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The lazy American now stops, strokes his chin ponderously, and decides he will share a tidbit of his profoundness with his echo chamber.

His sonorous pronouncements into the void make a lovely resonance which fills him with self-reverence.

No one responds. No one but him cares of these things of import upon which he importunes. Even he lets his mind drift to some other next thing which interests him, only dropping this–whatever–here so that he might point to it in a day, in a year, and muse upon its empty greatness.

And then he will lurch on to the next distraction.

Meanwhile, machines kill distant unknowns unbeknownst to him in his name, as we lay dying a heat-death in a fevered dream.

I am a faded lover
of some power and might
You will note–
An old aflame
Once ever

Yet i stand naked before all.
Aflame aflight upon the twilight
yet tight alight–ohh…

Good night…


2016. Sandy echos low by the shore… 

We could have been legendary lovers
Sing clingy caught between the earth and the sea!

She sings tingling clinging to te-titty.
Rap turn a wrap clap trap you know how it feels—
Legendary lovers ever living real for it is we!

I love you, all you that I loved before,
adrift with me here with thee
And more by the sandy shore…candy store.

What sort of difference would it make?
Afloat up in a sea no key aqui she clings tenaciously for teatitty sufficiently
Who knows—
What sort of difference would it make—
What chance circumstance she dance a trance romance she drove to the shore—
Afloat in a sea…aqui…

Primal Soul–
MY soul–
is complete.
It is my masterpiece.
My most brilliant work
worthy to be
remembered throughout
the centuries!
check me out on the goods right here…
What if Jesus did not die on the cross?
He is my son
So he was drugged a’la The Passover Plot,
and spirited away,
Away to Tarsus.
There, he took on the name
and identity of
The one called Saul,
later known as the apostle Paul,
who had an epiphany
on the way
to Damascus:
Why don’t I
Preach that I
am the
messiah of the Gentiles?
Be it also known
That he
Was the
One We know
Who took away
And he
Stepped down
From his throne
In the heart of Rome.
Because he already stuck a knife
into the heart of his true enemy,
The real Satan,
Thus we live now
In  the Kingdom of God
We thus have earned.

The real question you have to ask yourself is, what if she does go away?
What if she was never there?
A figment of your imagination?

I think I dreamed about you on a winter morning
A hundred years ago, when I was younger,
Of a girl who was dreaming of me simultaneously.

I think I heard your voice whisper to me in the dark much later on,
When I was alone and desolate in that far-off cell.

I think many nights you wiped my tears away
When I begged for relief from myriad wounds.

I know you were always the other half of me.

It’s nice to finally meet you.

Please don’t go away.

Today was overall a rotten day with people I don’t really like. Some people are cool, some not so much. And I have never felt so generally disrespected as I have today. And helpless too. Like I am stuck with no way out.

I have no one to tell who will listen so I tell you.

So on my birthday eve, I polished off the last of the Tennessee Honey (left from my last chili cooking). Abuzz with a buzz, I am watching a twisty movie. I wish I were not watching alone. But I am.

In love with the love I cannot have, I simply sit and watch by the wayside. Perhaps it’s best this way. But it surely don’t feel so.

I love you. I wish you’d find me. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.

Sometimes I have to be reminded…. Oh, and the next book is tentatively titled “Adventures in Ordinary Time.”

Subconscious romantic
In a world of subtle lines,
Sees the sturm und drang
Underneath ordinary time.

Powerful forces array
In his workaday.
It’s not all about him
But he doesn’t feel that way.

And love, ol’ love
is his singing song.
He needs it to color
His whole day long.
And when it fails
To live up to his dreams,
In mighty thunder he wails.
“Nothing is as it seems!”

“If you end up spending too much time in hyperspace, to the point where you’re hearing the music in the sub-etha without a receiver, you get me? That’s spacer jazz. They say some of those musicians play that music, they were spacers that got caught out too long.”

I hear my voice
Ringing in my head.
I have no one else to talk to,
No one else will listen.