
I created gardens and parks and to save its blood. [2]
Thieves are sent to the thieves. Thousands of birds,
13 and 8 (12) are included in chamber, creating a guest,
Rabbi is a formed position. This year, six colors
of French censorship have been made in heaven.
The telephone was for the people of both sexes.
Horses angels and What is the soul, Emperor Julian,
Russians rope in the 15th Century Spirit of Europe,
with Russian development, and it should be peaceful
and peaceful, Ferrara Violet "and one of the medical
instruments, the Crystal Glass Glass or G Glasses
Gala S. Ecaraxs may not have been declared
as an episode in E-society; Artic's long-distance
state "McMom", because you are not a property of AP,
and between the mountains, mountains and mountains
in Canada's mountains and mountains. Started accessing the elderly. . .
Beat and his father is not a single group of Christians,
French, German, who plays a role, which tells Dada and Golem
not to gambol in Europe, "I'm in the field."Love is the first fish.
1: 1, but the real truth is true. After coming back information.
(Category). At the present time (between) allows girls (other media)
at the end of (a) red wine and white wine in the London area.
We talked about both the color and the color of different
colors [2] In the gardens and other nutrients, and good health routes. |||| ||||
1. I am a thief in the amount of 13,000 pounds. Research (local)
and graphic products (4) are provided by local officials.
|| But now it is not easy for all of the good. 1. After six years
in the Sanskrit and French color in the garden
when the Paradise. In the name of the two men
named as a "person" for their genius in women's shoes,
cannot be DNA in Los Angeles, where air flows
in the summer toil in Russia Emperor Julian's death house,
and the sixth development of progress with the French poet,
not Focararrox in Europe; The questioner asked:
What do we do after drinking poverty at home?
I have also created a large technical article,
but do not tell the door and peace in a book about books,
and I began to remember the words of my ancestors
know Horia young people and point from Canada.
In the morning the people who have come out of machines
and the father-in-law of the historical books,
such as a dentist in Germany, but in the community,
is that it was not them that are born of the people
of Richmond, than a weekly with the kids.
The GOAL in Europe, "1 who began
to train in the first war with the truth,
the truth, the truth, the truth, Isaac (as) returned,
the condition is that the girls (among others),
and the last part of the universe is not confined
to the lowest upstairs in London and wine
and the wine so that the brightness is not different from you,
and created gardens and parks and take his blood.
[2] will attack the thieves. Thousands of birds, 13 and 8 (12)
are included in the chamber and every little chamber
was the place of birth, as a guest, of the Rabbi,
a shaped place. This year, the six colors shining
forth from the Gallic and the censorship and the battles
have been incited within heaven. of mobile phones
is to the people, with the consent of the parties.
of the horse to the angels, and what the soul, of the
emperor Julian, Russians a cord through the Spirit
of 15th Extra development century Europe, is also peaceful
and peaceful, Ferrara blue "and one of the Emperor medical,
glass or crystal glasses G St. distance Gala had declared
that they would not be Ecaraxse results of the company;
Whether you are long distance "mindful" of your property
because it is not apparent among the mountains mountains
of Canada. Initial accessing the elderly. . . Father and beat
one of a group of Christians French, German which plays a role,
which tells Dada and Golem in Europe, "I'm in the field."
Love is the first fish. 1: 1 is not true, true, true.
After the information is entered. (Category).
Currently (middle) in London (a) white wine or red wine
at the end (ie, diners) (the "cells"). They say the colors
of the colors and the colors [2] gardens, and other foods
and health lines. |||| |||| 1. I am £ 13,000. Research (local)
and graphic products (4) are provided by local authorities.
|| Now everything that is good, is not easy to find.
1. genetewiwi yešenišikitine French color holder
and six years later. Los Angeles, New loreši, yerušiyewiyeni
Roman Emperor Julian the Emperor of Russia
and sixth development was found "two" training shoes,
not the French philosopher Befichēšikorochi in Europe.
What shall we do a lot of drinking, poverty, and the at home?
I had very good technology, but in the books,
and I was reminded over coffee to talk about peace,
and Canada, a former Canadian of words. In the morning,
the German dentist in the city, such yeshife history books:
Each week for children. "Islam," helps to also be consulted
as soon as the war is a "goal" in the true, true, true sense,
reports Isaac, Jacob, "The women (and other) universities
were at the lowest level in London and wail (12) all are
chambers of the singers in the inner chamber,
in the game so long a time, in which a rabbi,
a part of the guests there are six colors, just as the Gaelic
and thus may be more distinct. Danish literature in Paris
in the name of the French horse, it is, and the king
of the Julians in the 15th peace are nonviolent
against the system, the French set the horsemen
in the name of the French horse's name
"Li king" and medicine, or glass light Krister
Tek'oreret'ene economic consequences in the form
of medical gigabytes, is one of either glass
or glass yešišileše. I, Golem Legiluli in Germany ||
                                                              ­   to German-speaking groups speak:
                                                                ­           "I am the Federation!"

i think by nature i'm a gasoline-pourer -
    i don't strike the match but
  goodamn it, do i set up that fire.

i am. i'm a gasoline-pourer and a poison-spreader
and i destroy fragile things.
i'm a gasoline-pourer and i'm afraid
      we might be the kindling.

Before corona, nursing homes residents were being killed,
naked elderly lying in hallways unattended to for hours,
staff watching as resident says they will get out of bed,
can't and does anyway only to fall straight to the floor,
medications being placed on the floor before being put into
resident pill caddy dispensers, medications being put into
resident drinks then those drinks given to other patients,
food trays delivered on he laps of residents, so staff can do
two things at once, for other residents, food trays dispensed
from a few inches off the ground food tray carriers so
pestilence must get into food, staff continually not doing
their jobs or abusing, lying about residents in any way they
can think of, medical staff purposely lying to and not
treating residents, on and on, residents not being allowed to
see outside doctors in order to actually get treated, staff
physically abusing residents during medical treatments as
retaliation for complaining, medical treatments and drugs
ordered by doctors not administered.  For the N.H. makes
most it's $ on intake and when the resident leaves, so staff's
job, to **** them as quickly as possible to increase turnover.

So covid's also a cover-up of that.  Like before pandemic,
Nursing Home residents, and now staff, are genocided,
42 % of all virus fatalities occur there.  This is also a
Hitlerian eugenics program.  Also healthcare facilities, meat,
poultry packing plants, prisons, densely packed businesses,
are concentration camps, workers are forced to work, catch
covid, give it to others, die, our schools are the same now,
genocide of kids and staff, all for ****'s re-election effort.
For, still, the purposeful non-use of the DPA by **** of
Utin, not nationalizing the manufacture, distribution of PPEs,
good testing, which would save taxpayers 100's of billions of
dollars overspent now on gouged prices, 100's of thousands
of their lives, continues, as he preaches his 'covid schmovid'
policies at his super-spreader of disease rallies, murdering
repubs.  Yet, again, ****'s Admin. is trying to steal food
from the mouths of babes and give it to billionaires, cutting
food-stamps, S.S., giving handouts to wealthy.  Now, Utin's
****, head of the republican bi-polar global conspiracy of
unpowers that unbe, is paying Utin, head of the totalitarian
conspiracy and the global oligarchy, with Russia's inclusion

in the G7, etc., for Utin's paying bounties to Taliban to ****
our military.  Grandpa, dad, brother, son, all military except
me, a military family, can't believe ****'s such a traitor,
instead of a Commander-In-Chief.  Every minute another
citizen perishes from pandemic needlessly, why? Why in this
land of American dreaming, where we put men on the moon,
have Space Forces, are we not able to mass-manufacture,
distribute masks and to accurate testing to limit the spread
of virus?  How can our businessmen, politicians not solve
this now?  "...We(e),...", can't beg, must we in 2020?  Also,
the 'Bob Woodward interviews' with **** prove he knew
about how serious covid-19 would be in 2-20, and said the
opposite to staff, country. He calls our military "suckers",
"losers", he called John McCain "not a hero".  Recent reports
by our intelligence community, FBI, reveal that Heir Mueller
should've declared that the **** international crime family
"had colluded in the Russian conspiracy to steal the election
of 2016 for him", that, "Heir Mueller failed to follow the $
trail of ****'s, which would have proven him and his crime
family did many more crimes than were investigated", that

"Russia's doing the same, and will worse, now, during the
rest of the election cycle and the **** Admin. is not just
doing nothing to stop Russia, they're actually aiding the
hacking of this election".  His niece, Mary Trump has stated
that, "all of what the public knows about him and his
failings is accurate, and he's even much worse".  He's been
keeping security, other Gov't staff at his hotels for months
straight, even when he's not there at the cost of 100's of
millions of your tax dollars.  More victims of his **** and
****** assault history are coming forward to report those
crimes against them.  He invited the Taliban to have a Gov't
Summit at Camp David right before the 18 th anniversary of
the attacks on 9-11-01, that were purposely not prevented by
king george and his ****, cheney, like **** purposely didn't
prevent the corona virus from becoming a pandemic here, it
was canceled by his staff at the last minute.  He just said,
upon hearing we've over 200,000 dead from covid, and over
6 million cases, that, "we should test less, then we'd have
less cases, we're doing fine, the end of corona's just around
the corner.", while he effectively does little to less.

Now, the deaths top 230,000 and over 7 million cases, we've
4 % of the world's population, yet, 25 % of virus cases, why?
**** just told the country a week ago, he "may not accept
the outcome of our elections in a month, 'cause mail in ballots
are a scam, if he losses, election was rigged by democrats".
His admin. are already talking to States where republicans
control the State Legislature and can choose to dispense with
the popular vote by replacing it with a set of electors they've
chosen in advance, and will say "they represent the will of
the people, instead of the elections results".  He also has
threatened that "there will be violence in the streets if he
doesn't win", etc..  The candidates for President just had their
first debate, a one ring circus, made so by the carnival barker,
****.  He refused to follow rules, continually interrupted
Biden, pathologically lied as usual.  'Time is longer than twine',
and 'to err is human, to forgive, divine'.  It's unforgiveable,
n'er forgettable.  Joe's not only persisting in reminding our
nation who "..we(e),.." are and can be, also that we're citizens
of a great Union. Inspiring, Biden's campaign rises, uplifts.
We all can, must stop this madness now, vote early, GOTV.

To understate,
You are a seed,
The beginning of a tree.

You will grow and you will blossom,
And you will bear fruit and leaves.

So what am I.

The picker of fruit?
Spreader of pollen?
Maybe a tree, a bush?

You can,
And will
Exist without me.

This is an understatement.

Rather, you are a red giant,
A star ready to blow, expand.

Supernova.

Space-dust.
The elements for life.

First is the one who points out their evil ways
The second will speak for us, shouting the obscenities that show how we feel
Third is the lover, the one who reminds us that they are still humans deserving just treatment
The fourth is the spreader of truth, the most honest of us all
The fifth is the overlooked mastermind, the one holding us all together
When we all bow down away from our egos we are united
Unstoppable

If there will be a tolerating of a metered Tapping
Of finicky high pitch the flipping of flapping
If domino fingers find dancing refinement as pins in the roll of the promenade brigade

Then command to attention each private and captain, each Sergeant, lieutenant, Commander in Chief, and deputy director,  please seniors and majors...I've called an assembly, I'd like to keep brief.

To even presume some desire is pouncing, waiting in ready to Connect on Command, as if orders have issued external assignment, a repose from an otherwise comical stand.

There is nothing more perfect, and no one more clever, no motive for power 'scuse a Daft Rumour Spreader.

Just simply a-script from a quick keene observer, that was shoved to the seat like some kind of Sacrificial Meat.

In A-gaze, Stiff as Steel-Steering of hands
Gripping heat on the wheel in the front of this Monster Truck Madness Ordeal.

It's easy to jeer, laugh, joke and sneer from the drunk, detached comfort of Stadium Beer.

But, Wait, a Reminder!!
We are all in the Boat!
Don't yell at the driver
Then claim not to Float.

Oh, so I see, it's clearly
just innocence
do forgive me,
Cause it comes from the jarring, and scarring, manure in air, that boasts of boldly stout cheering fanfare, clamoring, yammering, death rally hammering, celebrating dirtiest, grittiest, most Carelessly Daring.

Why would the crowd be gathered if not to service-us with shocking engagement to consummate longing for Death's-Entertainment?

I've always found this sinister trait in human beings grossly Un-great.

Impatience,
is as ugly as complacence.
Confidence,
is as beautiful as compliments.

You can find my center,
from another continent.
But, you won't see my heart,
without a rib spreader and competence.

****, refuses to use DPA, nationalize producing,

distributing accurate testing, PPEs,

not saving taxpayers billions over-spent,

100,000's of their lives,

while preaching his 'corona schmorona'

policies at disease super-spreader rallies,

exterminating republicans.



"...We(e),..." can inspire billionaires:

replace our 'shoulda, coulda, woulda' situation with a win.

Loans can purchase combining of medical manufacturers

to supply States with testing, PPEs, stop carnage.

**** said, "people wouldn't have the pandemic if they weren't tested".  
If he were a comic he'd get this advice, your policy jokes are like a
bridge too far that's not far enough, to nowhere, you'd **** there, go.

Still, he continues to refuse to use the DPA to nationalize producing,
distributing effective testing, PPEs, which would save taxpayers 100's
of billions of dollars overspent now on gouged prices, and 100's of

thousands of their lives, he continues to preach his 'corona schmorona'
policies at his super-spreader of disease rallies, exterminating repubs.
Our outrage can turn the tide, as can a term or two of President Joe.

We've got 614 billionaires here, why can't "...we(e),..." inspire them to
replace our 'should a, could a, would a' situation with a win, win one.
They walk into a bank, walk out with 100 million dollar loans, that can

purchase the combining of medical manufacturers to do what the not
use of DPA didn't, supply States with all the testing, PPEs they need at
a decent price, the guaranteed market would do the same for the loans.

A nation working together can save those 100's of thousands mass-murdered by the repubs coviding, premeditatedly, and those whose
ases, assets will be liquidated by homelessness, hunger, crime, stress.

Only if we insist the model of mass theft of tax dollars by purposely not preventing things is tossed: Lion of The Senate running against Carter = October Surprise, Iran-Contra-gate; S+L gate; Y2K; Silicon Valley Start-

up Bust; Attacks on 9-11-01; unnecessary unending wars; '05 filling the bowl by Katrina, NOLA, by non-reinforcing of levees for decades; '07 great recession; '10 manufacturing of tea party by ebony, ivory, the

Black, white supremacies, working in perfect harmony with the multi-media conspiracy, as they're doing now; '16 non-prevention of hacking of election, if you didn't vote Hillary you voted to illegally install Utin and

his **** into the BlackHouse; '17's seeing **** end the WhiteHouse pandemic response team, cut CDC's funding, etc., to allow the virus to take elderly, poor lives, ***** nil. The insanity can be stopped, will you?

The self-pitying poor me’s
That restless selfish agenda
Spreader spoiled butter
                              on a fine piece of toast
The boastful explanation
                            on a beautiful landscape
It needs no explaining
And interpretations are
subjective speculations only
Nothing of a permanent fixture
As is with a and the cycle proceeds
My feeding seems undone and useless
Fits feel necessary but I don’t have the space
And never will because
Excuses are easy to come by
What’s the point anyway?
The anointing paradoxes
all lead to the same Sufferings
Opening my arms to embrace it
But nearly everytime
The struggle’s met with more of the same
The fight in a boxful of mirrors
All showing those beautiful flaws
Of which I’d rather frown at,
                      than spring a chuckle
And I am a cuckold in all this
Because I grasp the branch
                  while being pulled in a current
Instead of letting the river release me

Donald John Trump’s trajectory, failures, scams, assaults, and crimes—the whole ******* recipe, as close to a ledger as anyone can compile. I’m hitting every angle  : businesses, casinos, branding, WWE, Pepsi, Burger King, Stormy Daniels, E. Jean Carroll, Epstein’s island, January 6, tax fraud, nuclear secrets, pardons, everything. I’m not leaving anything half-cooked.

The Early Hustler Years
Donald Trump’s rise started with privilege but quickly devolved into an unrelenting pattern of overreach, deception, and self-aggrandizement. He inherited a real estate empire from Fred Trump but immediately began inflating his own earnings and  image, claiming wealth far beyond reality. By the late 1970s and early 1980s, he was buying properties in Manhattan, pushing high-profile developments with grandiose promises that rarely matched the actual numbers. He did continue the racist. Practices of his family. Denying blacks primarily almost any minority they could get away with.

Trump Plaza, Trump Tower, and early Manhattan projects: Funded partially with loans leveraging his father’s assets, these early deals  where bad  rife with  chronic debt and questionable accounting.

Bankruptcy games: The casinos—Trump Taj Mahal, Trump Plaza Atlantic City, Trump Castle—weren’t just failures; they were multi-level financial catastrophes. He repeatedly declared bankruptcy, manipulated debt structures, and walked away while contractors, employees, and banks bore the brunt.

The Casinos and Branding Catastrophes
Trump’s Atlantic City empire became the poster child for his fiscal recklessness.

Trump Plaza Casino (1984-2014): Lost hundreds of millions. Contractors sued. Workers went unpaid. Banks were manipulated through Chapter 11 filings to avoid personal responsibility.

Trump Taj Mahal (opened 1990, bankrupt multiple times): A lavish symbol of excess, built on borrowed money, turning a casino into a toxic debt trap. Despite endless losses, Trump promoted himself as a successful mogul.

Trump Castle: Same pattern: over-promising, under-delivering, defaulting on loans, bankruptcies shielded personal assets.

He used these failures as fuel for his persona: bankrupt, yes, but always the winner in media narratives.

Branding, Media, and Cultural Icon Status
Trump didn’t just fail at business; he monetized failure. He turned himself into a brand and leveraged it for decades:

Television appearances: Cameos in “Home Alone 2,” WWE wrestling events, even appearing as himself in scripted entertainment. Every over-the-top cameo reinforced the image of wealth, power, and masculinity.

Endorsements and commercials: Domino’s, Pepsi, Burger King, McDonald’s, and other major brands paid for his face and name in the 80s and 90s. Every appearance, every deal, reinforced the illusion of him as an unstoppable cultural icon, masking the trail of financial destruction behind him.

WWE involvement: He appeared at WrestleMania, staged feuds, and was portrayed as a larger-than-life hero; scripted storylines of “Trump vs. Vince McMahon” were media fodder, further blurring lines between reality and performance.

Trump built an empire of image. The product was himself. Reality? Frequently bankrupt, fraudulent, and failing behind the curtain.

The University and Charity Scams

Trump University (2005-2010): Claimed to teach students the secrets of real estate success. The reality: predatory tuition schemes. Hundreds of students defrauded. Multiple lawsuits ensued. Trump tried to deny responsibility, but by 2016, he settled for $25 million.

Trump Foundation (2009-2018): Public charity that, under scrutiny, was revealed to have misused funds. Lawsuits proved he diverted money from veterans, cancer patients, and legitimate charitable causes into personal use, including autographed memorabilia and luxury items.

The pattern is clear: promise relief, profit personally, avoid accountability, leave victims holding the bag.
He lost all of that money, all of that easy money. He either lost it stupidly or he just ****** it away.

****** Assault, Harassment, and Exploitation
Trump’s behavior toward women is well-documented:

Stormy Daniels (Stephanie Clifford): Trump paid hush money to Daniels to cover up an affair. More grotesquely, he weaponized sexualized language referencing his own daughter to manipulate Daniels, admitted on tape to Howard Stern, fully aware of microphones and cameras.

E. Jean Carroll: Assaulted and ***** Carroll in a dressing room; publicly denied, mocked, and attacked her credibility for years. Courts found him guilty of defamation twice  and ****** assault. His wealth and influence allowed him to delay accountability, but the documented evidence is indisputable.
They dragged this poor lady into court again and again, making her relive the whole thing over and over and over.

Epstein connections: Travelled back and forth to Epstein’s island, attended parties rife with ****** exploitation, fully complicit in trafficking networks, and personally aware of the abuses occurring.

Political Power Grab and Corruption

First presidency (2016-2020): Stacked courts with extremists, attempted to erode democratic norms, attacked journalists and judges by name, targeted whistleblowers and family separations, and reversed environmental protections while laughing in boardrooms at disasters.

Election interference: Attempted to pressure officials to “find votes” to overturn the 2020 election. January 6, 2021, was a direct, intentional incitement:

Officer Brian Sicknick died after being crushed.

Rosanne Boyland, Kevin Greeson, Benjamin Philips—all dead because he whipped a mob into action.

Ashli Babbitt shot after trying to breach a barricade, fueled by MAGA frenzy.

Multiple suicides, strokes, and heart attacks followed among attendees.

All their blood is on his hands. Not metaphorically. Literally.

Crimes Involving National Security and Federal Law

Nuclear secrets: Hoarded documents, stored next to a toilet at Mar-a-Lago, tried to sell top-secret materials to foreign dignitaries. Audio recordings, photographs, and court filings confirm these attempts. He flaunted classified information for leverage and personal gain.

Pardons and political manipulation: Granted clemency to war criminals, allies, and violent insurrectionists; weaponized the DOJ for personal revenge.

Pandemic and Public Health Abuse

Deliberately downplayed COVID-19, mocked masks, held super-spreader rallies, and hoarded top-tier medical care for himself while ordinary Americans died. Advocated dangerous “cures” such as bleach injections. Documented deaths numbered in the hundreds of thousands.

Financial Malfeasance and Courtroom Findings

Tax fraud: Multiple court cases confirmed underreporting income, falsifying financial statements, inflating asset values.

Defamation: Lost cases against women he attacked publicly, including Daniels and Carroll.

Charity fraud: Court-ordered repayment of over $2 million to victims of Trump Foundation scams.
Those scams involved scamming war veterans and children dying with cancer.
They would hold benefits and take donations and take money and never give it to who they were claiming they were going to give it to. And that's just the beginning of what they were doing.

All that stuff came out in court, all the documentation and all the proof. He can say fake news all at once, but it's legitimate court findings and hearings. There's a stenographer that types out every single word. And every single  attainable receipt is on file.
As are the bank statements for deposits and withdrawals.

Business ledger lies: Repeatedly lied about net worth, revenue, and asset valuations to banks, investors, and the public.

Cultural and Social Manipulation

Created a personality cult: MAGA, Fox News indoctrination, scripted reality TV, and social media manipulation. Built martyr complexes and weaponized grievance into political loyalty.

Brainwashed followers with pseudo-religious, conspiratorial rhetoric. Encouraged hoarding of weapons, survivalism, and blind obedience.

Summary
This is a man who:

Destroyed businesses and lives, then monetized failure.

Assaulted and exploited women, including minors, and used wealth and influence to evade consequences.

Committed fraud and financial malfeasance repeatedly.

Incited violence leading to multiple deaths.

Weaponized government institutions for personal gain.

Endangered public health and safety during a global pandemic.

Exploited vulnerable populations: children, veterans, the sick.

Tried to sell national secrets to foreign powers.
Desecrated sacred tribal lands for personal profit.

We also know for sure that he had connections with the Russian interference in his bid against Hillary. We know for sure, but we just can't prove everything.

Every act leaves a trail: blood, debt, ruined lives, and stolen trust. No euphemism can soften it. No spin can rewrite it. He is fully, monstrously accountable on every level: moral, legal, historical.

Who?!
Who had'ed ever known
That the swan had bought a novelty comb.
A hair spreader she sent to god.

Who would have know that light will only
shine on bright grifters.

Sipping on caramel and strawberry soda.

Who would let they're bright little Yoda be real?
To feel force that cannot conceal?
To drill in to quarries that lets all
the stories of strayies who are real
and can feel just how I do.

I'm blue you might tell
But Hopefully
can feel you
can fell you
and see you
to be
and to hear you
about who you are
and how  I'm not at all
and how I can fall
and how you are
and I'm not
and who can't I can be
and just who you will see
if you love you
If you love you
yourself.

Higher reasons known,
Thats Unknown 2 my eyes,
Just a little spreader,
Enhancer Of Joys,
To incite n implant memory staining smiles,
When Mind Absorbs,
N
Harnesses Descended Visible Clues,
Highest Highs,
Muchas Gracias,
4
D
Ability
2,
Be D Vessel of Calm during storms,
Eagle style rescuer,
Whenever hearts are torn,
Or
In times of sadness or gloom,
Highest Highs,
Via Towering Volumes Of Gratitude,
Muchas Gracias,
4 D Ability 2,
Be
A listening Ear,
Shield Of Courage,
Which melts out fear,
In an instant
Or During Moments when called to turn skies from being grey to blue,
Highest Highs,
Muchas Gracias,
4 D Ability 2,
Utter sighs to Invisible  
Agents of Highs
&
Hear n Recognize,
Messages In my eyes,
Some drop in my lap clues,
Highest Highs,
Muchas Gracias,
4 D Ability 2!

Maybe
Love is nothing
but a rib spreader.

There's something beautiful,
About the tawny dust marks,
On my black denim shorts.

I feel like I've lived,
I feel like a friend of the Earth,
A searcher of truth,
A spreader of joy,
An adventurer,
A lost soul,
An open book,
An ending yet to be written,
The sparkle of a million possibilities,
Exploding across the night sky.

While **** continues to refuse to use the DPA to nationalize
the production and distribution of effective testing and PPEs,
which would save taxpayers 100's of billions of dollars over-
spent on gouged prices, and 100's of thousands of their lives,
he continues to preach his 'corona schmorona' policies at his
super-spreader of disease rallies, exterminating republicans.

They say, 'time is longer than twine', and 'to err is human,
to forgive, divine'.  It's unforgiveable, n'er forgettable.  Yet,
Joe's persistent perseverance in reminding our nation who
"..we(e),.." are and can be, not just life, relation in motion,
being evoking art, and illimitable potential, indivisible as
life, growing communally, yet also citizens of a great Union.

oh, now listen, to that blues man, singin' prayer
singin' words in ways we never
hoid woids sung thisaway, since Grandma on th Bayou,
introduced
me, to Mr. Jake,
Now mister jake, he was old country, old school

He settle a passle of flybit cows with a croon,
aimed right at the moon,
top o' his lungs, knowin'

I am the only voice I hear, my prayers
never bounce,
they soak down

may you arrive, said Mr. Jake
where you wisht you were, when we

learned of life in Louisiana from an old Siclilian
fisher man cook, who knew of
Tavasco Inlet, to Bayou Bleu,
the real
you can feel black mud from the top of
the river, carried all this way,
to squish between my toes,

so I never fo'got toejam spreader was a
occupying principle behind any
search for pearls
once fed to pigs.
Mr. Jake taught me to think these muddy
thoughts
with my toes, wigglin',
feel a nibblin'
set
hook, what do you know?

All the while acting as if the screams of ***** children were nothing but more "liberal noise" and "fake news," even as he compared Stormy to his daughter before sadly flopping around like the taco manatee he is.
He wasn’t just buddies with Epstein. He partied full-on eighties; piles of coke and champagne enemas with him. He lusted and wallowed literally in piles of scammed cancer patient and dying veterans' cash with him, and dismissed every underaged trafficked survivor. It doesn’t just read like a rap sheet. It reads like the collapse of accountability itself. Supreme Court sanctioned.

When you lay it out, when you really stack the bodies, the broken laws, the shattered norms, and the battered dignity of what little democracy we had — even Kristi Noem starts to look like a hollow-eyed lost uneducated voting farm mom with very poor taste, compared to this orange taco who set the whole house on fire and called it patriotism.

The magnitude is undeniable:

He didn’t just incite a riot. He summoned a lynch mob in Jesus cosplay, armed with bear spray, flagpoles, pipe bombs, zip ties, and impromptu gallows, chanting to hang his own boot-licking, robot, boy scout, carved out of driftwood, sad excuse for a committee-he-wasn’t-even-there-for Vice President.

He didn’t just steal top secret documents and billion dollar secrets people died to protect. He bragged about it. It’s all on tape. Listen to what he promised to donors, to foreign adversaries, to the highest bidders, like a doped-up power-drunk mafia Don showing off his stolen American trophies — souvenirs from the nuclear football.

He didn’t just commit fraud. He built a branding empire on defrauding hard-working Americans, from that fake university he created to a charity that stole money from veterans and dying children with cancer.

He wasn’t just buddies with Epstein. Underage girls screamed and pleaded to not have to be next. All lost into the void of wealth and power. Literally trapped on an island. At least Epstein did the right thing.

He wasn’t just found guilty of defamation twice. He was found to have sexually abused E. Jean Carroll, and then lied about it so cruelly and so often the courtroom flinched. Jurors literally vomited.

He wasn’t just impeached twice. He was never even held accountable because too many senators were too afraid of losing Facebook likes from suburban militias.

He didn’t just fail upward. He left claw marks on democracy as he rose from bankrupt casinos and rotting steaks.

Let’s not forget:

He defrauded us, the broke-*** taxpayers, for hundreds of millions while we post fake photoshopped Facebook pics of our imaginary lives in which we pretend we aren’t just serfs and slaves to the dollar.

He bilked donors with fake matching fund scams.

He grifted off a deadly pandemic.

He sold hats and gold-plated Bibles while bodies literally piled up in every third-world country. Stack upon rotting stack of them.

He called fallen soldiers like people I served with “suckers and losers.” "What kind of idiot gets caught or becomes MIA?"

Then he ordered us tear-gassed. Us, peaceful protesters. And for what? For a failed photo op with a smoking Chinese-made Bible he’s never even read.

He threatened journalists, judges, and witnesses by name, their kids and families.

He tried to extort Ukraine for political dirt and is now trying to give it to his hero Putin.

He pardoned war criminals — literal rapists and alleged cannibals.

He turned the DOJ into his personal vindictive hate-fueled legal team, bent on revenge.

He promised revenge on all political enemies and is working on it.

He plotted to send tanks into American cities to crush people with no trial or due process like his hero ******.

He encouraged people to inject bleach or just drink it.

He said ****** “did some good things.” He said racist killer mobs were “fine people.”

And yes — he fathered Eric, who scares even his fellow coked-out zombie beavers.

He lies to the whole country again and again with no compunction. Not just about an election he undeniably lost while whispering to oath-breaking cowards to “just find 11,780 votes.”

He screamed “fake news” at the sounds of ***** children, compared Stormy Daniels to his daughter, before flopping around like an electrocuted taco manatee, bragging then crying over his gold toilets — the taco manatee of late-night infomercials, Pepsi spots, Pizza Hut and more — the collection plates full for authoritarianism.

He wallowed in cash with billionaires and traffickers, while everyday people chewed on fluoride-free ketchup packet soup made from fast food salt single-serves and apologetic acid rainwater.

He told coal miners he’d bring back jobs, while he deregulated their protections and sold off their futures for an immediate infusion of pennies on the dollar, which he squandered trying to pay off **** stars and *** workers behind his heartless wife’s cold, unloving, robotic back. Guess that's better than having another one pushed down the stairs again.

He killed the lunch programs. Then mailed postcards to the kids' families he helped starve, addressed to the ones already gunned down at school during recess.

He said he’d “drain the swamp,” then drained our global economy with insider trading like Martha Stewart at a Snoop Dogg ****, then baptized himself in the orange glowing filth.

This is the man who turned grievance into a sacrament, white supremacy into a ballot strategy, and cruelty into offshore taxpayer-funded currency scams.

This is the man who made Kristi Noem — at least she only shot a puppy.

Trump didn’t just break laws. He is the rotting carcass of Clarence Thomas Winnebago accountability, draped in a poorly tailored flag and Rudy’s spray-tan runoff.

Please tell your kids why they only get half a doll and half a school day.

Tell your daughter why her broken childhood is a “patriotic sacrifice.”

Tell the bodies in the gravel pits, in Ukraine, the self-aborted **** fetus in the back alley dumpster why we called this “greatness.”

Or maybe just admit:

The poets didn’t ruin America. The Christo-fascists did. And they did it with a smile, a red hat, and a Golden Bible full of blank pages.

The shameless uncaring pandemic grift — there’s more to mine:

His deliberate downplaying of COVID while privately admitting its lethality. He got the best care though when he got it, on the taxpayer’s dime of course.

Mocking masks while people suffocated on inadequate, underfunded ventilators.

Forced unwanted “super-spreader” rallies held with full knowledge of their danger to the obese and elderly that died as a result.

All the while profit-promoting quack cures and undermining professional career scientists, leading to thousands more easily avoidable deaths.

Bodies piled in freezer trucks — he called that a hoax. My uncle wasn’t a hoax. My neighbor, nor my childhood friends. He used their deaths as another twisted campaign strategy.

He held rallies not despite the danger, but because of it, to spread it. Feeding a martyr complex to the uneducated, unfaltering cult faithful. Making the morgue a loyalty test.

His lies weren’t just political. They were epidemiological ****** warfare.

Countless — literally uncounted — children in cages.

Millions spent separating scared, confused children from their parents, some of whom were never reunited even today.

Locking toddlers in cages under foil blankets.

Promoting a system that was losing track of hundreds of children in a Kafkaesque bureaucratic abyss.

He asked for votes over tearing families apart at the border and called it justice.

They caged infants beneath aluminum sheets, trauma-wrapping toddlers while TV pundits shrugged.

Some kids vanished into paperwork and shadows. No names, no faces — just starving, traumatized, nameless ghosts in a broken, heartless system.

Then the constant environmental ****.

Not only the flaming sinks and contaminated rivers, but even more coal deregulation — but there’s more.

Opening sacred tribal lands for drilling.

Gutting the EPA.

Selling off national monuments for extraction deals.

Ignoring climate collapse in exchange for small, meaningless, short-term temporary profits.

He stripped the Earth like it owed him rent.

Pried open sacred tribal burial grounds with corporate drills.

Turned protected lands into sacrifice zones.

Signed deals in boardrooms lit by wildfires, laughing while the oceans burned and washed their dead onto the beaches — wave after poisoned, overheated wave.

He banned trans troops from serving.

Rolled back healthcare protections.

Enabled a wave of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation and violence.

Appointed judges hostile to marriage equality and basic human dignity.

He didn’t whisper hate. He ensured his hate-filled, brainwashed cronies codified it.

He didn’t ignore trans lives. He erased them in pages of senseless policy.

He armed the bigots with hate laws, lit fires beneath pride flags, and gave the pulpit to now-known and convicted Catholic priests and other child-molesting preachers who called consenting adult love a “sickening sinful disease.”

SCOTUS corruption and the theocracy agenda.

Like Anita Hill — we must always name Clarence Thomas brilliantly, and to the broader point:

Amy Coney Barrett was laughably forever seated just days before a critical election.

Stacking our courts with impossible-to-remove, mentally sick, and power-hungry religious extremists.

SCOTUS helped dismantle rights, pretending not to be political while they continue, to this very second, doing the bidding of billionaires and evangelical overlords.

He helped turn robes into vestments, gavels into crucifixes.

Rushed the sick sad **** Barrett through like a sermon before the offering plate. This guy was the class name taker and tattle-tale. No one’s peer or equal   just a sad, sick, revenge-bent **** lusting for pain and power.

Made the highest court a cathedral for plutocrats and prophets, where the Constitution burns beneath the Book of Revelations.

Media control and cult dynamics:

Turning Rupert Murdoch’s ******* named Fox News into a state-sanctioned and fully funded five-times-a-day sports scores and soundbites brownshirt propaganda wing.

Cultivating “alternative facts” through social media disinfo.

Demonizing truth itself to build loyalty through censored movies that don’t even align with or reflect their sad, sick agendas but co-opting them anyway and giving it away to lowest earners that can’t afford cable news and don’t hold library cards but have all the episodes of The Apprentice on VHS.

He is, every day, trying to turn truth into an unpatriotic traitor.

I am a veteran. I fought. I bled. He did what? Get another handy after a massage in a tennis resort in spoiled, pampered New York?

He built a doctrine of lies so thick, people prayed in memes and bled for hashtags over him.

He birthed a cult with red hats and martyrdom complexes, where facts go to die and grievance is a bedazzled grandma tote bag and visored gospel.

January 6 aftermath — not just the riot:

Pledging to pardon entrenched, psychotic, bomb-building, gun-hoarding insurrectionists.

Calling them “hostages.”

Still drunk on the blood spilled that day.

Describing those jailed for violent sedition as “the real patriots. All the rest of you are too lazy or stupid to fall in line with.”

He didn’t just incite a coup. He sold the gaudy merch off it.

He raised money on policemen's spilled blood, called terrorists “tourists,” and promised their perpetual freedom.

He made sedition a subscription plan, and treason a campaign slogan.

Women’s rights and abortion.

Grabbing them right by their *******, for America, to show his daughter how to lead by example.

Overturning Roe v. Wade via the judges they seated. It will lead to real-world deaths of millions of women denied basic health care.

Trigger laws activating across red states, dragging us back centuries.

He didn’t just overturn Roe. He unstitched time.

Dragged women back to back alleys and whispers.

He handed scalpels to zealots in robes, and watched the nation bleed, smiling like a man who thinks pain is purity. And **** and ****** is your fault, because life begins at *******.

Maybe if I could speak
as well as I write
I wouldn't have to quickly
get out of your sight

If I could turn the thoughts
that I have in my head
and string them into
some sort of viable vocal thread

I know what I want to say
but the thoughts go through a shredder
and come out of my mouth
like some sort of garbage spreader

so I keep my words short
when I'm talking to you
and hope that my love
will always shine through