phyllo dough considerations
veil the rigid silence
under quip, under smile-
covered cliche cud.
it is in essence meaningless,
this large party,
this braying urgency of guests

the house swims with life,
we mingle charismatic coughs
as talents strut; bouncing fruit
and swaying surface tension fizz
sparkles off the balcony of floating drinks

our tall pines are echoing beyond the yard
a sylvan soft allure of
living soundboard drape,
it needles aromatic carpet for a
*******, brink-of-dawn escape

allocate the living and the dead,
the borderline is begging to be tread.

an elastic belt extends the real,
a tool for party tricks, a tool for bending time--
i'm bounding off into the darkness
balling lightning in my dantien,
the world a trampoline;
running full i top the rail of gasps,
swinging through the arc
of thinning line to pull me back around,
stomach churning fiction-sick
with gravity inverted joltingly,
umbilically, aware.

then she has a turn as i,
as being me, and as i (as I)
careen away, the vaster leap
of single body, double mind-
it pulls beyond substantial thought

our uber-jumprope dangles
while we speed above the trees -- all is dark
excluding speckled stars
and the one, shrinking party-glow i lose below

the television orbits,
wobbles in a superstrings' embrace
all balance lost --
we're floating in a spin alone
unfocused universal locus..
stars diminishing reliquish cosmic depth
and nourish life in death

reeling eyes of weightless ******
squint to spacetime surgings
inward of the who i am--
plasticity-encasing glass of box
to offer all subverse companionship.
i tug the corded fabric
fronting interweaving screen
of futile marking where
i've riveted, lost, gazing
psychosoma scene
a modern mind-toy posted
to enframe another me we are,
even here with outside sight of world
vacuum up and lower heading
compass only gulping awe,
the breath is gone, a stinging heart
revalves its pacing flow
descending cosmogonic thread

allocate the living and the dead,
the borderline is begging to be tread.

i imagine trees again,
branches soft,
trunks my guideposts to the ground i've lost~
i'm mingling against my sense of real again,
packing leftovers, living social lies unknown.
a man compliments his speech
as "Bristling with business."
the jelly seeps beyond the pita's edge,
the pita slides out from under foil.
the party swivles on its axis,
the clowns play on, noble chefs
laughing in their pots
while i visit drooping psyche forms,
around and through glass doors,
crystal tables -- a furniture of ideal norms
to overturn. ah. i'm found again,
a bit less vast among a crowd
of nescient lives unlived. i'm
found undiscovered open all,
plainly lacking truth as well,
i'm me, this other presence,
this shifting sight,
flood experiential zoo,
this empty vessel holding two
a social fissure prying sense of self
from up a wild void..

Got that green reverberatin'.
When to stop?
She comptinplatin' cause the train done left the station.
It's a indecation her imagination on incline.
It's the primetime in mankind she on a zipline.
The picture done popped out the frame.
She on a train called insane, that cant be tamed.
But she is still on her game.
She fly high with them aviators.
Cruising space with Darth Vader.
That green **** she saver

when you get stuck for the first time,
they tell you to let go of whatever you’re holding on to,
spread your arms out and pull yourself to safety.

sometimes being backwards helps.
from personal experience, i can attest
to that.

and if you slip, or miss a step,
you might dangle,
but you always have something
attached to help you get back up.

and you might be somewhere and
find it a herculean task,
while someone else finds it a breeze,

you can choose how hard you make it,
and you might feel locked in,
but there’s always stability on the other side,
and who doesn’t want a bit of a challenge

there’s always someone to ask for help,
because even the best of us struggle,

and if you don’t enjoy it as much as everyone else,
you’ll have another chance at your own choice too.

When did news parody
stop being funny?
Was it somewhere between
Alan Jackson’s 9/11 cash-in
and Donald Trump’s hair?
Was it BoJo stranded on a zipline over London,
or Cameron’s alleged porcine relations
(bizarrely black-mirroring fiction)?
When did the news
start doing Chris Morris’ job for him?
When did they start
pre-satirising the headlines?
“No evidence mermaids exist,” says US Government.
Swimming pool evacuated after prosthetic leg is mistaken for *******.
Robots follow Marco Rubio to South Carolina.
I swear, I didn’t
make any of those up.
The actors on Saturday Night Live
are more statesmanlike
than the Presidential Primary Candidates they’re lampooning.
How the hell do they breed these
creatures?  These gurning,
overgrown foetuses with their
conveniently dead ****** sisters to get
all wet-eyed and tumescent over,
their boomingly hollow controversy and
their total, catastrophic
crashes of personality.  
These loathsome
organic constructs who would seem
more relatable and trustworthy if
their image consultants made them wear
Nixon masks for every
public appearance.  

When did it all become
this strange, sick spoof
of itself?

Is there no one left in Britain who can make a sandwich?
Man dressed as penguin receives more votes than the Liberal Democrats.
Piers Morgan given jail time for illegally hacking ‘phones and gloating about it.

Okay.  
I made the last one up.

The black dog is on my doorstep, he insists that he needs a drink.
Footprints are already impounded on all followed pavements.
The cake is poisoned with the stories of the greater mans word.
Eat it and your fate is within their wrist flicking reach.
End results and the finishings of situations
Are already determined beyond personal effect.
How many men are in your army? How many would have my back?

There is a man on a chair holding the club of master dimensions
I can see how he wants to play with my intents.
They force the doors shut blocking a sky that is taught to be blue
So we miss that it was turning green through foreign effects.

The black dog is on the doorstep, he insists that he needs some help
I stand on the zipline, looking over the city and the laid out maps.
If I was to say the sky was blue,
My hand you would shake and praise intellect.
If the same sky was deemed to be green,
Soldiers would be notified to create laws to control the insanity paradox.

The same man on the chair, dictates with a definitive howl,
I can see there is no room for small whistles or whispers.
The slammed door will not open despite my best efforts.
There is no way when there is one of me pushing one way and ten men pushing back.

I can't look at other girls without seeing your face
and the space it fills up while spilling the waste
of a bad days taste left stale on my tongue
while you clean it with yours, cupid's arrow is plunged
inside of my heart as it's strung onto yours,
a zipline to glide on and slide in your core.
I look to my compass, your smile is north,
when the sun goes down, it shines even more.
And scorn from jealousy the sun may just mourn,
but returning to you from the darkest of storms.
So if ever I get lost in this great big world,
my home I will find from your lips when they curl.

She takes the day with a smile.
She gives everyone a part of her heart.
Making the broken bridges to a wild zipline ride,
somewhere over the horizon.
She does that to them.
But to her it seems to take forever.
To reach the horizon that everyone was longing.
She stands there looking.
Dreaming what it was like to be in paradise.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,
I can write circles around you

I can do laps.

I can breathe the poison

I can be the 'bad guy'.

I can be the 'hero'.

I can be the nobody.

I can be  the trash bag, with grain rice and 3 rotten fruit.

I can jump rope on a train

I can sing the alphabet.


I can **** the mouse.


I can spill the guts.


I can zipline to peru.

I can  feel the crevice and eat lettuce on a 2-day basis.


God-given rights
are not sacred.

Just

believe in yourself.


& stop telling me    I'M NOT WORTH IT.



:::::_)   ::::)  :::)  :))) :) :) :) 0

Foremost gratitude heavenly indebted,
jumbling kindling, linkedin mourning
numbness overlaid, pervaded, quashed,
routed thoroughly undermined vibrant
warbling, when xing yesterday's youth

zigzagging, accompanying blitzkrieg
cleaving deafeningly exploding,
formative grim homelife, indelibly
jabbing kid, (little me) nonstop,
overwhelming progeny, quintessentially

robbing, stunting, tormenting
unrelentingly vitality wrenching,
why xyst, zapping assiduousness,
begetting, crushing, destroying essential
fortitude, generating grievousness,

hellacious intractable joylessness,
kneading loneliness, murdering nascent
opportunistic potential, quiet, reserved,
timid, untested voiceless x years,
zilch accomplishments, boyhood

cheated, dieted, extremely famished,
gifted hirsute heir, ill, jettisoned
kippered lunkhead mealy mouthed,
nerdy, outlier psychologically quartered,
repressed self, tamped universal vitality,

withheld Xmas yearnings, zapped
animalistic basic cravings, denied
endeavoring fulfillment, gouged hole
inside, jawboned, kept lid mentally,
nixed opportunities, pronouncedly

quarantined, rabidly snatched tasting
ultimate vibrant x2c, yanked zipline,
aborting bequeathed capacity depriving
eats, forever ghosting hated individual,
jackknifing, kickstarting livingsocial

mortgaged, never ordained physical
quests, ruined self, thoughtfulness
vanquished, worthiness Xrayed,
yabadabadoo zone agitated
beyond crafting development,

executed firstrate glorious human,
impounded jailed kindred love,
manifested nebbish, obliged pleasing
quirky ridiculous travesty, unleashed

vapid wretchedness, xyz, attempted
bizarre concoction, decoding
essentially fruitless, go head issue
joker kick.