PMPope

park(ed) @ a park                         (ing) space out_side  a new-ly (ish) craft & ed community  peo(n)ple(d) UnKnown without histor(i) Calities & City(less)-ies (not yet)                hid-den be_neath  a steel (re:gray) sky                a-mid au-tumn's finery  this                {is a} dream mill _ions of mi_les away a_tro cities & exhib!tions              tick,                   tick,                         tick  the ch!ld's plas                                -tic                    ...

 A bit of liquid Falling from the silver ceiling  Grab your hoses  & breathing tubes Helpless at the merest whim Of a whimpering, cock-eyed whip-or-will  Threading saturation through this new decay Running counter clockwise around   the color wheel 

Unless those days were shortened,  no flesh would be saved; but for the elect’s sake  those days will be shortened  Moving between points of time  Without strapping a rocket to this frail frame  the reality, however; is through that glass darkly  breaking through the gauze of sunsets, concertos, prismatic visuals,  forgotten refrains, moments, hours, seconds (stretching),  the rails of trains,...  though dared through quarantine  with the world watching and waiting  the light to fade  an attempt would be fatal to any human time is an illusion; it is relative  all plastered out  spread eagle  embroidered into this four-dimensional fabric of space-time  tear it down  rip it out  FSU  burn it to hell  the ashes return to Earth  ever so slightly younger than  their identical twins that remain  OR to travel wormholes between the fibers in the blanket of time  while ...

it was the morning of the spring. As unpredictable as the weather patterns  of the Mid-Atlantic could be,  during this season, they would be this morning. What kind of southern hound, who enjoys the growl of rubber and asphalt, could stop himself from jumping in his car  and taking in the music of wet asphalt and breaking clouds?  Not i, gentle sleeper, not i. To let all the joy and misery of reality wheel about you,  while the eye speeds past the clumping Wisteria,  this must be what Morning from Peer Gynt is all about. The lilt of the flutes  while the k9 task force SUV is situated in a hiding spot  down the stretch of Old Statesville Road  between Oak Drive and Gibbon Road.  Of course he would give you a ticket  if you accelerate to pass the crusty eyed drivers  with no love for the visual paradise being offered. The mornings of spring are quite different from any other season....

Finding the bottom of the pot As rushing between necessity permits Babble on Babble you glorious heads of beef Sing every moment you have left The Spring really needs to know Your law is held in reserve for higher profits Price per barrel; priceless The cost of love When you need to eat steak Or gnaw off your arm Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

Today the teeth aren't too bad. I have the teeth of a shark. They aren't connected to the jawbone. They float in the gums and bump against the bone decay. I tried once to bite a girlfriend on the back pocket of her jeans. Holy mama! that was my first experience in the extreme dental hell-pain I would find myself thrust into throughout my adult life. The genetics were just all wrong. My mom has the same bone loss and gum disease patterns i see in myself. My dad,... pshww! if he had any sort of medical condition he wouldn't tell me about it. He almost missed out on even saying 'Hello.' to me on this planet. He wanted my mom to have an abortion while she was pregnant with me. That makes you feel sorta special once you know what it means. I have to wake up early to take my mom to her doctor appointment. Buenos suenos!