
Makeshift roadside attraction,
caters to fearful curiosity.

Makeshift roadside attraction,
caters to fearful curiosity.

If the discourse of enchantment
is most heartily encapsulated
in the prosperity message
of today’s megachurches,
the program of action is to
mitigate the social cost
of adjustment, which
rapidly depreciates that display -
a syncretic zodiac of variant sentiment.
Deep mythological resources charged
and ultimately
unsatisfying eschatology;
traverses space,
foreshadowing the demarcation
of time.
Fissure - just setting in
vicissitudes of characterization,
of horizontal archeologies
and spatial aggressions.

Cardboard bird man:
illusion of flight,
unburdened freedom;
a poet.

There are unseen forces that oppose
motivation and seek to douse
the flames of inspiration.
Sirens sound,
waking up the dead;
thieves are on the run,
self-deprivation seems
both a cosmic effect
and an ethical imperative.
Memories are fragile; they
invariably slip away,
are easily destroyed,
and as you know,
motivation can be elusive,
absorbing the potency
of the cosmic shift.
When you add information,
it becomes ambiguous;
an odious atmosphere of tobacco, earthly morality,
and pickles,
connoting nothing pejorative.
The difference between knowingness
and knowledge is only
the echo of its source;
this deliquescence into a
comprehensive resonance
is, like the slow
beating of a giant’s heart,
a declaration of ignorance.
Inhabiting a world of their own
the waitress grabs the old coot,
and with some music
and bogus spiritualism
she licks the last of
the whipped cream
off her fingers.

This cascading moment
down to the studs;
in its whisper
a tree
spreads its branches
to this time,
in this place,
being here
in rooted presence,
as the fog breaks it down
and makes it simple.

Recruited to this stage,
this time,
along the itinerary
of unfolding existence;
blown senseless by
the whoosh of traffic;
others speeding towards their own
uncertain destinations,
that’s their business.
You shake it off;
your stage awaits.
Climbing the steps of intuition
you come to your own rescue,
with a joke, a song, or
a tall tale.
Your confidence rests in knowing that
nobody is paying attention.

As the fog retreated
from its sloppy kiss
the mojo dance returned aflutter.
He wrapped his arm around
her neck,
and whispered
"you’re the only one."
She thought:
"I know,"
and tilted her head
towards his
in silence.

It’s the devout who can see clearly
through the restless scramble
of competing significance,
embracing the hard nut of certainty,
and making irritable fact and reason theirs.
Empathy be damned.
They cancel their passport to mystery,
stuck safely forever en route
along the borderlines
of disconnection.

Time out
from the jangle and disequilibrium,
outside communities,
pausing from
coercion of masks,
dictates of roles,
respite from having to
be someone,
be somewhere,
doing something.
Just being present,
to return
weightless
into the world.

Lorem Ipsum.
Need a lion, fruit, biochemicals and laughter.
Outdoor sapien football player.
But there is no lion.
Sometimes the jaws of manufacturing mass footballs and soccer
become arrows.
Notebook tastes of convenience, laughter.
Films deductible.
Each hydrogen broadcasts in the environment, but should not.
Lakes sit soft.
Mass manufacturing suspended or sterilized and will not free him.
Always microwave bananas and peanuts for a salad.
It is the present, grilled on television, with ghosts.
There is no need now for tomorrow.
Tweedledum and Tweedelee.
Lorem Ipsum.