all things be readily available for purchase
at all times all lines are busy
all people know their places
all needs presented in a frenzy
all news conveyed in language while all recipients wait impatient -
in a bucket slowly churning; insects composting sinking swirling.
all the lines are in all rows and in all lines exists
all flow, leading us all down toward more
- reeaal slow.
all things, or more --
all dreams, all lore -
all seas all floors,
tucked away neatly in all drawers.
forced
stuck in a body like a bug in a rug,
desperately wanting to stay and not budge.
what is outside if it is not this love?
who could be happy when the promise is rubbed?
proven to bank on what comes from above,
selfishly clutching the wings of a dove.
what is outside if it is not this love?
what can i do so i cannot be snubbed?
viewing the world from a washbasin tub,
of course shit looks scary when you're warm and so snug.
why does it think it's the end of the line?
why's it believe it began 'longside time?
why is it screaming, "give it back that was mine!"?
why can't we get past this notion divine,
and notice forever all living is dying,
and keeping your own soul is quite like a child
who's crying to mother, "give me back, that was mine!"
-={[ ? ]}=-
Glad you're present, glad receive.
What will be will only be,
Yet what may kneed can fit form free.
Posit artist, dancing hh.
Fizzing Christmas, pissing knee.
Tattled forlorn, begs escape,
Making reasons, playing fake.
Sitting, seeing, sucking diety,
Tasting, lapped up mortal rest,
Touch now feel some oozing reason,
Purchased flashback, false decree.
Signaled isthmus, train-tracked trolly,
Target: frigid dapper yankee.
Booing season wretched freedom,
Stinking, drunken fucked up free.
Dedicated to your missing parts;
(the) Ability to live through apocalypse,
it exists out there just barely.
Find it out and write it down,
and give it to children to read.
Then go to sleep and you will know,
you'll know you knew you'd never know.
A gaping eyehole - three times as wide as the mind,
A beautiful keyhold - the next in line to see,
The nerve of the senses brought before entrance, attached via wires of three.
Heed out for slow downs that speed up instead.
Break up clay reasons gone hard in your head;
can't see through life, you're just not quite dead.
Or straighten out seemingly endless sprung thread;
can't see through life until you've been dead.
can't see true beauty 'til beauty butts you in the head and
didn't know the knife was sharp 'til one cut you in the hand,
but now you know you never knew and somehow understand,
your head your heart your feet your soul's connected to the land.
Party on planet A
Time's a wastin', fast embrace now,
Think ahead man, drink some data down.
Slapped approach, messed recourse
toasting to a false remorse... stuck, and wondering how to get for free.
Button worthy, friend of a friend,
Step up like dummies with holes to mend,
Set up like programs plugged into their ends,
Silly circus hold your breath, pull back your cups now and give it a rest.
Peek inside, but stay awake, shut your face and get a taste.
Now you see the flaming fear
OH MY GOD IT'S ALMOST HERE
Hurry up now hurry gone, clean things up now, HERE COMES MOM.
Dance out loud and take that toast, you're the virus,
she's the host.
