PMPope

 Piano sonata floats through American French Café As seen from above Floating after the swirling downward spiral Railroaded Insurance Business talks Draining into damaged hopscotchery  Collision with the crescendo of major chords Level 2 and 3 positions are available for early consideration Mother and Daughter teams queing for the Titanium Overload Endurance 500K should begin by building six-pack adjacent learning facilities housing on-site counseling education forums and all-natural organic pharmaceuticals mumbling and faking until you cake it No one OWNS you   unless you'd rather be grandfathered in

Take what status affords you And stuff it Into that Overhead Alligator  Bag

 There is a hashtag for you  song in the Twitter  by the fallen tree  beyond the chain link fence  which is held together  with a piece of plastic  and a guard rail  or spit rail  or a bunch of chairs  in the back  held together  with a rat trap  and a drainage PVC pipe  which flows down  to the green land  i.e. - the weed land  with the constant  drip  drip  drip

We won’t be able to answer every question,  but we can pass it on to our highly trained board

The layers here are more about a shared history  than alarmist rhetoric.  GenX has always been made to bite the bullet 'for the sake' of 'the way it is'.   

 #1  Lord, please send protection against the deceptive fingers  gripping this world  a stranglehold  all surfaces are corrupted  either by chemical castration  or our mutating organic nature  please lift the masking  from the vision of the filters  from the cosmic reality  that is actual  dirt has become a shield  electrons scream  Alien  DNA comes in copyright plastic  wrap murder hornets and exploding populations of ticks  screaming across every nook and cranny  of our buttery goodness quaint Polaroid memories  Mad, mad, mad cow disease  exactly because America is so very awesome  how can a country built  on your name  be systematically racist?  Answer: it can't!  Man can!  There is no good man There is only man Humankind We run The tables We pop pop pop we compete against one another  to our very last breath Every once in a while  one jumps up...

Not one damn person stands to offer A ride or a fine 'how do you do?' Out on the stretches  Of those long and lonesome  desert highways Young and rangy  Not yet a tattooed canvas And not quite any longer  A multi-colored, spiky haired punk Not that you could tell (from a passing vehicle) Wrapped in an Army Navy store field jacket Black, of course, my leather  with hand painted longhorn skull Long since abandoned to storage Or some ex-girlfriend's domestic care Wouldn't do me any good anyway The heat of crossing a desert alone And on foot equivalent, at least to my urban mindframe, to walking across a lake of glass on fire And inside of a microwave oven I'm going to give y'all  the benefit of the doubt It was the  80s on the cusp of the 90s And maybe you didn't have your internet  set up right, at that time.... So you couldn't see the injustice The complete uncaring, The disregard for your fellow human being Be he (or she) white, black, brown, yell...

 

of cruel winter hinted by diabolical agents  trying to incorporate miserable  lives stitched in   like your mouth stitched shut  with metal staple shards   if you ask for me  you can ask for glorious  who saw me wander alone  who knew when i was hungry  i didn't have to learn no damned eubonics  to write out my blues  with a tangerine sun sinking  into the far horizon                                                                                                                                          ...

 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 ...

Not one of them knew the color of her smile.  Their eyes stared level, fastening upon the inevitability of the day.  The rushing approach of darkness and the glorious mortal weakness of sleep. Who could ask children to know the fine porcelain of her cheek or the anticipated thrill of her lips? Just as the sand shifts beneath the rolling tracks of an armored personnel carrier, the minutes drip through the hourglass and we all wake with revised expectation and heavily edited, lackluster laundry-lists of realizable daily tasks. You could check out at anytime you wish.  You could throw your trousers in a sack, grab some greasepaint, & hit the open road.  This is what killed Kerouac, inevitability. It wasn't the road. All the intrigues, adventures, romances, late nights, early dawnings,... ad nauseam  weren't the culprit of his demise.  Same as Cobain & Elvis.  Our eyes are opened wide before they slam shut.  The hardest thing is to...

Being that Bejing never cared to send a crate of beans A ukelele skeleton sat zebra crossing Late night at the dur dire Von wire tire site That was enough for any body with anti-microbial anti-body skills to kill The official office status of squish squashing Stash bashing on a hashtag of jet lag Easy like M onday Morning She'd never say 'Hey, hey-hey!' the way she played an Oxford hound home bound on the Down low hassock classic live and let live on life's pipe pick a poke of hokey jokey dribbling juke jotted Rotterdam joints of the finest Dutch druthers \weeping and creeping in the bird Aire all night long at least until Tuesday welds it up for Ruby And Lulu runs uptown Flight 8:30 came and went got bent then spent on the ghost toaster of incindiary cinnamon goalposts between the kicks were all up for in the over under past of passing psylocks that pass what it was when the fuzz found out (no doubt) all about that arthritic laced gout joust ...

This is a space where the old meets the new this road we traveled daily in hopes of finding ourselves we wave and smile and say nice things 'hey! how are y'all?'  'it's a lovely day!'  but somebody is opportunity minded  Writing it into contracts  serve it up as scripts  online  if you could see what I see  you'd know my eye  is true  you know my heart  yet still you ask  what it is, in my eye  a piece of music?  a leg of poem ?  ripped from hot summer asphalt  the time we both  went to our respective homes  at the same time  bored to tears  with all the mo-not-o-ny  of our non-corporate adventures Speed is the beat of the heart which is beauty too fast or at least faster than the paper production process 24 for 7 is pretty fast considering that 90 is too fast Where 70 is regular sending electronic mating...

Whatever it takes to get you  there and back again  this would be a good place  for a marsupial pouch  weird psychotic life dragging groceries  up a hill called California  Out here on the Barbary Coast  poor slender bicep  with personal trainer  just want definition  not bulk  well defined  weaker than baby hamsters  a gallon of milk,  a loaf of bread,  a dozen eggs.  Plastic handles that cut off the circulation  to the fingertips  and subsequently  the brain  or...  'brams mang!'   voiced in the Puerto Rican dialect   of Louie, my friend   From over 30 summers ago He who is also very fond of the idea Of being directly descendant  from a tribe of Indians  somewhere in the Bronx,  but nowhere just somewhere  a magic tribe  Of round, cuddly, curly headed Louies  All smoking peace pipes filled with Avenue ...

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....

Feasting on Both (Fast Food & Organic) Freedom & Liberty Fed on a steady diet Of river rats lashed together On rafts moaning to escape Persecution by dictator  & political factions 'Give me your poor... Yearning to breathe free...' Peopled by the under-appreciated Cast out as slaves by their own Kings & rulers 'We saved our last monies For passage to America...' America is paradise for the persecuted This stronghold of democracy Why is it As Americans, when we visit Other countries, We notice what they DON'T have? "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" They come HERE! Everybody & everything We have it all Wall-to-wall I doubt whether 99% Of the world would allow Their country to be populated In a manner so thusly inspired As if some dream...

Against the Grain At times in our lives When everything spirals Out of control & beyond any semblance There seems a gnawing, nagging dread Egging us on It is alright to call me later on I am not in a bad mood simply typing with my voice while we're talking yes, audiocontrol I'm putting the words into the device hopefully the words will turn into something to help help people to defeat the negativity wow, they're going through the hardships of life The words in my room in my room and im pretty weird but true the word my room my room spirals and embraces old old also phone phone old home, who would hear it ? we know who Who would share it ? moon doom aurora massacre who would find Scrambling in front of them, know inside of them, sew them in so, Not let them go, Wh...