One: It was a great party. Everybody was able to share his or her minds. We were all engaged dialed into each other. No one blended into a wall. No one bloomed out the other side.
The gathering kind of reminded me of a conversation I had when I as 13 years old at Astronomy camp.
Two: I found him in the ocean. We were on a boat. He and I were on the hunt for October. All of a sudden the line went taut. The creature came up to fight. It was a monster. It took a big bite out of our little boat. He threw a scuba tank into its gaping mouth. That’s when I fired the flare gun.
Three: I thought the American dream was standing in line. Waiting your turn to take a ride, get food or buy junk. This is our right handed down from the confounding father's. I was in line yesterday buying glow in the dark paint with ten other people behind me. I looked down the line and said, “I thought this was a recession?” the lady in front of me said, “yeah, but we are all trying to make something. To to get what is ours out of it. We paint over the shards of chaos, so that order can be reorganized. When I grow up, I wanna be a republican so that I can make money from someone else's misfortune."
You have always said things out loud in public. Do you remember when we went to the movies and you yelled in that Shakespearian brogue, “THAT, My Brother’s and Sister’s of the Wood, IS THE SOUND OF TWO HUNDRED PEOPLE GETTING BUTT-FUCKED BY THE FILM INDUSTRY! HOW DOES IT FEEL, NOW, TO KNOW THAT YOU CAN NEVER GET A REFUND ON THE TIME WASTED HERE?”
Four: Don’t trust the “no vacancy” sign. Someone is home. Cat’s know much.
But that’s not what the picture says. It says, no, I’m not using any probes (anal or otherwise), but I do have a sensitive thermometer.
Five: Here’s my tale of ohh… at the zoo, Mi Pe Qats stabbed into an offal’s pouch. In a slur a bloody Nave’s oral wet slurp tapered off a vile zit. The town’s id feigns a jeer it lays with the ox. He hides.
Once upon a time, he admitted in an ode a shout of joy followed by hallelujah amen! Sex bides in a fir grove. Dour ropes tug. A loud stair….Nod. Do. Flee. Make a vile pouch. Make the grade. Stab slurp rend jar jeer. Taper a bloody joy of wet offals. Cut tag pouch feign nil qat wet peak. Xi lays wet. He owed a nave at the zoo an ode. Admit to oral joy. Slurp it wet. Amen.
Lying hid in a nave cave we get wet. Peak joy stabs us bloody amen.
Six: Do you remember what it meant to be a doter? A hitcher wandering down a stray deserted road. Leading a mad cow on a long chain. When you went to the psychic seer, do you remember how she flipped the card like a high roller? That was the card that sent you empty to the lab, but that’s not the worst of it.
Later you found the exact same story on the backside of a Wheaties box.
Seven: This must be the worst poem I’ve ever written. Do you want to sing it?
Eight: A thin shade separates heaven from hell. A bat flew out over shadowing the caves. Ronnie James Dio is now with the Krell. A thin shade separates heaven from hell. Our president was good, but now he fell. Oiled by a party in ecstasy he raves. A thin shade separates heaven from hell. A bat flew out over shadowing the caves.
Nine: A window looking into our times. Thanks for peering in and reflecting it into words.
Also check out my other wordpress website. It's a literary journal called Randomly Accessed Poetics! Submissions are open. We Publish continually. Lastly, Penhead Press's first publication: Randomly Accessed Poetics, Issue 1: The Texture of Words came out. If you're interested you can find it in the kindle store.
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