her tone arm lightly. the anticipation of sonic erotica. lips sprayed with the captured breath of the now dead. leather binds keep her in place, in position. the speakers mounted on the ceiling of the gymnasium blare out the weather. weaved into every book is a hair from the top of the head. love is that much. excruciating. a thimbleful can eliminate the world. radio appendage tuning in the azure of this uglier dictionary. it is an elaborate sojourn with built-in acquaintance, something stealthy, and socially quirky. the pool table is a directional disappointment. a scrimmage of fathoms sporting around on your campus. A flag happy curmudgeon dribbles the flecks slowly from his once tightly clenched hand.

what restrains a super power after guilt has lost its charm. the sleek exterior of splayed softness. a dixie cup dispenser of oblivion, little morsels, little meds. ablutions of the mind as an egregious religious ritual. as a window sill is a place for elbows, so should a beach be a horizontal wonderment without the diesel fumes of military aggression. an ultimate reprise written into historical text. some twist, some wisdom-strap holding things in place. not as is, but what will! The future of coagulation is calm entropy. it’s true, spikes of activity are unstoppable. only out of chaos does order emerge, not the other way around. the new poster is a phoneme. the new couch is a bubble. war, my dearest, is the open air and how it occurs. how is a wolf to cease hunting? it cannot. no animal is better or less enlightened than any other. horticulture is a neighborhood of sleeping. wake your dreams. johnny b. goodie. the pleasure of jump ness. bridge of thwack. if it digits, will it gidgets? gadgets? targets? the quiver shakes the very area. an unplugged brain is more dangerous than any taxpayer. I am flurries. the zeal of atonement. try to kill not or try something different for once. newspapers are new no more. same old same old. blood everywhere and then the clean up.

the herald, the mounted crown of mountain laurel, meet the solipsistic era. same as the old solipsistic era. the curmudgeon apostrophe dangles over the still water of wafers. almost derisive this flattened missive attuned to the crisp frequency of obliteration. cough, cough. The plumage decorates the inner lung of alfonso. neon fiancée of squeegee brothel. autumnal barks down the block, twig infested columns lean into dark. the yo-yo, the yum-yum, the ping pong of dust. from me to you, from me to you, from me to you, and the shiver of non obstructed valence. a hover buoyant reality. you will harness vitriol for generating an appliance. a kite too. a benjamin, a franklin. one hundred assumptions painted in dollar green ink. a puzzle of offerings. A channel of faucets. a sung pulley of adroit varsity sportsters. a found subscription of literary rareness. from vignettes to new jersey. The overage is destined for somewhere between pause and off. off now. Off now gone. off now gone bye. see ya bye. a solipsistic devil slips through your destiny. there you go. a repetition of utterance. the utter silence of repeating it. it deletes itself.

zaumist children chalk drawing in the corner. appeal of shiny commercials to the smaller digits. you have learned how to place your silverware. now you fidget over your spare change. gazing, wafting, high mirth in a can. those pencil sketches of old new york. pre nines, pre elevens. pre teens have lessened for now their crazy rage, but wait. But wilt. but wont you shake the nascent bones and ‘lectric akimbo production of how all knowledge alights on the forehead of those in preparation of sudden termination. kinda nuclear. kinda spiritual.

addendum

the brutality is floundering as excessive ad campaigns lose their sting and vitality. a beautifully proportioned finch delicately immersed in a vat of albumen. and war, my dear watson, has become a human necessity. as with current musical trends, they too find the power of miracles a mere bonus feature. available, attainable. not knowing the tsunami of applause, martha seeks moisture, as martha is anyone. logging on is our financial privilege, is our culture of dominance. as we achieve dominion over it, it will be our undoing. and then the return of the trance and its unstable politic. the means by which we meander, by which we become blind but to the singularly offered beam of light. and this intended beam is not a discovery, not a found brilliance, but the fabrication of the temporary ability to mute brain functions. to suspend mentality. To freeze logic. to under whelm the nervous empire. how else the beast to sleep. how else this program delete. and war is the knowing, the depth of plunge.