"There's no map to human behavior." --BjorkSHOOT your Banana, Blowup a strawberry, Pierce a Blood Orange, Kill a kilo of rice. Guns and food. Fire and ice, tell me what's more important to you, Men or Glocks? Write a reversed Gunpowder plot, reverse war in honor of Kurt Vonnegut. To blow down softly, to create a veggie plot, a plot of fertile land without a barrel, a trigger or a bullet. Remixt' into a wheel Barrow, a digger and a bucket. Bury the Nukes, the guns, the Bombs then the Hatchet Our shared world, don't botch it and scamper, replace the guns with your thumb and Shoot a smile at a million miles an hour. Renewal with joy, play and auld innocent Gayness. CHOOT it out your cock, forget the missile silo. Sigh. Flow. Testosterone and guns. Guns and food. Uzi 9 milly and a tin of purple peeled tomatoes. The AK-47 assault Riffle, and a white-russian raspberry with whipped cream Mac' trifle. Swig Sour stir Fry. Shoot it out your Assets.
Canons and Frankfurter Sausages covered in ketchup. Peacemaker Nukes and Amanitas. You may lock up the cock, but the sun will still Irise. .44 Magnum and a Chocolate ice cream. And so looking For the word that brings guns and food together, i decided upon: SHOOTS. universe Contains amaybe Go Get your self off the shelf, climb down the tube and un-stitch your mouth, weave, come on out, shout out, together now. Truck Censorship, Up. reach out, teleport to Geni-Sativa, teach out the juicy sweet peach box, call me the Queen of Sativa, wahtever' teach the furtive fruits from the roots, from the shoots, the shoots the shoots.
Meditate on the river. Squat. State your ground ground your state. Dive in swim, swim with Me' Sativa forever and flock flock censorships to shore. You add the adjective ending to the Law of fives and Burroughs. Diva dives and rises with a Beat-box to put minds in flux. Break out the prison planet damn it. Walk through the walls Kick out the JAMS. Slam your tongue and have a conscious nice day, day in day out and about, kicking in/out the jams with boots coated in SaTiVa, Shiva Finnevil. Blowing wind melody living in "DiCE" days. Let the wind speak. Kiss my LPs The Keys. (Burp) the the blind speak (Burp Bap) Embracing change, an open mind with a mic', Diva Sativa, shimmering crystal Sativa the world debt of imagination of imagination. Sativa electronic Diva. Self off the factory shelf moth flickers!, Deliver the letter by way of the wynding river-roads. Maybe Nine patterns in nine-four timespace, 123 BPM. shroom Tell he communication fast EH! Fast EH! whizz-bang the peed of soundead. Wholly Chao!
Wholly Chao! All along the River watchbanktowers. Un-stitch time with the Maybe's of NiN₤ time, Sativa herself, yourself, ourselves, minutia of greater organisms. Mini MC Elves. Go DO it. Trucking do it! start collaborative writing projects like lightening. We live love and learn as one family, join us, maybe in our non-equation gravy tea room. Wind and stars. Words and lights. Jimmy Calendrix pulls out a lighter tonight. Chimera of Nine Millennium bugs in a boogie, from fertile bogs. Percussive sound wholesome like Clogs. Don't disturb Sativa. C❁de values 9/9/99 ✜ the usual data appears absent. Shut down. Rule Lasagna. Nines to mean shutdown. Rule Lasagna. History shot-down. Who's the author, who? "We write "Anno Domini 2008. This means that we measure time from a centre-pivot.
History of corpses and ghosts dancing around an Δtomic Dustbin. Whirling through OxBridge and Yaleard encircling Churches, disembodied events pitch themselves in History like paper tents, flapping, gunmetal pegs remoulded by the winds hands. Wars end with the ∄nd of history. You write it like that. So let it be. Let it be. So said she. Brew the new Great tea to replace T.V helps you sear the bomb and the tree more equally in our hierarchy of anarchy and sarky sparky rhymazones to drop in the park Tune into dark with a spark, a light a flash a new a flesh €nd of history, the word and all that resembles it.
DNA driven world means magic mushrooms and Finnegans Wake are us. Never forget who started the end of the end of it. You want to end wars then you must myster's Finnegans Wake Forgive the mistakes i make, but i'm deep in the lake Giving to take back the sack with imperial letters of attraction And manufacture a crystal structure to remove the hex of distraction i keep my mind in traction when i make a financial transaction Who distributes it how, who's moos define the cash cow. impeach B☠sh and Br☠wn for their crimes, today, NOW impeach God and replace the void with new woid. Stay cool and calm now, don't get annoyed, End wars by being overjoyed in the face of shattered times. Forgive all the terror and brutality and government crimes.
Experiment and re-arrange the pieces, use your nervous system, check all members of a set before claiming a group. Finish up your soup. Follow the creases➘ and fight the mental diseases that tease us Turn banks back into bakeries and put icing on the similarities Between bread and bread. End war by using your head, end war by staying in bed €nd war by stopping work on the factory floor and together chanting. No more. Settle the score but not with violence. With L'amour. More debate and more alternative models - the cell, the spore. Say what are we fighting for, ask this question and STOP war. A new hierarchy to combat oligarchy. Knitting language of Joyce's and histories dead. Gone forever, overruled by a new vision, Cap able of lifting the veil i've been following
Apollo sewing for 10'000 years, hot on a veiled trail. Swimmink up nine loqc' and chain-makers arms backstroke, Up, Up stream with the pink-salmon i'm kicking jams motherfuckers. Stretching birch branches. escape velocity. escaped authority, escaped all reason and concept of season. escaped the GOD dollarmighty and God Pound. Meaningless talk backed up by symbol system chauvinism. Penmanship sails for Cap e "ism" iconoklasstick disturbance. Throw up images over your whiskey-red, ugly, greedy, Death sucking temple. Chlorophyll Killers. Everybody lay down on the floor and be quiet. By late autumn twilight Kiss me quick. Fullness of lake and excess of the West. "The Tao that can be spoken seems to me now in 08 not really the real dao. Thats gone. Like a Thom Yorke lyric. The Name that can be named needle not be the eternal Name said Loo Suzy.
"AGER is the root of an old Latin word for a mushroom used by Pliny, AGARICUM. -- Andrija Puharich.Recipe-song, a gnu map, and a critical puzzle = Mcknoveltea said fly. The only son of the only guru "made"? out the lake. Arms now ribbons of crystal in the cherry Sun set. A Skeeter Hawk whizzes by. Blown glass ripples of the great lake propagate as concentric circles. Gold sparkle and Silver. Take a moment to breath and take in the beautiful. A reclaimed sky broadcasting network, up past my nose hair to Flyspace. And the festival clouds decend again, the music as gas and fog, everywhere swirling, feat. Mcfadden and Wally ingram's Purple Soul soul soul muzick haze. Blending and bending forest spirits.
Producer-Players all in shape. Cymbals pull down the yellow Gold of the Sun. Two gallants; Mali and Mother hips. Knu-grass. Mother Mountain greetings family, and to the River. i pray to the heavens "please please make the Sour Riverrun with that crystal glaze like sweet water, brandy wine." And to the clouds High up, higher and far off, endless blue sky, deep as ocean. All mellows. Sierra mountains Huge! beauty. Festival spirits in abundance Sleeping bag critters like stoned Slugs in wonderland Prophets and Gentlemen. A congress for peace inside the music hall, Government mule rides for the good folk. i felt Bill Frisel'd Funkt 'n out Never felt stuck in the jamhouse tho. Happy drinks are happy drinks, right? The Mahal gas stunk of Hot buttered flowmotion. Loverly Sparkle and prettiness. And the clouds the clouds they bring many quool spells Grandma' mountain casting air spirals. Up dresses up. in the barn i saw strange animals. And the Mountain remains unnamed Unknown, silent but silent.
What must it be like to be a pebble? A vegetable from the Big Apple and Eve fruit n' veg' store. A bottle of red wine. Some Mu S✇ma-shrooms. Wondering the street unemployed looking ➘ for enjoyment and employment. Not work for the government, NO! Work for the opposition party, voluntary. Where are they? Those in opposition to everything that's bad and wrong with the world? i'm ready salted for them, to join them. To join them together to gather them. The bringing "together of opposites" any party must include ALL parties, no? To turn things upside down, but minding not to throw anybody or their belongings onto their ceiling. Up in myceling. Shaking up the power structure but not to mix up minds not to intrude to avoid the rude. Keep good conduct strapped in place. i'm sitting here thinking zing green thoughts. Bold, brash and revolutionary Technicolor'd thoughts evaporate. Sitting here. Zazen Urban Jungle. Rrrrr Call of the Jungle
Television player-producers.. My mind a wild jumble. How to make it cohere? ideas not for resale, but holosail. Collecting dust like my Jazz classic classics. ideas setting sail over the conspiring church spires and city banks. Cl❍udy ideas, changing shape while i sit. Still. Zeroprophet, with nothing to add. Back to back to transmit the message about how we make a global massage to relax the globe, rub the ball, cup it. See through the f'f'fake shit, unwrap your tool kit bag full of witty letter to make your wifes eyelashrd glitter. Star fragments i emit, cutting at History; a drill bit, turntable skit fleeting in/out, shake it, Eh! Shake it! Eh. The Universe contains a maybe so bake it baby.
Use this tool kit put my rhymes back together, together bring the weather and color back, the wooden furniture and garden perfumes, all in the room make it, bake, twist and get off it. Wholly ChaΟ! Wholly Cha✆! Lickety split. See y'all in the orchestra pit where i'll be piloting my spittle to send prattle waves out to caves on Mars, 12 bars blues, better pack your travel kit and have your expansion bit, double knitting time and rhyme and do it legit, Zen-prophet. Scribe of the holy writ, allmen! That's the future perfect pissing tints. Who's the author, who's the author?
“Drafting and shaping the Dantales as Constitutional constituents continues within these last three drafts.” Woody Read, One word and Dantales of Ira Pod. Page 23.
(Dream Time Unknown) 15:7:99. Davida from Dudley and myself were strolling somewhere else through a car boot sale on a blustery summer day. To my astonishment i discovered 5 RAW titles and grabbed them and bought them without hesitation. Coincidance was one of the book titles i can remember now with my hazy sun blocked memory. in a school playground somewhere else there was a fabulous banquet with thousands of people at a large, comical oversized table. My friend John Sweed had unusually long hair. Their were two feminine boys opposite me who were behaving very camp and were seemingly very gay lovers. After mysteriously acquiring a ticket for some large outdoor rave, i boarded a bus. When my stop came i shuffled towards the front door but the bus pulled off again. i ask the driver rather nervously to stop. "i wanted off there mate, can you stop please?" Blanking me like a cheating wife, he continues to speed up, missing stops and ignoring the patient people cueing at stops. By now i had slide in my sandy old flip flops to the back of the bus, collapsing into a heap just below the very back orange and burnt chocolate colored seating, briefly glimpsing some baffling symbolism which was embossed upon the hand rails on my left had side. i was frustrated, and felt angry so i struggled back up towards the driver with my mouth open, unable to speak. i reached into the drivers cabin and ripped out the old Pound coin dispenser, then dashed to emergency exit and bailed out.
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