WORLD PISS POWERED BY PROSE TOOLS.

Editing a BAROKE collection of wrots drawn up togather.

"The most effective pre-computer rendition of quantum-digital art was to be found in a certain low-life high-tech style of spontaneous, cool, subjective, improvisational sound waves produced by a small group of black audio engineers. Jazz suddenly popped up at the height of the industrial age, eroding its linear values and noninteractive styles. -- Dr. Timoth Leary.

Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a last a loved a long the - James Joyce, Finnegans Wake.”

“Cleopatra wrote of currency,
Versus who scatter old records
ignoring the HSIEN form
and jump to the winning side.–Ezra Pound, Canto LXXXV.

Towords an MPHDJ method.

Prose turntables and mixer of Correspundance. A Knu Tribal Encyklopedial of changes, odes, rights and histories for time-space playback. New Tools to interlock with the Beastly Rhythm; the rhythm cutting time into space. Cutting into the vinyl discs of history from the great hall of records. An MPHDJ Telling the tale of the tribe fable with magical tools and a turn-tribe-table. I am for balance. Stereo. To be stable.

Sun and moon discs in motion to the patterns of petals and stars, branches and trees all spinning at various pace, the stylus finding the precise times-place. Backandfourth push and pulling forces. The Tao of PLUSH. The Sun appears to be spinning and shining all the spacetime. Night on earth seems just a pitch-shifting shadow. I am shining and spinning all the timespace so I guess that Death is just a pitch-shifting shadow too.

Knock yourself up proper on the head. Tap Tap Tap. Make one full 360 degree turn either to the right or to the left. Run your ring-finger, middle and index fingers past your thumb like when your crab scratching at the cross-fader, for that triplet effect, and then say the words “On turntables as it is in Heaven. On Vinyl as it is on Earth. Turning forever and ever. Oar-men.” Now sit down. Relax. Revolutionize your thinking.

To help formulate a question or meditation i usually drop coins from my mouth onto each turntable platter thrice, casting an I-Ching Hexagram reading for that particular moment in space-time. 3 coins (1 Euro, 1 Pound, 25 cents) dropped six times. Following the King Wen Sequence of the traditional I-Ching divination process i proceed, along with 64 words of genetic code and coincidance in my mind indestructible.

MPHDJ Initiate of the greater mysteries communicating forces with frantic hand gestures and pagan poetry and some sensibility to form MPHDJ weapuns of task construction. Prose Tools. Forming a new hocus stereo focus between the expanding psyche (blue shift) and the expanding universe (red shift). I am for balance, peace and communication.

DRUMSTICK WAND of FIRE. SOUTHERN EYE-LASH BRUSH FOR SIGHT-SEEING. FUN 0’GRAPH RECORDISC of EARTH. FINGER TOUCHING AND SCRATCHING SYMBOLS IN A NORTHERN DIRECTION. DRUMUG of WATER. THE TASTING TONGUE LICKS THE MIRROR MOVING WEST. STYLUS SWORD of AIR. SMELL THE EASTERN WIND WITH A STYLUS NOSE TIP. TURNTABLE of SPIRIT. EVERYWARE INVISIBLE. BLUE-TOOTH WEATHER COMING FROM ALL QUARTERS. OMNIDIRECTIONAL

Disc Jockeys united. Awake and now standing up erect as styli. DJ Geomancy in the air with fingers and minds tracer. Chanting to all regalia. Scratch and juggle shapes and patterns from the turntable platter to the air-space-time and vice-versa. Write a pentagram within a circle. Now try a unicursal hexagram. Who are you and where do your thoughts go when you think of them? Your author discovered today for example that he (IS) in some sense a half-Irish, half-Englishman residing in Amsterdam in the process of developing MPHDJ disc/seal/calendars and a mixer for a lecture on the tale of the tribe.

Rotate your imaginary air-canvas on its horizontal axis and continue invoking and banishing forces, with statesmanship and compassion. Do what thou will. You can charge up the discs while they are spinning on the turntable platter. You can sing your lungs out to the planets and stars, saying magical motto. Pull funny and absurd faces while looking down at the revolutionary disc/seal/calendar/sigil. The disc may have a reflective surface. Imagine a bright flame between you and the disc. Ask yourself who you are and where are your thoughts going today? fly agaric 23, maybelogic.

Prose Tools bound in red, yellow, blue and green silk threads, proof that i know what i am stewing. I resort to the language of symbols in these times of TSOG and their wars. Make peace on walls with LING, a great new sensibility. Peace comes of communication. Rotation and the changes bring on the new ages. After all else has gone, i am that which remains.

Planetary forces will be invoked and banished daily by new turntable operators worldwide. Hands off wireless blue-toothing everyware? crossed-wires, crossed paths. I saw the head DJ’s that ever battle against one another, so that all their thought is a confusion. DJ’s working together to balance the forces. More than symbolic games, turntable healing. Thou has appeared to m huge and allmazifull, the Lord of Time, bearing a sharp stylus sickle atop the heavenly wheels wearing flaming armour, with sword and shield-discs, drums and brushes, triumphantly crowned with the ROTA table. But i was not deceived by these, i cast them all aside and said “begone”.

Thou transformed ABRAHADABRA INTO AMANTAMCARA to unify the microcosmic five and the macrocosmic six with Amanita Muscaria. But even this mighty mushroom deceived me knot. Let those tools be prose Tools. Tables to Tables to cables and back to back to the mixer. On Vinyl as it is on Earth. Turning forever and ever. Oar-men.

Oh Oh oh my Gud! Unity is fly Buginning! Unity is fly Spirit, and fly Purmutation Unity! let me un-veil my fly acrillic gloss.

–Fly Agaric 23
MPHDJ. “fly’.
(FROM MAYBE QUARTERLY. THE PAPERBACK EDITION. 2008)

COPYLIFT TO XXI Edition.

--$₮€∨€₪ √∆₥€$ ℗®∧₮₮.

Copeeleft Fly Agaric 23. All Rights Re-served. No part of this book, in part or whole, may be reproduced, transmitted, or utilized, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the the Author, except for brief quotations in critical articles, books and reviews. Fnord. contact: flyagaric23@googlemail.com.

WORLD PISS. CHAPTER 1. Worlds Past: The Blurry of the Verbs.

WORLD PISS. Spore of the words. By Steven "fly agaric 23" Pratt.
PUBLISHED AS AN OPEN SAUCE BLOGJECT. All Rights Re-served. Copyright fly agaric 23. 2009.
Not sold in ©or℗o®ate h¥₱€r₥ark€₮$.

1. Swimming
2. Δp❍ll❍
3. Ri√Ξr
4. Amrita
5. M❍❍n
6. AppLΞs
7. Turntable
   
8. BriDGΞ
9. DΩlphin
10. ManurΞ
11. Aries
12. Cup Drum
13. Thoth
14. Sun
15. Paras❍l
16. Birch
17. Micr❍ph❍nΞ
18. CymBaLs
19. ZΞus
20. Discs
21. Brushes
22. FliΞs
23. Stylus
24. ThΞirium
25. T❍aD
26. Macintosh
27. Shopping Trolly
    
28. Fly Agaric
29. G❍LD
30. Sil√Ξr

Book I.
Chapter I.

"A change in language can transform our apprehension of the cosmos" -- Benjamin Lee Whorf

For Tea! EveVital. Adamending time. A silver and Gold bank heist. Libra scales to re-even the Universe. Two eyes to stabilize the tail blaze mazing grass shoots to Everest her shelfllyness. “Ninebinding fire. And this and that for the code. (break) Talevenom. Snake or a toadshake?” Rosé word juice. RISING RUST. Three times three cups of coolfinnale. Indian salt-rock and solid ground pepperol bound with cable-twine. Norrate my tit fur tattle tale chase across dale space and mountain, the general heart (whats going on) from old start to New Yurkinverse finnish and then around the pivotal middle part of the ride agrain.

Seriolcomically graytinge the audience (oh to have got this far) in a more and less almaziful exsponged universe, all under one merry woof. Cooking up rhymeless potato bits in their skins. Eat and fill you belieaf system with a ftpall tale. Some original sun of one original star. Recalli everyway of grain in infinite bamboo.

Cleanse tables with tumble minners. Plough stars, fields, grooves, canals, rivers, paths with a new stylus. Change your mind, change your stylus. Place the fonodisk on the turmtable mat sigil. Press power switch button provided at rear panel to the "ON" position. Remove any styli' protector. Push the start/stop button, (harder) the platter will start to revolve like the solar system. (Turntable). Move the tone-army to a good striking position over the record-disc. Put it down, put it DAWN on disc sigil. Playback of your recording will begin. Settle the speed to 33 1/3rpm or 45rpm with the "S"peed selection switch

To enable different interpretations of the disk. Move tone-arm to the armrest, take a break, when play has finished. Take a break. Push the start/stop button again and platter will stop/start. Like mind woot remains eternal process. Turn off the power. What remains? power. Now, Start again, now going down to your crossreads with old spirits like Robert Johnson. Revolving phonograph records from the lost legendary tomb of Osirius Irises. So hire us. A sea of Irises. Eye lid of the tomb open. Some late lost recording sessions last heard by human ears in 1963 to turn eons over night. Nine seal/calendars glisten, KNU dawn. Neinsten. Elvintwelve. This poem intended to be set out on the concentric revolving wheels of steel. Rawitherio.

And now the Eighteenth edition. July folly. 8/8/8 marks the bugining of a KNU woid Weasty beast. East West = Weast so rise like young bread loaves or a cock. Serve up my piece in seasoned sensimi buns, plenty advacado for the greening. Yin the begreening was the herb and the herb was grown fresh. Dang! Little Ms. Higgs and her Mayo-theory sucks it good. She's good to go down with me. Loosen' up her gob so she can hold down the cutting space job. Yo, sis what "iS" the prognosis? isness maybe an illness said ISIS. Cannabis Metempsychosis a Knu cure for the clap? The doc' said to me on thursday it might be Psychoneurosis So i went hΩme and read Pythagorus and smoked supergrass. Maybe psychobiology or neuro-psycho comedy? Cannabis Psychosis, Me or the plant that maybe the mystory? I am that which remains. You maybe what you don't shit. Thinking and feeling may not be divided so simply man, Mankind and nature, mind and matter all bleed into each other n' ceed one another. Mind and matter attractor one another. Diamond tipped Stylus, arcing. Snatching the Moon with the hand. Scratching the Sunfinger. Kite Messajair. Pass the Pea soup buddy, wash your hands after taking the piss, hide your them crying eyes. Surf the wake now, catch it, again, hatchit out here (Scratch routine) Spun backwords and 4words. All quartermans. Following a calendar craft to Naxos. Where love sets the S☀n

Open mouth drummers and jugglers Spin fluffy heart and sound head gonga puja., Four footed drummers. Sticky Poster bed of dreams. The skystarscape of Joy's barrel. Bound to happen like a bank krash. To Bond like crime families. Flemming and Donovan sickness. Become the psybercriminister of your new KULTURE. make friends of flesh, blood and strong backbone.

Turn word into gas. Our men alchemicalander OH! men. No less. A lisp. Where have your thoughts gone today? where has the pontiff of gone? Measure the shine of Sun and the Moon? What you got in the bank saved up? Tidal waves and Calendar reform. Reformation. Solar star burst blazing bird, burning paradise, ablaze. Now wet. Myceiling running of with the gloss. Creamy woolen gloss, grown in sheep shit.✐

Coordinates ↵ Berlin 1936. Rapallo. New York. Meeting in Hong Kong in June 16th 2009. GΩDiturΒΞR coordinates ➚ to equal 9.9.99.9:09. Testing testing. 8/8/8 missed. 9/9/9 dialled. Body of an idea Tattooed with pimples pointing ↕ to veins joining achilles historical bones and muscles together to make a new man, to make a new body of work whole. You'll see the novel. All history pressed together on a 78' in 09. Slowed down and spun backwords into the web. AMANTA MCARA. 5 & 6. THEN THE 384 words. Then 150 NOW images. Then the 250 NOW RADICALS. Swords sharp with style carefully concealed on a tortoise shell. These rhymes smell of corpsemanure. Calendar eclipse every hour, as you blink. Banks sign blanks. Birth of life and death every hour mind sours itself aweighting the tang. Minute, second-line beat. Of the street. Taste sweet to taste stour, now and then i still do. Start and Stopang . Always on. Needle drop like plough shares of the groove crops. Style drops , sweet like honeysuckle rose lozenge, honey of August 11th 1999, me upon St.

Michael's Mount with a drum head full of Clee'. Ken Kessey in Great Britain on eternal yellow bus trip over the cliff yops. 1999 culture blossoms on the trees of technology. Minidisc. Records of art and music. Getting high and making fun. The Rise of electromedia culture, rave festivals. Millennium on the horizon. I felt the tingle of a new day. 1999 culture blooming everywhere. The worlds poets stir. A Calendar shift. And a political shaft. A paradigm spift. Y2K bugs and lies. Government marketing on the new Y2K market. turned Y2K bug could be the Bush family. An unjust king is like a river without water.

Yew mite Fly before you have wings. Flea before you get nits. Tie a knot in Browns shoelice. Here Comes Everytea. Hold on while i atrickllout the emrgency vitaminute exit. SΩme hot, some not so velvety, not so heavy on the gravy tea, you feel the difference? recipe was passed around in an old middle English art museum like a Chinese whisper bar. Better watch yer time piece goin' in. (Geoglyfly-Tunes play loud) Garaj Banned! No parking in the Garaj. Hyperedited diarrhea on Fli-tunes. Shut down. Fli-book. Shot dawn. Past/present/not sure. Torture TV.

Vinylcyclic records totally recalled around. Disc world novel on progrist to the grindscore. Reversed imagineering, turning of the tongue screw driver. Combine and harvest her. ➚ Termtablists↑ Matching rotation, balance. Starting from scratching a surface tension, juggling with a talking and sound writing machine shinny. Radio-phonograph to make harmony of my ideograh feet tea. hehe. combo? nearly got it...Big idea, a jumbo Olympic novel of a tribe.

Adjustment of Horizontal Zero Balance critical. Innovative hi-Disk jockey on one hand, Marijuana psychosister blissjunky on the other. And a hidden hand. Locked up by jawtrap to a wordwyde web of intrigue. Breaking free from the industrial military market €co₦o₥y. Free as a fish. Signing off. splish splash, SJP Logged OUT the bloggs. You log out too. And Uprise update. Relevution. Publish and Surprise = informansion. Up like gas. A good haze, fungraphs retranslate inpot 21/12/6012 into flux'd up GUCT fields: Great Untied ConspiracyTextyle. Everythink. Only a mad-man is absolutely sure. Textstyle stolen from dog and cat pitter patterns. Up the Spirit. Rain. The moisture charge. Up! Living and dead. Get up with it! Here.

Calculations for a calendar pressed onto hemp-vinyl records 423. 9/9/99 g.o.d.i.s.t.u.r.b.e.r birthed a funny kind of spicetyme Bridge and croxxed over into software everyware. Skysoft Machine outyerface. The Nine's crossed over what? A ∜ine-hole to the Year Zero Zeroine. Aha...She in the cheese moon pulling it all in like a blog hole into history History! Misty memoirs sandwhiched. That bloody great dictionary of fundamental materialist facts incidentally recorded, now remixed on Mac's✎.

Everything and nothing swim everyware now, now in a Web deW 3D spice world. And then in 1936. And now 2019. So, lets' milk it a bit, suck on the tit with the spirit of capitalisimo (spits over shoulder). Massage the udder of all holy cows. Everything vanished. Cityscape varnished. Can you sell emptyness and space? SKYsoft hardball. Bank krash and rush to war. Ephemeral beings of deconstruction are eating reality. Butter not all of it, some. Phew, allmen. No authority can contain the froth coming all over, fluffy poodle furr and some bristles, pink nozzle cap to paint your puzzle black and write whats left. Stuck. When we have the interΩet we want, we will have no internet at all, Terence Mckenna once said.

First dei of the last Gnu Calendar becomes the fist newen day of a slashing re:∜olution. YOUR re∛olution. Guitars, Guns and Mcdope tales. The Daytoday everyday anyway everywhy. Now and Zenarch¥. Come find yourself in Real muntea-leaves left on the bottom of the China cup. Wordsmanship Sail it don't sell it. Free freestyle. Unleash the hounds. Pastaphysical' dazetyme. Versespice brewing in Escher's gra∛Υ-tea-pot. Putting the sky and her soft thigh's in the brew, a tricky task t get it all in the flask. The brew maybe, after all just the BREW.

A good high is from brews that stay brews. Taste cuts through the mask to the tang of the tribe. Lungterm calendoor open. Goods and gods exchanged at the market and men living and dead pass between media hosts. Para-webasites. Hosting media in their wallet made from houndog hide. Here have it. Ξver changing. Free energy, energy from the ❂cean movements! I imagine I'm on a raft smoking Chronic see-weed for survival of the seediest sentences. Web deW. √otion i-deep heat gets into your joints.

Winter windtaos glossed with writers frost. Writers block of ice melted and full of arctic Krillic. Ice flakes flaking like flaky pastry from grandmothers pencil in the moldy basemint lozenge. Madkind she was, and hir' Grit untied connexxtion with sΩme helper plants and industrious animal ancient waste management was exemplary.


Ruby cheery and technicolor pips in the cediment to revitalize Government. The Hempire writes back. New smoke. New vapor. Telepathick internet and the midwife rapping to get high. Misty models and Modus MBC development metaphors, so vape me on v'ape and rise! Poo word ΞntheΩ-genick of Cussa"out the bottle" Knit-Language Knot-slangwage servers & servers. Interknit. Outerknot. Jewels hidden in the Grind Oriented Jungle, hydin' Hedgerows and weary ways along powerful cafe' mocha swirl Bayou'. Rowan Berries and red breasted birds meet in Burgundy. Cats in Eve's garden fight for ginger snaps.

Ape's gobbling fermented fruits in their ape suits, Flies ice skate upon the fungus and continue rehabilitating the shitty environment of this page. Engage the age of critical political outrage. Revolved and evolved to resolve and remold such untold cold crap. Unfold this rap and Speakers erupt explosively, chaotically, symmetricalifornia dreaming. (THCeiling running) Sing, shout, dance boom, write through the dark Knight of the hole, breath Words with wings & fly thousands of miles.

I Cultivate plenty of fragrant dreampot & plant Δ galaxy of ..... with linguisticum & sweet grass on the puckered lips of a cliff ridge. HΩmegrwn. Wild Δstral winds carry spores of Δngelica The Magic plants grow tall with luxuriant stalks and sleeves. The author can reap these interacting media for psychological Medicinal and Mythological study when they come up. Fli laments when they go degenerate like withering Glovernment$ that criminalize Gods ancient Λmbrosias. Dressed in a suit Made up of fire-water magic barks buds and shrΩΩms. These misunderstandings do not phase me so long as i remain lofty and honest. Dropping on a high official hat i adorn myself with ornaments Crystal Snakes Feathered Eagles Jeweled Toads Pink Dolphins Fruit flies Red Ants Black Panthers.

i lament when my fragrant fragments get mangled with the filthy Aristotelian News pre$$. My moral characters are never harmed and corrupted. New Woid born perfect and pure. GraffItI Bastards from Artemisia Mountain, you'll see, at peach dawn flying. I Arrive at Machu Picchu around blue dusk grapes. i enjoy a full $top. Facing engraved gates of an immortals' Temple--the sun set-tango--i order Ronin' the chauffeur of the sun of sΩme good or another to levitate his holy lawnmower, so avoiding the Machu Picchu Mountain Where the son comes in and sets like honey along the long winding and Far-far reaching mellow brick toad-path, up up to ◗ha❍sm❍s' and down to botanical terra i will seek Hallµcinations↵

Ad finitum. Irises Osiriuses. Coming out from the United Snakes a market system that rewards those who wield the most power. Mostly white and mostly male market power. Bull market shitters. Some make it to other lands, Some don't. But around the turning of the 21st century in the kindred spirit of participatary self-management these calloused fingers press down on the pen in my hand. Ad Astra A Priori. To swim with the stars and what came before them. I am the O.O.O.ZE that remains.

A Monk with a Bird on a Trane for Miles daydreams...Blue thunder thumbs hammertime at the half notes, Weeping willow greyellow looking pretty Wes Montgomery. Art Blakey's drums of experience, Stix glossinging to animal skinheads. Like a Taoist typesetter Thelonious fingers do the talking. Hornet Coltrane Ellington. Fitzgerald Pharaoh, the New jazz era. Annali√ia Elvin Jones. Afro-Jazz machine setter. Smiling physicist. Growl Unifried C'onspiracy Theory of music. Hall of Records. Irise Osirises. A Unifried sound-field theory device, a recipe, or sheets of sound? John Coltrane the sub-atomic physicist. GUCT Professor. Alice Coltrane - timetraveling. Mother Harpist, Mythological scholar goddess. Kept Reel McCoy - Ravi Pharaoh Moffet Harland - theology goods. inside the wheels of funk - Sissy strutin spun Clockwork - Meters reformation. ESP direct sustained Magus. Miles ahead. Above, and beyonder. Maybe thats what you wanted? Potting string theory quilted with great united "Jolly Grant Green Fields of Golden fibers. Charlie Bird, Donald Byrd. Playing babyskyblue spells, Birds flew far. Wind and the stars. Eris D. messaging semtext through Thymine, add nine to Fli-sightozine, glossed flash-magazine, clips, amino Aceed in the out-House. Her, her seemingly her. Hot, spicy. HOT. i run to the loo to vindicate my Manhattan with Projectile vomit. New Principles of Pist modem' ☏ kulture, always "on". The floor sleeping. Suspended from a Newyorkshire washing line, drying in the wind with my aunties blΩΩmers my Dad's sock draws and my Mothers shoe rack, and my Sisters summer collection and the baby skyest blue boy clothes. Notooth animations. To combat .Gov profiling for their hypermarket world ✠rder requirements. Myjams as a guide for reconfiguring realtea with gravy tea. United brewing. Cook. Garden home to 7 billion l❁ve critters. Stirred up with a quest for cream to cover Oatybix.

thoughts disappear into spice's shorts. Spice sprinkled onto half an apple. Me, myspice and Fli-pod? Wires to my ears computer entangled like kites mangled in a sughurricane. RnAngel messenger on the wind. Ribbon Zoe. Knotted panties. Moisture, curvature of a saddle. Me mind spiraling criss crossed from my hip to my head. I ate a jovial turntable companion with a good memoria.

"For all their faults. I am passing out. O bitter ending!" - James Joyce.

Puns n' Mcdope. Salt rush to the river, no, reverse that. Two revoluti❁ns spinknittin' upon deux Term-tea-bell pla☤☤ers. Duality-duality man. Two wet tongues to take shortcuts. Mouth cavity, eye, wing. a termhole opens to another world-word. Clicking and whistlung Synchronosly like Flipper “in-phase” with one another. Termteabells rung, sung our Knu worlda sang. A sweaty stink-footnote to the Porpoise corpus. Spinning dubble. 32 copies of noodle soup-string theory sealed into vinyl records. 64 sides. Or 39 records to have 78 sides, maybe playing a 78 RPM. Stacked and nestled together like C.D's. Phonographic Motherplatters: old technotronic green dinner plate spinning and serving up bite sized revolutions. Mensa Prima. Maybe-vinyl maybe no longer viable as a medium of the TT tribe on purely environmental grounds. Vinyl records made from oil grinds. And blood in the compound. Final scratch please be my bitch. A plastic culture or a siliconture? Spinning my mind to Hemp vinyl solutions down the river, records Molded on Cusp. Pressed on the Bough. Signed sealed delivered. its Jawz in 3₫. Edible records maybe next. Smelly records. See scratch and sniff. Nutritious compounds that hold permutations of words into mumbers and vibrations and 1’s and Zer❂s. A back-machine-back time. Knowwhat i mean-time. Organism-as-whole turns books/albums into ingredients mixing toolz to Cruz like time bandits; bound in hemp fiber and vinyl and tree beard trimmings, phoenix rising through acrilacyclic innovations. illustrated by beatboxers and scatters, rappers, hornspeople, turntablasts, and psychotic canal bus folks. From beneath the Lodged stone in the old creek a water-bugs mitten has reached into the sun light. Unwrappin its neurological harpoons. Reaching other suns, planets, cΩmets and moons. Lampooning hooks fishing for ole illuminatea cooking books on the shelf next to the tea. i have 123 text files open and A'Dam"s weed eve'ryware. HΞRΞ CΩmes ΞvΞrybody in their metempsychosis. A last surge against fundamentalist materialism. in defense of dream. The Utopia Psychosis. The experience and realization of ϕur desires. In a silent way Miles runs down the voodoo.

Who talks a lot at the turntable will leave it hungry. Eat Agarik, its some kind of fungus from the Latin agaricum, from Greek agarikon. This maybe my Agarik❂nspiracy file. Sweet Flock whore. Dramatic fanatic idiotic robotic word machine comes clean. Whistle Pissing Sonata. Stoned melodramatic agaric. All that is, is metaphor. Acrillic figa it out yo! Axi❂matoxic in high does. Aromatic agaric but toxic. Turntable static tingle taste of Agaric. Wholly Cha❁! Cinematic stinking Fungus, fun gloss agaric antibiotic, auntie bionic, old tea, drink and be merry agaric, speaking semi-automatic and almost hypnotic toxic, toxicating, intoxicating, symbiotic intoxicating king of beers, and sewers. Turning to Howords Way and immediate spacetime date tinter technology, lung wordsmanships but bogged down in a war on culture. Language and sensibility. They put holes in my raft. Hegemony, monotony, monogamy. Sturch choirs in chorus. The Spooks that spiked us? Straight authority figurines. DO Poetry, Join the Battle of the ₣rench Canadian Bean Field Souper men. Make it KNu. A stew. Make it brew Ha Ha. Unstoppable. Unknowable. Unthinkable. Your Mom. Love. Sweet FA spray particles of rim. Nine portals "driving storm" to Butter-table-minster. 1776: Starport "licks". Forged keys. Unlicked lockgates. acrillacked restraint. Daisy-chain makers arms scaffolded. Lock, key, gate. Bow, crescent, chicane and curve. TAO BE LATE! Who banks with river banks anymore anymore. Oh shit Diaper backward spells repaid. Who's getting laid and paid with aid.

Sir Cuxmscribe this? circulation round that, the hole universe? Coercing verse “ching” rhymes into no time at all. Inhale of the gob. “Alpine celery scented Wine-tenths of the law of the smell” Youniversang maybe at-tension and terse” ”Maybe we traverse faith-based purse pirates with pens. Swallowed hole by the GOO.” OmniversO to word routes. Touching nine advice adversaries. Writing for L’Amor, without payment. For word, beast and play! Moneyverse contains a maybe. Unsubscribe from the ingsoc tribes in exchange at nine months from 0mega 12 date without any issue. Now, lazing atop the mathface of Everest, hot rock the page and the hole universe opens into a flaming chorus quite cozy. Old wire strings threaded, Cotton threaded, Maze, pea vine And air music--Threaded into a Delta Frog Chorus. The commodity culture snakes in their fancy lear jet-planes, with their red-whisky snarl, sitting in a silver rimmed black leather chair Signing-up entertainment. The commodity culture snakes set ambush...waiting for their steer to get plump.

Then POP. Brooklyn, NY, London, UK Rave culture, Hip Hop culture Electronic music culture, Hijacked by snakes, A slippery contract, Criminal Justic Bill Delivered with a red Lizards smile. Starve em' drug em' Deprive them of balanced taoist principles Fatten them for POP! Military-Industrial-Agricultural-Media snakes. Silver surf Washboards, penny-whistles abalaze Glimmering tin wash-pots Pans and wooden framed devices, SΩmething to tap that beat from the air Something to Snap that moment in half, and in half again. To be watching together, Fat snakes slither off with the sacred--Cultural artifacts and our songs, now made in their image as their motherfucking songs. The living are denied a turntable; the dead get a whole DJ coffin. Re-Recorded, renamed, re-interpreted, Stamped. Claimed. Secured. Time-date stamped. Officialized. Cock blocked. Serp means "to creep". A single conversation across the turntable with a wise mon maybe worth a month's study of books. Blook who talking.

Unfurnished symphony of Galactic randyrants including sΩme Tabala, Termteabell, Bass and Drums inspirations. Some riverrunning stink-footnotes: Poisonous in high doses but psychedelic (or at least deleriant) in small quantities. Why read on? Don't you want to know what happens to me, who Penzme? “it’s incomprehensible it's transcendent, so, who knows?” Stephen bleeding apple “prose” Logic because sir... i wish to avoid steppin on Kant's TOE's. Mebbe Telemachus Sneezed because a ₤ly got up his nose. FL-I exploit Reason Looping quantum gravy-tea and cakewalk around the wok. At a round turntable there is no dispute about place. Digital feedbackfeed for the quackenbush's. Myway Mλspace Metempsychosis and "i". Hot green Flasks and a "V" masks, a novel on a plastercast. Fancy diamond encrusted ruck sacks on Santa's back. More back-feed for the sheeple, ya herd two records backtoback and into phase woid. What do you turn on, when you turn on? Sweetspots on yr/ tongue have sealed a saliva penship crafting sound bubbles of uncles Quantum Stubble field (ft.1) (Slingshot FLY). Agaric whipping a particular side of the funk, X-Y-Z under the leaky sink pipe. Witch side you on? i got a billion things to do with just one Euro.

Now i work as a mcdope dealer. A Golden Apple-logic juice bar - citrusapple-saap with the flying ointment? Ya with Pro-Logic sauce and green-tooth fairies and their Fli-Phones you build your TAZ zones. Nobody told us either that their would be days like these. August the wind whipping down and the Apple and the dumper-tree and the wind again, i the wynd Teleplugafunkin zip files full of flies crook of lies. True DAT. Teleport miss-elves as flies like brundle through time on a termtrible spindle (Axis) and so everyone else too not just me but you all into the future, as Sonny Ra did! Peacefully with music and just 111 quantum gravy-tea bags! A beautiful old 1976 “Seal Calendar" (Vinyl record) from the year of Dragon,

23ml boiling water, a Tzolkin mop, Finnegans Wake, i mean not to drag on, two FLi-Pods, a lighter, green-tooth wyrelisp, Two Tribetable Tanks, a “to be designed” KiTEBANNER! saying "The Answer"" Sackremnets, pillows and as much fresh fruit as you can muster into your jacket pockets. Like it or not your coming along. At Noon blootooth Apples 21/12/2012.✜ Spring pushes a-head, Un-born. Seed of coiled soil.

Fable spun and fumbled on a Churnteabell. Chair ladder winding up to the cherch of starry wisdΩme, Vinyl of soul flux serpentia, de:chorded, skinned, brewed and Buried in the heart of the Eagles nest like Gehlen. Langdon toun languaging to stay awake, awake in the smoke, Shemanism and the spinning sheminism speeds up post millennium.

The great unwine. Spundigits cast great yarns to the SKYgudz. Up skirts to god knows where. Early Spring Blossoming LING. Eternal flower Power, pink flower chirpsong lamint. Li Sao. Peace RAW. End of WAR. Peace and thanks for the ride. Ewige Bloom and Craft. Revolution begins in the minds of the people's people people party PPPP. Anita kissed me on the temple of my mental. We started to process in sex sex cycles to heaven heaven heaven. Six cycles and sex cycles, over and over. Seven again. Angel engines blend hemp into polyvinyl elixirs. Babbling in brooks. Waiting for the blootooth storm. Cycling and wurring of Art's Sunbelts, turning like the clappers hands above rubbing and manipulating. Fingers burning red as nails. DJ/VJ lookingfor a wet BJ. SΩme hottie to rub on their dubs and set Sub keel to breaker breaker. A burnt out Tesla coil covered in mold on the hillside in the shape of my heart. Creeping fungus up Eve's 300 ft. axistree

Junglistening one, and not listening two you. The Birds. The Bees. ∄nd of history. Young table runts and Little Lab nutters invent new worlds, the bugginging of the word. New time as the Emerald tablets turn like candy mints around your pink gums. Many yarns away. Unravelling the lost lungwaj of tyme traveling shemanism. Vine looking threadlocks require keys to the doors to eternity, The sacred mushroom, please dont get croxx.

De-chording results from an aural reading: icaro-graff John Deechorded, unmasking the con-sealed national pleasure of Deception, detraction, contracts and contricks. Laser D'chirp Scribble. A decentral plot to prevent singing or telling the tribe with fresh gusto as the good ale And the good vibe. The brews and their absence from the news. Other than in the context of psychotropicture, death and negativity. Testing the sixth sense and the absence of presence. Like the woft of Absynth Da vine de:chorded.

Mycelium decorded. Guantummy toms entangle in our G U C T. A fuzzy chord rapped around and woven into whole cloth. Youknitted Superstring HAZE to make the truth. Knitting tales together of characters made from ole cloth. Stitch in time brings vine Flight-sigh indras net; spider Web deW hosting morning dew drops of star stuff, Fruit of the loomatick, spinning VRmL from her womb. To tackle the big problems i scrape the barrel. Ummm i smell what you mean steve. identical sacread twinnings,

Stephan and the Reel world reeling as the rechord spins in sync, counterclockwise down the sink. Reality undergoing update through metempsychosis. The D# chord beginagains to unravel the mystory fleece uncovering a Farce. Eight faced. Sounds goed. Grit is what it maybe. Love is the Neurolaw, LOVE under will.

If man be a river, then woman will be a bridge. You NUIT! Why swim against the Rivers flow o' pink salmon, yo, you awkword buggers, whatcha doin? Spore't for all you .Gov spokes machines say. Free Swimming facilities for every man, wΩmen and child on the planet, maybe some day? Just did it! Start planning your punning strategically.

➝ Read Lao Tzu aloud at your local zoo loo. think to feed and clothe' the world with words while your at it. Cover everybody, be sure to include everybody, not a man, women, child, or sentient creature left out. Swim. Keep floating now chile, hold on, keep afloat, keep your lungs full of air and hope, inspire, like big bag pipes. Vapor sacks full of ideas, let off in a haze like Tao and Joyce.

Fli write of Swimming knot winning. Joy of less gravity. One day a painted pool. Pissing. Like writing sensibly about music. Damn pissing. The rhythm the rhythm. You can't smash water. it moves. Smash the thing with a word-whig or whatever but still. Slack Country revolution in the minds of the people. Ain't nobody's music business what we do. Got to come in some word or another. Swimming appears action. Verb, a doing-process pool that everybody can relate to. Stroking Wet Verb that leaks for itself. Fluid-hydrodynamics, taking your heart mind, blood bones and pumps for a ride.

Swimming the metaphor for spreading Butterfly strokes, illuminated by the structure of its NAT-lungwaj, Slimy facts and springboard statistics tumble turnovers and leave behind tatty scraps of post web jizm. Nake with nothing to hide. Warts and all. On a beach with beads as the inteface to universal fabject matrix. me Steven Pratt as fly Agaric 23/Acrillic. Visualize Amazon, E-bay, Google, Wikipedia, Facebook, Myspace, Apple, Nasa, and as yet undefined "intelligence system" i am forced to call GUCT until next year. G U C T 30 “Seals.” My memory palace scatter'd scents. Letturd Word Peace.

Relax, easy glide past micro dot bubbles. Troubles melting ever-changing. Swimming lungwaj Swummu' has meaning to JAM's. Kicking out the Jams in a lake or ocean, the etymology visible. Swimming verbs. Upward fountains and in touch with the entire skin-surface, at all times. it retains the creative impulse and process, visible and at work. Swimming like a fish. Spacetime variables increase vastly when totally-immersed in a watery Ænvironment. Seven leg beats to one breath Gasping for oxygen, again, Seven kicks from each flipper, No gills, must breath oxygen, Swimming for liquid fitness, nogills.

Swimming seems hard to swallow. "is" comes from the Aryan root as, to breathe. isness is an illness, forgive me. "Be": from bhu, to grow." Leisure Swimming, free and easy basking. Times seem great in the Black Country. Leisure time and a leisure calendar enforced by the Leisure center between the eye socket. Rigorous exorcise for lung-bags and deep breathing apparatus. Legs, arms, neck, feet and torso too. Mind body spirit submerged with the other. Blood pumping and circulating; nutrition for the chakra leisure Centers.

Resurrection and uprising of the lyforce. Like the Tao, the more you fight it the more it overcomes you. Like Television & LSDJ's. Psychosis becomes Metempsychosis.

2012: 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic Probabilities of a Grit Conspiracϒ Against sombunal of the Religious Hypermarkets and Occupational Governments of the Weast. Stinkfoot. Pulled up from the murky depths with a winch by Grand Unified Cons.piracy Theory. All-ways in fluxperson narrative editing of connections. How to communicate it. Censoring postings and blocking messages, deleting files, immunity from the freedom of information act! NO That seems to block peaceful telecommunications.

Peace cΩmes of teletelecommunication. Calling all nations, calling all nations. Lazarus rising seems Symbiotic with Drosphilia behaviour after ingesting Spanish Fly. Treemaysons established May 1st 6006. in the hemple of the mental she spins to the Weast in cycles. Treemayson - fastest pollinating meme in the English language 2008. Become one or two with a global fraternity of upstanding well grounded tree Thothers and sisters. Join, get a tax cutting. A hanging basket of fl✾wers if you join before the Winter Solstice 2009.

Not sold in ©or℗o®ate h¥₱€r₥ark€₮$.

DREAM #1. 11.00 AM. 9:11:99. Jym Waterhose and myselfs are in a purple Vauxhall Polo going through the Malvern Hills on a mission. We pull up into a chalky gravel driveway; the rubber tires make a percussive crumpling rattling sound with the tiny pebbles. We meet our friend Mo, and some other Oriental looking people gathered around him who appeared very friendly. All inhabitants left the village in an instant. Another Oriental looking man appeared with a large, ornately decorated bowl containing multicolored mushrooms in many shapes and unfamiliar varieties. We combine a selection of the mushrooms into a large cooking pot and slowly bring it to the boil while chatting and greeting one another. The tea is served up into a shallow bowl for each of us. We sit and drink the magic tea.

WOnD Piece. CHAPTER 2. Wild Kush breath

Chapter II.

Every concept arises from the equation of unequal things. --Frederich Nietzsche.

Startish off on a syquest voyage to outer-states with a stylish Big Dada Vest on my chest. Prestige. Some simple scrumpaly home-brew and rolling tobacco. TV dreams and school college humor. Now i'm hooked humanitea. Can't seer tomorrow for the light of today today everyday. i eat special cakes that look kinda yellow, pun-cakes. i'm trippin' balls every hour, every day. Hooked on Hallucinogens, sometimes always often got something to say, strange and bent out of context, my adaptation. MywayMywhyMyme: God Doodle Damnbiguation in a Hazelknotshell! Ha! Caption of FW in cap under the sun in river with stone men. i have got the time though if you got the motion.

Always thinking conspiring convexly, always over complexly. My thoughts rise under the shower upstairs, thoughts of €conomic renaissance, how do i get that inn ear? Psychotropicture Analysissis. Who own my thoughts today, since the news changes so often we might all have madatory brain signiture scans within 3 years? But where to bugin? Born in a cross-fire Hurricane. Natural €conomic disorder, aha, yes. Turning trilateral quadruple, naturally. No choice or voice till 16 in 1992. Depreciating currency. Appreciating Hemp script. Fungal script and jungle bug script, dung script flax script all to keep my tongue ripped.

CHING MING.

Born into 1976 years of warfare, economic, religious, egocentric. Tripping with Frank Tippler Folly in a triptatknot world unholy, the whole worlds connected in ma' GUCT. i Feel it? Internut of things. Drum beats selected as the only pattern surprise. Mondo surprise shooting out the garage , blue-green bullet of greased speed. Nothing short of time-travel rejected. Cannabis Psychosis, a frozen vehicle. A Word poem apprehended by Metempsychosis. Surely if its all connected we just GO. Blogjects resurrected like Spielburgs E.T in that movie. Baited with hard candy. Baby Ruth for Hellboy. The ©on. wants paper money magic from John Dee all to themselves. Not a love and sharing of their honeynut loops. Not you or me, they want to use us as dupes. Troops. Stooges. Take a bow. Time and time again again. Dealer Mcdope resurrection. Anyway, music business, culture business. Bail out the bully banks. Stay on your toes. $tick your market €conomy up your a$$et$. £√∞ Doodle. Reach out for Trane's Giant Steps.

Its not at the turntable but in prison that you learn who your true friends are. Lots of dope in my sound system. Cracked out the Cookoos nest in my superstring vest under silver hazemoon, heading Weast into the dark nights citadel temple (Chief!) to take part in the acid test 2.0. 2.0. Crawled with the grey worms in their portals. Turning the soil into oil. Living in a Marsh, like tar in my hair, flour and soot mixed into temple towns past past. Walking through the park in the dark with i feel out of place tonight, like a narcotics law enforcement officer at a evolutionary biology lecture. My assimilation with a corporate nation, Capitalist Microphone calling out: Coax. No No No. Surrounded by knotted cables, berry and nutty dream fables. Stuck in my GUCT. A DJ shot high on doodley noodles? insurance for pets but none for Vietnam vets and on with my vomitourettes. Themselves in the melody again waking to this thread; black and white and half read mostly over and over. Bright technicolor model dreams: dreamramblecoat macintosh candy arms, jelly legs, oak moss malting in the Horus blaze of Orange Sun-juice. Threaded with Golden delight, a soft and fluffy jacket of arms.

Hemp. Nip it, slap it like stand up bass. Rhyme in the mud from the forests and the waterfall i rite rota DNA Sono-ropes for Eris, Wholly chao! Nine's crossed. A vine-hole to the grey Year Zero Zeroine. She in the cheese's crystal moon pulling it all in like a blog hole. History, that bloody dictionary of fundamental materialist facts incidentally recorded An ode to Eris for the Nine and for Elvis, the spirit of Rock n' Rolled up gods, full blood Budd, mixed tipsy turvey, little rad writing pad wearing a hood.

Everything and nothing everyware now in a WebdeW 3D spice. Internot of stuff. So lets milk it with the spirit of capitalism and virtual markeTANG. Massage the udder of all cows. Nip it. Everything vanished with timespace varnish. Gone gone gone. Can you sell emptyspace? SKY can! Ephemeral beings of deconstruction perpetually eating our reality. All of it, allmen. Oarmen. The vanity? No authority can contain the water Web 3D coming all over you with its slime and fluffy static. And sΩme bristles and a pink nozzle cap to paint your puzzle black. Nip it. Tuck it. Go ahead punk. Go find you Relative instruments. Who's the author × who's the reader.

Once the last tree is cut and the last river poisoned, you bastards will find you cannot eat your money. Swimming for immortality, vitality and to get laid. The final secret, you gotta eat it. Christmiss is is in this illness of issness that comes from all quarters around Christmas. Sinta Class and His zoo's.

30 Sliced up chunks Follow the stars. Plot Flygunnz resurrection. Mythological Christmoss times. new growth. i often wonder why Gene Zoo's and Santa Class appear together at Christmess time. i can see the devil in the wine. Quoffing scrumpture for his own porpoise. The Porpoise Corpus. Reindeer drinking amber Bliss with Contemplation. Four legs and five kegs - Animals and humans have been getting high on mother natures little helpers since way way before Timtim time ever introduced hims.elf. and the recipie.


Bliss hymn Christmoose timetable fabject' introduce itself as the "daytoday" of the birth of Goods for gods exchange rate' the moose son of god, Hemoose Christ. Four legs and some spicy piss. Three days after the winter solstice Santa Claus began to stop the wars. Angry at B☠sh and the world gangbangers, Santa appears everywhere at once around christmas time like Cliff Richards. But mixed with Kali and some vengeful deities.
Swords and knives sharp as sharks tooth.

Please, do not draw your s'word to kill a fly. Come EverywHere to deliver the "presents" 111 everywhere at once. He-moose the four legged Judge Dread, one blow from his hoof and your dead. Like postman pat. Moose delivers the punch. Purple Spicetied travel punch. Ohm Sporty-Zeus and Muchrooms all congregate around the winter Solstice Cauldron. Witches Cooking potions. The dead come alive at christmas time, celebrations. Christmas time seems to be a great celebration and happy time of year for most people living in inkgland. Jesuspected Santas cause was faith. Bad fairy faith in the religious consumer. Catholic priest's dress in their red/white color scheme, gold Jewls too. Inkland's flag has lost some blues. Snow and Mars. Dove and devils canyon. Christian Slyjackers. i think Gesus and Jon used to get pissed in the Pyramids ale house. Plotting the Lazarus hypothesis with snotty chatter. An Easter uprising Re:resurrection. if you think the world is coming to an end, shut your HELL hole up. Not war. Not conflict, No drama, the cream of mushroom soup curtains are drawing themselves. Lay down gently, Relax. Make love when you can. it's good for you. There can be no nouns, i only pee verbs.

PLEASE DO NOT insult the river gods while crossing the river, Thankyou--the MGT. Re-nuwell and redevelopment of Rivers clean enough to swim in to visualize and realize harmony everywhere. Without worry or negative "fear" induced states of mind. Free flowing mind going and cutting through the Slack country amber museyrumum welcome to the blu countree museyroom to be lovingly touched tasted and toasted back, retoasted multi seed feedback from live seedbanks nestled into River banks and canal embankments. What do you consider woff saying? ➝ Different species co-exist you might say, "any to any" they cooperate within their local social vortext. Went to see the River man, went to tell her all i can, about the plan, hydroelectric zero pint watermilling will begin with wet n' wild water spelling, using liquid hyperlight and magic metaphors of microtesttube narrative journeys around the imaginative palace of flewitt art.

Tsar bright eyes tongue made of blue stars. Coincidence? Synchronicity? ➚ Cosmic Hillary taste? just a taste. Wrestle with Malignant Extraterrestrials ➚ and Gawds while still scratching my face with fluffy gloves. Kitchen Ninjahs baking mysteries into edible puppets, action at a distance like ESP, effects from afar eye like star light, living laws of five, maybe nine till five? ninja telepathic radar, solid as iron bar, tuned in with her silver super-Dog star, vigilant like a patrol car, on track like a railroad car and her sweet music, the sounds of ninja on her old steel guitja. ninja health, like rain like a salad bar, or Sushi bar, or yugoslavian dinar. Government Puja pusher. Ninjah knows where what how and who you are. Left her Dogmas at the door. Telkepathic action-at-a-distance, ➘ knowledge from afar, star born ninja beings of the great ancient Chinese HIDDEN PERIOD. No kiddin' just playin' turns out city lights when travelling back through a time hole. Procrastination that pro-time theif. Turn you into a granola bar with my verse so far a crumbling strategy, and im just getting warm, waking up sons. aka Puller. Ninjah! ninjah! The words Wife world. Momma, youngest daughter, baby sister, favorite Auntie. Rah, Rah, Rah! Rest in Discord. world.

Resurrect an immortal Presence in absence? From late winter Spring timespice. Permanence in season change. Fallen, leaves winter. in permanence life in death. Early Spring Blossoming LiNG LING. Eternal flower power pink chirpsong lamint. Peace Robert Anton Wilson and thanks for the ride. "My pomtoms translate from Delphine into English, a microphone here in the control room sends our voices to the poem that translates into Delphine and broadcasts the correst sounds through the water to the reader." said Hagbard, Bloem. Flowers seem totally amazing today man. The spore of the words or the bore drops the turds? Resurrect immortal stars? ➚ immortal presence in absence? and originally called "World Piss" a Portal from late Winter Spring in season. Summer, Change again.

Fallen leaves geimhreadh, in permanence life in death. Burnt tales hot in my Guct, (Ouw) turning my stomach mechanism over using these trybetabl cuts.Ultra-magnetic pullies. Knot derived from ethylene but Fli-Discs enchant hearts with herbs. Enviro friendly as melody. As 2012 inch spiral groove encrusted disc. A Spiral dance with a Stylush. 45' Queen Diamond tipped nuzzles massage my cream nozzles. Sniffin' indicator diagrams.

Scratch here for indica. Here for Sativa. Here for Black Hash. Here for Strawberry ← Orange and on. Weaving flavor through the groove canals simultaneous: phase/phase thud and rumble times 2turnatbles. From tub to tub like barrels of whisky whisking ultramagnetic forces into vinyl courses. Get beat scrumpin' at them jumble sale LP's. L.P's the KEYS remember. Order comes and goes and comes. Like my concentration playing guitar. Chaotic flipping routine's rotate into sense. And non-sense.

Laser Chirp Scribble. Whipped with wooden Birch spoons
Mckloonatrax rattle, ho, chicken wire revolution
Hands jiggle jungle bugs simultaneously
Throwing old Blue Notes by their tales.

Funky drummer on repeat with one finger & putting Miles' on beat with another. Two rekkids spun to rekindle. Tea rack coordinates ➚ from the under the kitchen sunk, with the moldy sponge and the draino' funky tiunes. Then to the sun and rain. All fucking colors. Whirling plastic vehicles of sound.

Prose Logik audio starting up, starting up after breaking down while breaking it down about breaking down on the cutting edge only last week. Sunlight shines in a hemp platter, better with a slap matt and a shopping bag sheath for a thinner wafer-thin layer on the otherwise bald fluff. Tractionears full of snow-wax redicu-chords.

Big Red flares. Put to DAT. Get F.A.T. and Amplfi-tunes."Phrenic ΩHM" to take us aum, home. Time c❁de the Seal calendar. To hatch the Seer' Alto flynl Scratch Anti-skate laws, ensuring the freedom to assembly, free speech and the right to a turntable. Across scale. Motherfucking load of Bollitiqs.

"Take the enclosed copy of this letter. Cut along the lines. rearrange” -- William S. Burroughs

Experiments from the beating beefheart of the blackcountry. First flight of fantasy, textual flights, catapult my faults at a page. Platter rage fired from a 2012 gauge. in the spore lab 9, my museyroom, its fine. Microscope to check the weed Crystals, Telescope to check the Crystls in the Galaxy galaxy. Zyperrealist imagistourview estate of mind. Later on we'll conspire, As we dream by the fire To face unafraid The plans what we've made Walking in Robocop wonderland. Even Steven Prattle, a battle around the bend. Dadalust for flight through light and dark. Spark the word. Stay live. Don't get too close now steve'. March 08. Amsterdam. Hallways and passage lead to the messages that weigh nothing. Equality. Pay nothing. Harmony. Say nothing when there's no thing to say. If light had a weight we would be floating away with our thoughts.

Imaginengine what reality humanity might get away with. Metempsyshosis, Liberty and Light. Reflected to us from our sense apparatus, given by natures dog. Human beings unbounded in universal teleological TV shows. Little Sister. Celebrity get me inn here! See thee confounded in political definition. And s/he began like a thunderbolt: There can be no holy wars. Wars stem from lack of information information. Who rolls the dice nice? Peace cannot be kept by force, only achieved by understanding. She Who Speaks With Burning Wind in Her Mouth. Let the wind speak. A fly will not get into a closed mouth.

Skywriting by word of mouth. i hear an army charging upon the land, from their mouth. The Madness of it All. Who set the Reichstag Fire? Journalism reports facts. Poetry spells the truth. Peace comes of teletelecommunication.

War seems like a twelve year old boy with no arms. Peace sells but who's buying? War days without plan, grasping scents of death. W☠r, no matter how necessary or justified, appears criminal to me. What's so civil about war anyway?

Who would Dante consign to the ninth circle of Hell in 2009?
Poets today piercing Blush,
and the Brown m☠ddness.
OH Bamadness continues...

My pen as Silver bullet, whizzbong. Full of James Haze Juice. "God wants ME to be Prime Minister. God wants ME to be President" i hear em' saying on the news. Make assassinations not war whispers the wise crank. Each one in the name of it's God. Come you masters of war. Even Jesus would never forgive what YOU do. War to end all wars. it was claimed the war had ended, it had not ended. Only the madman is absolutely sure. Do not move. You have caused this war by your excessive zeal. No poem for annihilation. War huh, what is it good for. And monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. Using war in an effort to attain peace. Leaves communities in pieces. Whatdoyouthink? the F☠ben works still entact? 1941: Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union in pursuit of oil. World peace: most noble goal of humanity Gold enhair, i hear you singing a merry air. Dolliskullyscum & bums. Manners maybe from earth and water, because some say they upraise out of hills and streams. Rude city oil slickers and cola espiocrats. Rats. Ethics still born from agriculture. if only church were like a tree. Sin; they nailed him to the tree. 2006: began investigating causes of war to oppose same. That corpse you planted last year in your garden. Has it begun to sprout, will it bloom this year? Myc❍topia or O'blivion. And bones of slaughtered men Lie bleaching in the Sun.

War begins in the minds of men. in minds the defense of peace must be constructed. In the mind indestructable-turn. War maybe peace. Freedom maybe slavery. ignorance maybe strength. Stink of death, sewage, garbage in the bombed city. And babies squealing like eagles. No substitute for committing peace. Wars like traffic accidents often motherfuckers running the RED LIGHT. Difficult to get news from poems. Women die every day for lack of what maybe found there. Peace seems to be when you get along with other people. The rhythm the rhythm and your memory in my head. Peace maybe an agreement to end a war. Dispute over sovereignty, territory, resources, religion. Clouds and the war wind whirl up. Grass roots tighten around white bones. No trace of previous war. Peace as a state of perpetual love. T$ar Lazar sits at the evening banquet. Peace as food for thought. War inspires fear and hate among people of nations. Peace seems like happiness and joy to the author. World War disputes, secret treaties. €conomic and political business plans. There maybe no way to peace, peace seems the way. Like the shining calm of Rivers and the sea. War writing on the wall ✐

My subject is poetry, not language, yet the roots of poetry are in language. In the study of a language so alien in form to ours as is Chinese in its written character, it is necessary to inquire how those universal elements of form which constitute poetics can derive appropriate nutriment. --Ernest Fenollosa, The Chinese Written Character as a medium for Poetry.

Dream # 2. (Dream Time Unknown) 1:11: 00. Outside the Robin Hood R n' B club over in front of the Mary Hill shopping Center, there was a huge mound of waste of some sort with a giant sign sticking out of it, like in a cartoon, spelling out the word FORBIDDEN. I quickly jump on a motorbike and start racing and skidding around the car-park area through puddles around and into the waste land area like Steve Mcqueen in some lost scene from the great escape. Then, wild dog-wolves and Monkeys come lurching towards me with slanted gallops, lurching with horrible uneven leg movements, i avoid them by the skin of my teeth, panicked i speed off to safety but only narrowly avoiding falling off the bike a few times, bike' had a mind of its own, out of control. Next thing i remember i am lying down somewhere warm and cozy, thinking and fantasizing about a dark skinned lady and her loving hot kisses.

WeiRD PUSS. CHAPTER 3. Verse Hatch Buck Cuntree.

"History is not a dream from which i am trying to awake." --Ezra Pound

Chapter III.

Thus a nerve, a wire, a roadway, and a clearing-house are only varying channels which communication forces for itself. --Ernest Fenollosa

Fli CAL. Book. Sight. TUNES. Photo. Disc. ℗OD. Who am i fooling? what do i desire to say? to inspire replay. I'm tellin' all my friends, I'm no longer fattening frogs for snakes? My Rising Sign is in 03 Degrees Virgo. Enough? i'm doing this for trees. My Sun is in 25 Degrees Aries. Wedging my lungs to fight the truth disease. Saturn is in 26 Degrees Cancer. Medicinal discussion seeds take flight on the breeze. Pluto is in 09 Degrees Libra. Collective writing to stop protagonists fighting. N. Node is in 12 Degrees Scorpio. Peace yes, that's enlightening. illuminatus! Raps for peace, many models chiascoro. Pluto is in 09 Degrees Libra. Thunder Claps Vico and voice everywhere. Neptune seems to be in 13 Degrees Sagittarius.

The difference between my sun and moon signs as they apply to my chart and my life are best seen through the lens of a game of cricket. My sun sign Aries is the British bowler and dirty spinner of light. A pushy, almost pompous fast bowler. Sidney-sunshine throws light with a sense of direction and purpose, majestic, slicker than a West Indian Tom Selick. It seems the balls of sun light are splitting their seams on the journey. Off, towards the moon in scorpio. The champion bowler shines the ball on his strawberry cheesecake pants, and as leader of the team manages to re-compose quickly after a terrible no-ball to take a wicket with a last minute intuitive air-head pitch. The reflective moon-batsman Bill Bailley either rebounds the suns light up and out for a six or gets stumped out by the bowlers superious tricks. Often swinging furiously at the air. At this point an unexpected comet shower interrupted play so the sun and moon hung out with the cricket ALL stars; admiring the playing field and all the previous inter-planetary cricket plays, outlined in red, blue, green, black and yellow cutting edges. The difference? The four legged English fast bowling sheep known as Airy Outfield has 720 spin.

Mythological companies of thirteen. When confrontation exploded western civilization imploded, on that day in NYC when the unknown terrorists struck confrontation Magazine and turned their files on the illuminati into fragments, incomplete all out of order in chaotic bits, chips, pieces. Me now 31 years later, sittin' rubbing my wrists in front of OSX. Mind rejects non-tangible objets such as Saint Sterlings blogjects and fabjects but my hearts infested with silicon dreams makes new cloths with these themes, creams, coffee colored chocolate computers. Venus is in 08 Degrees Aries. Simple like simple grass. Transparent as glass' she said. No wrds, no gas. Methane aen. Jupiter in 04 Degrees Taurus. What remains after flight AA23 to Palm Springs. What springs from the author's palms?

if Santa decided to cash in all his electronic gifts one year and invest in methods to achieve world peace. We might feel it. MissileTOE and wine and Jamineata munchrooms and Coca-©aina' and Rudolph and Santa and juicezeus. Coming together at ©hris✝messy thyme. Shortest day. Marmalade skies. Jayzass Chris✝'s botox. intoxicated insex! Raynbows lead to a gilded Santa Classe. Fountains of Ambereeta. Good Spread peace cheer. Jolly green holly-follybush halos. Greetkings godd-bugs. Manduca quinquemaculata, Musca dΩmestica, Amenanna pantherina, Lasius flavus, Charaxes jasius, Tursiops Truncates: love Christmas. Shy argarik✇ milking love under conifers and Birches with miss' Class. Maybe Rudolph will join our piss up next Christmas time. This time. Within Siberian shamanism it was in good cheer that you drank the Urine of a Ramanita intoxicated Mashohm. ₡hris✞mas time Flies when you navine' pun. Joysus might be considered a conservative drug addicted herbal healer. But no squealer.

Santa ©laus a poet scholar of mythology and sacred timespace. Nice jacket. if their were free peanuts on the bar where Guinness Zeus jr.,used to hang then maybe some punters might have tried his urine. Hidden variable. in small, harmless doses. Jingle bells, minced pie, turkey and stuffing. Truffle skins. Meat shakes and more pie. ©hristmas time seems meaty, white, and very expensive for most households. Jingle Jangle. Have an Olympi© ©o©a ©hris✝mas. Cheerzuss, smoking a phatty riding upon Rudolph the red nose sez "San✝a Class maybe coming, to town" Ear comes Eve's Re:body. Shake it.

Open the discussion. Stop the chatter. Star speaking. Shut up. Speak out. Mercury is in 10 Degrees Taurus. Vaporize your Horizon with a Bubbleator translator. More crystals to take your soul on a further adventure further. Walkin' the earth tasting the turf and turning blue smirf sometimes, just to give birth to something thats worth something. A new thing, cat with two wings. Summert to take my mind off Gun crime and its relationship to poverty of imagination throughout my social conspiracy, this alchemical conurbation. Myrhmetrobulletin Burrough Con.cil to tickle a tonsil or two.

M❂❂n is in 11 Degrees Scorpee "O". Go Chanting in caves and chambers up out the star shaft, ejectulating spores. A pirate in the hall of records records copied onto fli pod. See her wearing flared chords with Daisies embroidered on them, full Zodiac on the hem. A gulp and she's off, taking flight in a meteorite she's hard Spore drunken chaotic, like a Japanese man, and a Chinese man and a druid talking about quantum physics disperseed at Ten Thousand miles per seconda. Defender of true Filth. A spore landed in New York, London and the Europe. Limping like quazzimondo with a giant sack of red froth on my back a terrible sight after drinking con. sap. The frontline of the/and physics of time on a timetable termtumble. 2 hands on the face of space. Time c❁ded vinyl interfarce. ☂

The Grit hall of records looted, Dear Lourd. The gods all packed and stacked as 45's i wonder? Eye dreamt about a blue one-legged thunder bolt, like 108 Coltrane tunes ascending through time from 1967! around June in 1967! Six days. War: Plunder of nature. Yet Sun Ra you tune in to other worlds truth. You fuel my air powered Aiwass car. Cheers. Sun of a Knew Biz. Ain't nobodies business, dripping in Afro Blue honey colored beads. Razor prose from the Crescent city filled me with joi. Living American indian in a gumbo with cajun spices, the funk, and now harmolodic. After the rain falls you can hear the Future in the Trane calls. inside a sentimental moog tube. Rolled up glyphs in cryptic splyffs and sparked up the Golden lump of love - Charas O Sir, Sirius seems tasty. Ayahuasca you may ask her these many strange questions of Coltrane dreams. Humanity nature’s boy? Place the eye of Horus on the Rekkid. Nod your Nut in Prestige. Ohm. Aum. The Punch. Sheets of sound yes. Shake your booty side to side like your Jabba the Hut. Cut 'n Scratch the pockets of imagination in your trousers. Above sepharik hyperlight particles. 13 Moon tribetables turning to Sunny sister bliss to help heal yourself. Melody runs between the legs of Nuit to a beat of acknowledgmint. Sun star-satellite shine all Nuit. Sun spelled RAMMZEUS. Awaken. ✌

Tables of Curryspundsundays waltzing AmpliFlying Amplifiction. Hieroghettofication said Part 2. To make bandwidth pregnant with novel tea. Tribetables. Beer comes eves:re:body. Bee'ear NOW! Revolutionary Fli-Disc Jockey horse play. Blending reality with Manure, whisking up mythology and horse shit into gods ice scream pharmacy. Better make profit out of manure than losses with muskaria. Apple Logik Reason & Prose tools. Penrose tools. A pommigram. Wading through a quagmire of ignorance. fli-sight Plug outs. Bug outs biguinness. Pull up thy vanity. Oh like shit you are! lightening bolt one leg just run off with my stunk-footnotes while a blue blooded psycho©lops just stole my stereo equipment from right in front of my nose. 12" singles spun off into space, cliche background ambient history unfolding like petals, Scratching details, itching variables, rubbing changeable syllables. flipped buqs flipped flop Fly-Discs, spun records. Elbotenic acidjazz. Deep within the heart of Jungleheart. Chitwan. Loud dubbleDub plate vinyl slang. Amplifiction. Recip2p.maps + puzzle + song carved into the runoff matri[X] Thus was it in time Tribetablist Kallendeerest and lungwaj construction tools.

Future therapy for westurnisms gone wyld. Billy Pilgrim has become stuck in time. Again. Look at the track titles to a mix, smashup microformats turn on slip mats. Tapetime take it. Armed with Sleeve artwork to mark. Scribetablet ork-castration of the 20 amino acid guides, Life. Microphilm lines linking linguistic recipes together. Counter acting Link rot. Fill your GUCT. Lets eat. lets beat. Still stumblyn around the writers block. See the Spray Can as computer Mouse Brush to edit city programming. Visual signifier of house. [pack, house, set, series, rules, game] ideogramicro-flash transdicer to bust an industrial ulcer human nervous-system goes solar. it unifies each generation into a single irreducible representation. Greeting Grandmother Goddess GaCia. She Listens to me drawl dew on HER Grand Orient Hodge-oak leaf, my runny nose pours emerald lozenge goop, snotfalls Tin flash dazzlehopper. Sign lungwaj$ of our times-tables always turning terms. Now and then versinging, dancing the kung-fu prose from my red nose, day2day dribble and tears. She SPEAKS of Sparkes. Audio intoxicated EVOLOTiON. The rave. Let us dance. Not take crap from anybody. Cut and Skratch at history to find biosemiotics.

"Like Joyce, Vico believed that poetry arose out of creative etymology ("incorrect etymology," in Academese). Like Joyce - and also Whorf and Korzybski - Vico believed in a radical change in language could alter our percieved reality tunnels. - Robert Anton Wilson.

The willows darken on the River ΞmbΔnkment, At this time i confused and little bewildered. Urcrillick. Pilgarlic ich, Cannabis metempsychophysician. JAMSterdamanita sporebank rubber stamp sticker. Slacker. Word world bender. Channel swim crossing contender for 2008. Mid moi 2007 and 2006 i of nearly 7 Billion critters got over the jitters. Bottom of the food chain, shaky composting culture. Microphone-mycofiltration. Fly-Disc jiggy horseplayer. Worldwide species distribution for over 10'000 years! i grow on Manure. in your shop, under the floorboards, in your dumpster most likely. Fungus containing gossip. i gloss it. LP sync it. Grow on shit and come in peace. Moisture Prophet. Sun light and cloud coding birth me when you look again. Ground Uniflyed Television, kill it. Muscaria connects with chemicals Telepathically. Even Botox. Muscartinic receptors connect pharmacology and me. Steϒ The connection of natures chemical bonds now collaborative T❍❍LS ➚

Electronic signals stimulated like a clit. Bit after bit after bit. Pheremone phones ringaring December 2012. Millions of species of fungi on line. On-line. Haha. Sinkerfoot. Less in nature named the better. Spreads the holocrillic meme like butter. A new species gains recognition in names. Woird up. Up like little grains knotted into earth under heaven and turf. Name "it' claim it. Often all but exstinct in our everyday surroundings. Man bites dog, man sees horse, man sees horse again. Horsefly bites man. Subject and predicate can be reversed. ®e-versed. Liberty Capital Mount. Mushroom internet "ΘN" since 200'000 B.C. Always "ON" And before that. Unamed untamed, now growing under an old englishmans armpits. Spores passed through time into fruiting bodies. Compared with an apple, liberty Caps shaped like the nasty Nukes of a hijacked Apollo god. Tiny yet powerfully transformative in the mind/body of a Human host, the mushroom sees the man seeing.

Eh? What you saying? "Every human partnership should have only one child. Thus we save the planet from over population. Mushrααm eats manskind with relish. Computers mushrooming! Like Marxism. When we met i could only taste the buckwheat pancakes darling. You displayed agility within the pool. And upon bicycle! i am sorry you missed that summer holiday so long ago while in caster plast. ignorance ig my miggle name, and i take the blame. Light it and banish with flame. My fire burns, your waters shimmer burns me deeper. To sleeper. I am hair with you! You teach us…methodically. U Tortoise. Humming bolt birds blue dragon Flies mosque eaters, man eaters and flesh nibble creek surf cobble stone mushy pea muss. Emerald fur growing yes. Trees for days, pine and ever and evergreen Mountain.

It is no good going to the river just wanting to catch a fish; you have to take a webnet as well. Toad Fool. Future Kicker-Stool. Riding through the white snow on his birch sleigh, whip strike with a snap ouch! on Rudolphs balls or else it, dear reader it might take yonks over past-ages to deliver all these "presents" as fast pack-ages. Unless he could "stop" time. Unlikely. Track ages. Wee three kings, drinking amber nectar. Give some to the kid. Drunk at birth. SΩma brings the year, calandeer break out of cages. Blue sky ceilings. Merry ©hristmess Grandfather time. I'm tellin' all my friends, I'm no longer fattening frogs for snakes' S/he bleeds blue Applesauce. Her blood sews on seedbanks on riverbanks which spark riddles in rivers.

Sonic army. Yeah a guitar Army of Moonchild Arkestars. Hair Combs Everybody. Your boy boy. Spill out from Jupiter’s Moon not two moments too soon. Like gods on a safari in an invisible air balloon. Awake with a remix. Zerox. Zeroine pox, catching like fox. Europe a fiction. Novellette. A Love Hate relationship. Empire of meme. Me me me me. Crazy pope, a Czar a Tsar and Zarr. You know you know what wars are. Conflict. Miss-communication. Usury. Black September lies.

Clear out woids often. Cough up your Guct.
Get rid of the words that don't add something to the message>
Europa the planet as spherical melody line.
Tonight of thousandeyes - end-to-end blueberry burners
snakeskin of Northern rain-bowing
floodlights.

Soar on your wings of KadamapΘ. Your friendly neighbourhood flyderman in your world wide weed metempsychosis. Through portals flow immortals out of WindTao’s, wings stretched, swooping rainbow wings singing angel firebirds, Mahavishknu and Airpusher. Flight. Hearth ship conquists of the irrational. Twists international. Blue flower mind-field trips.

Radio provides a speed-up of information that also causes acceleration in other media. It certainly contracts the world to village size and creates insatiable village tastes for gossip, rumor, and personal malice. --Marshal McLuhan

DREAM #3. (Dream Time Unknown) 27:11:99 Strolling through some English countryside or other i see an object coming from the Eastern Horizon, its getting closer and from where i was standing has the appearance of a tidal wave in shape and size, but in actual fact when it gets closer, to my astonishment i discovered that it was in fact a gigantic wall made of thousands of squirrel's, maybe 100's of 1000's all linked together and tumbling over each other in a giant ginger-grey torrent. Then suddenly the whole wall began curling and arching over me making a bridge, like how ants sometimes link together to make a living bridge. Interlinked and mobile. TOADS then came marching across the squirrel bridge constructed over me. I am suddenly time-space transported to some town center in with Mo and Chris holding a bag full of live TOADS. The toads directed me into a huge building with many people coming in and out. i was feeling depressed about living without much money while standing on the street outside a betting shop. Next i'm putting a bet on a horse at the kiosk, a £3.50 on a 5-1. i watched a horse on the screen and soon became overwhelmed with grief about something largely unknown to my memory. I got loud and angry with the barman serving me in the bookies? i began investigating the building and found many other little rooms, basement areas with large movie projector's and multimedia facilities. These room all had wide mysterious walkways up either side of the stage area. The windows had stained glass images of naked human figures mixed in with clothed animal figures. i was amused by this mixture of man and beast. i saw Mat and sat drinking with him, chatting, then a beautiful girl walks up to us both, seemingly out of nowhere. Matt bites her butt cheeks and then he leaves with her with a delighted expression on his face.

WiRLD PIST. CHAPTER 4. Wod Lust.

Chapter IV.

"Amrita: N U i Th: Nitrogen Uranium iodine (and sea-life) Therium makes a New "random" Atom Atomic No. 93." --Aleister Crowley, 23 August 1945.

Breakfast spun on a Golden moldϒ threaded platter. Saturnalia with a bite of luck. Kung Fu toast and tea and Blueberry muffins. Huλgens probe separates from ©assini Huygens (Christian) Orbiter. 21 day taste trip to Titan. Christmas TSunami eclipsed by probe. Place the needle stylus into the F-ring groove, Wash your hands, Take a fresh shroom and gently twist the Cap off. Place gills down on a sterile card/glass platter. Cover the card with clean container, Leave overnight! Fold the ©hristmass card next morn and keep airtight. Ziplock it, airlocket and good luck. Happy saturnalia. Sporeprints remain good for a year, blueprints maps. New prints ALL CAPS. Tales Tales Tales. ✜ Apple Logic 2.3 tastes strange to me Looks like strange fruit served with Correspun/dance. Alight PUN-danc©e. Didji drivel weather forecasting. Bored network? Forrest television. hello hello. PΩmegranate planets with each byte of luck.

Artemis scaffolded via multitrack audio interface dialects. Why it noise? White noise. Open chowder sauce trickled beyond the boundAries of bowl. The phλsical boundAries of the Donut. The mental boundAries of an octet truffle. The personal bound-Aries of a blow-job from your hot young secretary. Conned shaped concepts to pointed precepts ➘ of subjects and, pre-dated predicates ➚ and Kate's old grammar ↕ Stereoscopic Holographic Prose tools. Listen to me. Forget what you learnt, till your tongues burnt You ain't learnt. Remove the ceiling! escape the house. Tone arm troopers for Revolution routines. The Prose tools spew maybe just fragments. Maybe it's all fragments, Bits, chunks, parts, pieces, as yet unconnected and pre-GUCT. And so Hair Combs Everybody. Amrita and all. All peoples from ALL times ✜ ALL places re:unite. Tonight. in a blue tidal concressence, like a paisley, tie-dyed wave. Vibrational physics maps are still maps. Virtual maps.

INK as hardwar device deployed spilt and deltupun Sammy-circular shemy-attatched shami-holy playing pages. A Seed looping with hands throwing seeds praying for a root for reality totality to come to me. The i-disco joke plays on random. She cutting and scratching samples on Mp3, CD, connected by her broadtoothed magic fairλ god mother. Janet the sister of Ms. Higgs. Feasty boys on this Apple logik pie, sprinkled with amerinita cinnamon girls. Zappa girls. Hot. Hotter. So hot it rebirths again with a Bigger badder BANG. GU©T: to merge gravity situations with the Trinification of (lang)gauge symmetrees into a Grit Unifie(l)d ©oins℗i®acy Theory of Neverytongue. Higher Crane Everywire. Unified. Undefined interknot of tings and bleeps. Popping candy on the tongue. Habitat, seasonal changes, growth, flowering and fruiting. Who cracked the internut?

If you destroy a bridge, be sure you can swim. Killingry helps Humanity go hungry so please man PLEASE stop! No more guns made oh lords. No bombs, No poison gas, stop Manu£acturing it lords. Blow it out your a$$ets motherfucker. No more arms deals, Stop Manu₤acturing it. Your bath of war. Create livingry and justice Be fair! Let us think for ourselves and Question authority with a big "Q" We demand our liberty and freedom! Rats construct urban renewal projects without concrete, electric or petrol, steel, permission or plans only Mud, twigs and rat brain. Across the bank lies the Golden Fleece, two pears a chain and a Bridge The rivière? Silver m❍❍n flash of duck feather or maybe thats a $hopping cart? Orange Feet paddle in luminescent Waste i want to clean up with mushrooms. Future's bright industree Spill-age renewed by an icon for the Gnu-Age. Amphibians crawl into holes to croak their politics.

Lizards and Toads set private banquet meetings in their lair. I'm tellin' all my friends, I'm no longer fattening frogs for snakes. The famous spy-town captured by CC✟V eye-monitor. The records compiled by black technology. Gunmetal grey Pigeons circle the concrete ring-road Saint Johns road. Under the demon pass-age they're pecking at a yellow bag of potato chips. Hold on a sec, my signal comes bufotone! Silver sovereign steel overcome by soft m❍ld. Coke ©oal and black soot of poverty mixed with snot groan house-made stain. Blood on my white hankychief. Rise of the plastic-christi phallosocial machines, as bread doe expands through the vast expanse of my dreams ✴

Ξnvironmental pollyticks ✓ strategically poised by pink bureaucrafts. Rivers reshaped by money engines into shopping quadrant water features. industry meets business industry. One world split like a pea. Big soup. Big Gumbo with red black and yellow spices. in the wind Miss Sutra incarnate dark Afro Oriental South Amazon Λngel amazinn. illuminatus characters leak inn from history through mirrors, Bob's story, your story, our story. The birds sit unmoving on the wooden telegraph pole across the street. i'm hungry, so hungry. Feeling famished out here on a wing and prayer in memory. Living on fresh airs air. Freshly borrowed lunguage fulls of air. Blogject gases. Some stolen books and swindled hardware lies in the dusty tomb next door. Birds sitting on a telegraph pole in nodal points create a picture of twelve notes, a scale, musiq notation, birds notes.

In Northern California two days previously Ted Edwords looked from the moving vantage point of his wife's car, moving through nowness, daydreaming and i'm thinking of you, daydreaming and i'm thinking of you, moving with groan mountints. Whizzing by Ted's thoughts calmly, Paul Stamets calmly tracked his time on the road, two days and four hours, licorice tarmac and yellow stripes stretch along the pathway, melting in the distance, eye-sight breaks down GUCT Fli-sight. Meanwhile in the forground the birds switch and hop between wires, moving notes, birds switching modes. A dance and a melody. Light enters eyeball and on retina symbols form and corresponding footnotes unfold. Sonogram ideogram hologram. Half a gram and a coffee. veryfiable in souper-nature. Eyedeers communicated to the mind in an intuitive, symbolic, imagistic fashion.

“You might want to lick the bottom right-hand corner of page 23. Go ahead, it's alright. No one will ever know." - Paul Krassner

How to represent the invisible hands. How to learn the changes? Ted tells his wife about his vision of Sixty-four hexagrams along with descriptions of ancient paintings. The Book of tribetable EYE Discs maybe nowfore presented ear. You must imagine engine it. Grand Uniflyer wired with D'vines code. in/out with a formatted gloss to engage hemispheres. The years as a greedy temporal Mandollar. Don't joke with a hungry man. A Geometric circular chord chart on a slip mat. Time as hierarch-keys. (Sacral, Sacrificial and Juicy fresh). Timespice in your GUCT. Narrative time cooking itself into poetic timetom (the meter's), spun on my platter axis. Ted was in a hypnotic trance for several hours and continued long disjointed dialogues with his wife. Surf a wave-harmonic of his-story in land to shoreline. Two copies entertwinned with a mixer. Mixed drinks and drugs and media.

Mixing phase Arcana LOUD over the banners Phase, delay, echo-compression, using echolocation and amplitude and attitude to turn Procession Cycles into images of clocks on bicycles. Etch a tree calendar into a picnic table this summer. Back to Life Back to back to life, back to reality. Opoponax on wax, cuts sharp as an axe. Take off your cloths be naked as worms, jump in. NO DiViNG. No running, no petting, no bombing, no pushing and NO PARKING outside the pool. Health and safety signs in Ted's mind read: No embezzling, no in$ider-trading, no cheating, No smoking. No Double standards and double speak. no touching me. "while the human mind is mobile, so long will the definitions of all our terms vary." said A.C.

Swimming my troubles away, drowning each day. Deadley Leisure Services pulled the plug on me at Brierley Hill Baths. Tryed to drain me away. Couldn't wait to close the place and drain the chlorinated water into the local cannal! They wished they washed me away, but what remain seem only words, to describe each stroke and the awful sniff of the mustardy smell of chlorine. A testament to my protest activity in a swimming baths on new years eve 2005-6. Iron lung flutterfly. Pushing from the past, pulling into the future with each stroke i am now a Chinese written character in ink dot-com bubbles. Cage me now. Freestylz ill be the breath of me, all open and stream of consciousness. Λwake. Dreaming Λwake of the woidllness, the muddle way around the midday puddle puzzle.

Miggledy critickle pathway. Born a dragon in 1976 a full 200 years after the proposition was signed by reptiles. Brotherhood and society, idealism and socialism. lemon and lime in my baby cup. Noding, disnoding. Operation desert storm carried out with unsterilized apparatus as i left school in 1991. Me Drunk and shaking like a leaf. At the ℗olice i-disco bumper to bumper. Bundle weeds blow prayer. YOU alone? i hear something else anyhow, a call in the distance, a song, as holy meme cow. Wildstyle. Scales intermezzo-lock with geometric precision, like astrological houses the music unwinds like a waterfall in Brazil, playing to become self actualized. The other voices? Playing out the vision. "i" bow to Tao here and NOW and Zen again agen. Bow to Mind, bow to body, bow to bowow speech to find Ωhm. No place place. Gone gone like AUM. The Tsar must be impeached whispered the lunatic in the street. And he must be fed to his wolf pack. A sea Merchant takes a lung pull on a roll up beneath his red hood, shaggy trousers stem up from out from earth, no boots in sight. Concentric rings of smoke rise from his phone/wand.

The puppet, and the puppeteer. Me and my crew all got a tattoo saying Statutory Apeshit. The nine, know no fear. Hard, tuff, Teeth of George Washington, Hair of Kool Keith. ☏ you might cat shit. With a copper Aura protecting the flora. Kick out the Jams moth flickers. Me and my brothers and sisters worked our selves into blisters for this life and shampoo. Now we bloom. i got the sauce and the verse noodle, the chrome and the curse, make rhyme tints for the review. Ragoo, shows you how to break through, with just a gym shoe and a tube of glue, Ragoo can make do, and now debut to the ground crew the strength of his home brew, ha ha, Ragoo can renew the word, undue the absurd with a pool cue. Maybe Baby Ragoo can see through the untrue and can subdue the political beef stew that threatens you with Minnesota-style decency. Ragoo helps us pull through the intro-verse and traverse the "Universe" (Let me hear the stars) No taboo, all walls to be walked through, use magic fish stew, Oyster stew, Kangaroo + Ostrich stew. Wholly Chao! Wholly Chao! Rag studied in Timbuktu, got mad knowledge in the bag. Travelled to Kalamazoo to learn Kazoo from Master How Tsu Do. Ragoo rhymes like a walking shoe, traveling soul about the world in my black bamboo earrings, reading, writing, daydreaming, sleep-dreaming, pot-smoking, feeding various neighborhood critters, and playing poker. Ragoo the Queen of hearts Ragoo the Joker. Favorite Student. Fun Uncle. Devil's Advocate. Unwilling Recruit. Far-Out Friend. Maddening Boyfriend. Diplomat. Bureaucrat. Dreamer. But Who's Bob Arctor. The Norathor?

Tone's of bluetooth and Delta blues-harp harmonize under a crescent moon, while somewhere above and below Saturn-tables spin spiral theta patterns of Saturns shimmering rings, somewhere out there somebody staves tonight, they starve for the space program. in a Knu social Knittwork we have a crew that never rests. Tuned in here. Be Mime! A harp chord echoes. Saturn, Titan, Ξuropa, Phoebus, Mars, Sirius. The Tao maybe in the Dung" A Telepathic mycophile microcordinating - said Willy the wit of Wordsley, now how about you, are you rolling in it, well are you? rolling? a worthy Chief Commissioner of your dirty most Brown and polluted sewers that sayers this about? Ate all your prayers. So mote it be. With eggs, Tomato and Ravioli. To deceive both myselfishes to deceive you dear reader? Fly - A false etymology. A deceiving beef steak. My gentle loving and patient reindeer. False etymology to cloth you. After TΞA and a little Spanish Fly. Fly tried on lush brushed leather liberty huts. Bruised blue. While on a peaceful myspice quest to discover the DUNG loving phungus. S/HE can be charged with Possession patient reindeer. The AUM seems here now, in the room. ironically, the law it calls possession a lesson in possession of thought speak for thinking about next weeks MiND fungus meeting at London University campus. Legend has it that you call a priest to excorcise a possession. A lesson: Fly maybe poisonous in high doses, maybe psychedelick (or at least deleriant) in small quantities. ☣

The Lunatic in the street bawls a little more loudly - The new inquisition sucks! blood for oil. The passion fruit of the herbalizer. All chemical agents of evolution. Exotic, spliced and fused like eggs and flour. i dedicate this to you, oh cooking bowl. I guess its the hour. The crucible with lashings of lemon-aid, sesame-seed oil, green olives and water, massaged into your OWN temple. Hemple. Message from Titan: MckLuanna LiVia AnnacoΠDΑ. Annacondoor. The sky opens up and Drums bang like drums bang in the busy street, banged by a rogue band of gypsies for tips to get tipsy turvy. Troops out of irag written on my back. And Please donate to help POPE Bob pay his rent. 100'000 beats to 190 beats per minute, moon smiles and carnival, Fat Tuesday dancing as the wildly bright indians dance with ideogramic magic.

Head nods, more smiles. Questions about who the POPE IS? from some very old looking critters with trolleys and creamy brown soft Caps. Good old folks - frowns and stares. Smiles anyways. Entertainment for the cows, interested in high notes. Troops out of iraq. And Afghan. Drug war. Look! See any mushrooms out yet? Take to the streets, leave school and work. Children shattered with rockets that put money in fucking war industry contractors Pockets. And some of our greatest artists are dying, unable to pay their rent. The love we sent. Watered down culture, down into 74'million products and NO ROYALTiES are paying for the general welfare of the worlds greatest bardic gents. Fly Drumming to help pay the Discordian Popes Rent. Drumming up spirits to surprise sleepers for kicks, for Bob and humanity fun in the streets, nine rhymic patterns in nine, 160 BPM. Chasing ghosts down the street. Multiethnic channels of teletelecommunication fasting the speed of sound seeding downtown with uproar. All along the River watchbanktowers. The water's murmur evokes the voice of my father's father.

Wheats the scale of this scribe! “on Reichter scale of the Youniverse-all vibe. All goon! “Time-scales cracking on the lime skin of a Whale in the well of this rhyme. The Jab of the nib. The Jibe! Tip! A Nip from the nib of a badger.” Ninepins rolling a T’ale out of nine planets. Hitching post scripts of spits from where the sun’s stylus comes down to rest on the spat. Nine tailed fox nose snot. Hunting truths with hand plus knife blade voice. Cutting the Jongleur perceptions angular, aerospice bloom in triangular patterns of the vibe sun and moon. The Rivers seem to be our Thothers, they sure do quench my thirst for a metaphoric burst of flux flow and life source. The whole world word wide named after her. Her, SHE, Amstour.

All women, all blue pearl rivers, all goddesses. Yes. wow. Still suffering in the name of progress, polluted by wars. Even today in 2008 i spot shopping trolley remains littering her veins. No crack commando team to remove grandmothers ailments. Does "GoodGod" clean his own Rivers with his almighty weather cycle life cycle. Only natural we shoot our shit into your local waterways. Oh my sweet brandywine lover. And hoily w☠rs pollute the Tigriss. Only logical progress to colonialism that we use "The natural abundance of soaper-nature" for our own, imperial de∜ices. And continue with our divine will to power, and To double product prices. Double product taxes. Water rates, OiY. Stop that tax. Tariff on imagination. Stop the tax. Contributions to clean water solutions come with poisons. Do our Rivers have pensions? i follow your stench along the watchtower, between the banks.

Watching from my Apolination state. Conservativelϒ the mixed sewage reaches Lions largest River, ‘The River Seven,‘ like a slimyspace sausage of golden syrup. I look horrified at the deadly sinns committed by m☢dern industrial industry. But i have my thought on a leesh. Industry up☢n our naturally abundant channels of beauty, to reflect may mean to be speechless. My thought on a leesh. Most eye seer each daydirty, p☢is☣nou$ to humans and ₤ull of shit. My own skewered gobservation mind you. i rest my case at the stourmouth delta, she speaks for herselves.: Gold en-eye appeared coughing up Jamaican flem'. The tiny weenie-wee object said: “Wetleg, urinnavision: my Sunnydelight, urinnavision bong context where urinvention of Liquid lungwaj turns into runnaway success ripples in a pond, eye Understond; your bodily fluid dynamics have sprung a leak.” The Golden one €yed snake continued – “yourine sample flooded our Urinverse, stop Pissin about and go sear a therapisst.

Look after yourine self OK.” Dripping on seeds during conversation with Golden flow, i said: "i'm a Goldonny chile of torrential water slides, upward fountain of youth; brainwashed by Urine Godziller X-streaming symphonies of Piss Orchestras, Loud special firewire brews of moist Media, through vine.✆ 1984 Wet wear, microchipped passports, trickle treats whizz, wee, Wazz, wet, WaVe, water, wash, wake, wripples. W = World word Psst. The shining water that moves in the streams and Rivers. Maybe not just water. No. But the blood of our ancestors. All ours. i graduated from college with ⁵ A's, ⁵ E's, ² G's, and some K. Blow Stellar regions through your Reedles, this cartridge requires no needles. Only a thought mixed with psalmonds.

Sunstar groove rider. Passion flewer-powered for balance. Precession-guided weapuns of loaf dissolve. Pharomba made of a ether substance. Music as real as music. To Shimmer you, Shiva your inner timbers and then who’s army? Onword to the end of the beginning. Welcome to the Afterfuture. Lift the curse with verse. From your pursuance of Ancient sounds. Your Revolution. Wallis Budge over and let jimmi take over. Jimi jewels of love Juice. The Punch of Jimi's AUM. Gods and dogs talk in CGi animations about Emerald ballets of pure loving. Sex and Ballet waltzing. Make your tongue spit speckled polk dots. Do it for mother of Qool. Rewind yourself for the unwind. 23-12-2003 08:37 P.M Love Supreme theory of Egyptian hyroghettofiction. infinity so listen. Ambient sounds like sacred sentences when tuned in. Miles beyond. Train your self to listen again. Re-aim yourself for the trane-sition. Stellar Regions. Take a Holiday to Cairo, Kathmandu, Chicago and Paris. Take a dead Joplin to Giza. Take it easy Giza. The pyramiddle Earth. We take em easy Star! Aum-Allah Bama. Aum Christ. Aum Buddha. Aum Shiva. Haiwass KA A.A! indialivia Elfinn Johnzinn Elevation Zazen. Pyramids been Capped by ladies in capes. X-women. As we Approach the i-Ching hour of Transformation after tranfoamouthsun. United we Break calendrical spelling. Dream-casting wisdom through musiq. Kicking drums. X Zeus Androlickle was hung on a gate by rusty nails and this still fails to stop TSOG who burned and banned Brunolan making the "Right" choice, This spate of imperialist date rape. Escape the ape body and head for the stars. Past Mars. Where Jukeboxes play cuts of Sun-Ra's ESP disqs. Rejoice (Whispering) Hush. Hush Bush, hush now baby get your milk and suck. Love will find its way into your guts, your liver and kidneys. Hush Bush by loving his tongue. Bite it. Don’t you cry now. its just a meme to an end. its ending. Meditate. Heliopolitan Coke-Nine cartels and powder supreme.

Although the snake does not fly it has caught the bird whose home is in the sky. Meanwhile thrift store Pharmacia services for most U.S people, its Bloody Luna-sea to me. Knives out! So Dj Eye Rock Rack up Stargate coordinates ↑ with Seals and some Leaks bleeding, and "i" piss on Christs leg from behind him on the dance floor. Better wear a peg on your nose as sewage age concern flows free through a Time Crack. Time is a river of passing events--interactive processing--a rushing torrent. Look at Mirror leak vegetable television tonight and watch yourself cracking up in a chair. A jolly great ocean Pissmiss holyday. Drink IZIPHO ZAM. Earth probing machines probe upon "Oil" wells, shafting Gaia. Drilling in broad daylight. Stop. Look. Thief. Stop Chief. Stop. Look. Rape. Cold Murder!

How far do our governments Dicks have to be up our arses until we get GUCT? Awakening! GUCT! Hey moma i hear a new World Coming, around the corner, i see its whiskers, from a far off land it came, its here. Yin the Buginning was the Bird of the Nile, and the Bird was made Fish. Mid-Knight Ultra Horus chorus of clocks. Love: a simple way to save our Children. Jobs at the mall and electronic candy seem handy for randy bosses and power hungry ghostmen. Electronic candy cast into the dance by some remote Tandy store worker from Brum. The Western Lands and take off skyward like a can of Tango. To GO. Ascending. Chrust Crystal at the Controls. Ship made of Snakebricks and apple skin. Magdalene sits on the edge of the sword greasing her marbles.Drink my Sun, drink and be merrymounted, Drink the special filter Naga larger; Rudolphs finest since 23’000 B.C (Before Cronenburg, before Coltrane ) Santa pours old grandads p2pee into pint glasses, Viagra falls of dyed orange cliffwash Ruddy brew my mind, phoamenomenal for looking back and forward. Urineluck. Stick with me now. Sea-wee’d ideas floating around like sewage in Santa's ole’ Tea bag. Real Royal logic. Snort for oil. Realy royal tea maybe piss infused."Laffin all about time she muttered "Rival running overflowin “to-i-let” tracks Stained Golden fleeced string yellow nuclear force furnace. Searching for Equalibrium takin a whazz Sample on vinyl i'm lost somewhere in all that jizzle jazzle pearl mist sister blues. Somewhere in a West coastal urinal.

Sit on the bank of a river and wait: Your enemy's corpse will soon float by. Urinka! i remeber it was the 31st of October, Eye woz Drainin the Lizard drizzla after drinkin the amber nectar. Now i recal making a sure-shank redemption to Sun gods gods of the Guildead Lawn Tennis Asscoiation. Lost my mind and left it, all 12 inches ontop of the bog." "Kiss the beach urinovation. Ready. Aim. Fire in the water! up to your neck in it. Water ship down the James Leg, dribbla. i should have remebered not to whistle. Tellin tale to the whole urinverse, Beware the piss police mindyou. Among uver tangs, Leonido Du Vinshe devil wrote about flow River water, and how flow zeffected flow. By various obstacles in yer' orse row'd tao piths. Who issues it, how? Rekkids set crooked. War and Piss in the streets. Oh Yeah! All wee are saying is just maybe please give peace a chance again. Dance. Drink Sun. And peace 2 ye. Pace 2 yer 2008. Never mind the terrorpuss gush and true lies. Surf the severn bore awake to another gnu-galaxy. Oh my gush i just missed again, weed on the bog floor. Typhoonian pee, i wish the Piss police wd/ get sucked up into a giant water spout. River running clean and free out to the salty ocean on a tranquil amber evening Sunset, And With a Golden Sun set, and a Golden backdrip. Strips of bright blotted Sunlight. Sitting with tea reading Fly Agaric Motifs in the Cú Chulaind Myth Cycle. Breaking down chemical warfare agents possessed by totalitarian lunatics. Mycofiltration. Mycopoetics. Come on now, we have the technology ☂

You know what the Englishman's idea of compromise is? He says, some people say there is a God. Some people say there is no God. The truth probably lies somewhere between these two statements. --W. B Yeats.

DREAM #4. (Dream Time Unknown) 8:12:99 Inside the glorious Temple Hotel at some remote location, somewhere, opposite a long golden-grain beach, Amy was seducing my body and soul very slowly and very sensually, whispers and delicate touching in every conceivable place on my body and around about the hotel. The walls were glowing with light corral pink, floors and walls with pale lime and sky blue gushing. I remember suddenly hearing the news of the biggest storm mankind had ever known before about to strike somewhere. i realized that i was in Australia. i could see a satellite image of some enormous object just off the coast, growing bigger and bigger like a water mark on rice paper.