Mid-West Mythos Part three

If the shoe fits, it's on the other hand.

Someone set a Fire in that grade School teachers yard. As the fire chases the gasoline it's heading straight to do his home harm. Horns Blair from big trucks and there's jocular laughs to wake the poor man, already his home is a blaze of flame he's not getting out of this one without some severe skin damage or worse.

Hey it's a long violent tradition, the rules don't have to be written. They're in a sinner Sinister DNA just waiting to be overlaid. And they say we rise from a pagan Dark Age. But any religion needs its sacrifices it needs a lot of folks to die. And I think we've got a rite contradiction it changes it's stocks every night.

Another day in a cloud of second-hand smoke. The City sporadically has Cops engaged in obscure activities once this area was peppered with temples and burial mounds. But every inch of it has been torn away. Paranoid did too much acid and so we go into a city of ghosts. Dried up skeletons on the floor to Facebook, no one posts. City was inflame but now reclaimed by plants and animals.

The Revolutionary year they turned the grass Lawns into gardens. Tomatoes corn and beets radishes near the streets the whole city bursting with food. They had to make new laws that put this whole nonsense down. Homeless people happily eating ears of corn as they walked through your town.

Buckets of popcorn on every street corner. It was a long strange hot season, and it tasted like freedom. A short-lived culture, resented for their public nudity. Feedback submit to heart attack live under the Seal of prudity.

Sticky shrouds hung amongst the towels. Had it ever started, it be all over now.

young women walking by with the summer light in their eyes com. Nipples are like fruit.

The Prairie wolves are back, and they're hungry for men.

And those that come after us will make mobiles from our bones drill holes to make them whistle in the Wind

The occult symbiology of future tribes.

Strange animals throughout the area throughout the area in Derby Kansas there's a Raptor bird 6 times larger than a bald eagle. it is called the morladuke. Shiny black feathers and the red talons. A brutal League second tear through a locked car to get at you. It makes its nest in deep tunnels and it's cry is like the scream of a woman being dipped in hot oil.

A ancient tomahawk came spinning through the wall of time to reach the officers forehead. A short and sudden horde of locusts stripped his body down to the bones.

Time riff garage sale, with items from every decade from the last hundred and twenty years.

Sending smoke signals from burning piles of biscuits.

Once this area was a land of steaming swamps. prehistory reptiles. Small intelligent creatures that seem like a hybrid of frogfish and man. These intelligent creatures were genocided by the first wave of Native Americans from the old world.

Nomads from another world late night wondering beside the freeway breaking up the debris to make housing. Mouth is like your pussy but your pussy says it all

Lush green corn follows the creek. It really shows in the bloated egos of the meek. These saturated dinner plates they seem oblique. But then my life and opinion means nothing cuz I'm a freak. I wear a suit of living butter and I'm augmenting myself to have a beak. My life nor my opinion matters, because I'm a freak. These might be the end times, but turn the other bleak. I'll Never Die In Paradise but at least the quest was sweet.

I'll seek the Prairie Beach. Under the soil, a bunny tunnel. They dragged bright flags.. Liberate the capital state of hate it'll feel great when they contemplate make them migrate out of our place.

cars rushed by on the asphalt blur. Limited view of roadkill Zoo for the children's limited view of roadkill Zoo for the children's to see. Fossil-fuel blackened trees unpleasing freed of my enemies.

Concentration camp by the off ramp full of sad eyed children. they're popping up in every town, we don't need these children around keep them in a convenient box unintended til they stop moving.

And the underpass has graffiti brushed with hands of human blood. Taking a left on Madison the return of those who've never been here continuously for several minutes I would have to hold you for a while huh they like that the city roads are slathered in plaque. I never went there and I'll never

go back.. Pack  a large amount of frowns into a shack.

Yeah these stupid constant even know who's fucking them they work hard to provide the lubricant. Yeah fuck you stupid uneducated assholes. America goes down as the majority Burns a little tolerance but they're a little knowledge don't mean shit. 8 people in California have to vote to cancel out one single Kentucky vote, fuck that bullshit.

These alternative World restaurants keep popping up here and there. I just entered one that has cream of maggot with a dream caramel sauce little stems that taste like pussy sweat. Succulent stringy oyster milk. The raw and softened Flesh of a purple frog that gives you a buzz that lasts about 3 hours. I try to hit these places while they are still on the map and while I have money. Delivering a dozen black eggs that get hotter as you shake them so you can cook them with a vigorous motion.. Taking them into Elder evening Avenue. Pasta pasta creepy billboard with stapled on eggs.. whacked out looking religious holy man at the address this spooky Green Building where we can go to worship something or somebody. Homeless beside the side of the road asking for donations that we cannot give what do not have. I got four bucks to stretch 9 days bro.

Now we're at the corner where there is a Stern Bank gray people in Gray suits who never say thanks. Driving up to the old shopping mall little over a hundred years it has stood here I'm in sunken my little bit into the ground I have a big bed suitcase. Fold It Out sleep in it carry your gear in it nice cool place to stuck up your beer in it.

Phosphorescent dragonflies leave chem Trail patterns as they Dart through the sky.

And the sky cracks. And I'm not coming back. Seems to be that you'll never miss me will suck you too. And the rivers dry, they poke out immigrants eyes. And when is the new job to apply to I say screw you I'm not going to be a reference. You fucked 55hard as this shit and now you're in it and you don't like it how about you educate yourself beforehand bitch. But it's too late for that, Dave repossessed you're welcome mat. You never knew where was that but you could have learned. In the land of no sympathy how much do I have for a ye not a whole lot fuck you completely fuck your dog too. And now that's too late pause, you want to contemplate how to make things great you've already fucked us baby you've already fucked the hell out of us. You fought for all we have to be taken away you fought for this nation to decay. Of course I warned you but it held no Sway and I say fuck you

It was all over before I was born. Welcome to the motherfuking Anthrocene storm. No problem keeping warm even during the deepest winter we done fuck this world. Lots of people try to warn us he'll I tried to warn you. But as long as we can consume and reproduce we're happy right? Fuck the Next Generation give me a bite.

Thanks to the Electoral College, idiots skip to choose our leader not a mass. Idiots want to choose the sociopath piece of mother fucking shit fuck that

Here we are at McFadden's Diner. We picked up some delicious orange and cranberry tea for some lucky Midwest Center as well as some sautéed Roadkill with extra garlic also for some lucky Midwest sinner delivering a little fish ball residue purifying a beaker for some lucky Wichita minion.

Now we're bringing deep fried fat to some lucky republicrat.

Delivering a plate full of calamari birthing tubes stuffed with asparagus.

Delivering some Amanita muscaria ice cream to some lucky Wichita soul.

Delivering 3 oz of bacon so crisp. And the grease glimmers in the sunlight like crystals.

Up next we hit Scrimjohns for some pickled dolphin fin. Some weed oil infused ice cubes, and donut flavored potato chips.

Delivered it to a girl in a pageboy hair do and green and silver dress.

On to the flipfox bakery to pick up some grilled chewing gum and grease softened owl beaks.

Now we hit McWangs for 200 broiled hummingbird tongues sprinkled with dyslexia juice. Deliver that to the guy with the eye in the pyramid tattoo on his forehead and the soft fuzzy blue shirt.

Off to the nothing but Bacon Restaurant where we will pick up some Tangy orange chicken and hummus tea.

Okay I admit that I ate 3 luscious frog livers from that bucket from McMex. The Taste lingers in my mouth for 45 minutes makes me sing the national anthem backwards again.

Now it's off to Grandma's porridges stop. They got the best broccoli porridge in a 40 foot radius.

We delivered that to a little Billy Goat Gruff and are on our way for the next order. Some bare nipple soup with a side order of century egg. These people live better than I ever will goddess bless them there good old American things.

Now our shift is over and we're heading off to Grankos to get a baggie of hallucinogenic puffballs. Just hold them under your nose and squeeze and breathe in deep sweet succulent bitter spores fill your nose and soon the color is get a little bit funky for 15 minutes.

Delivering some pickled stomach acid to the good folks of Wichita.

Delivering pretzels stuffed in pig intestines. Delivering gravy extra salty and a half. Delivering Soylent cheeseburgers. Delivering garlic bandersnatch tacos.

Humid times

Summer humidity like a clenched fist around my throat my knees are ruined. Wander around my tomb, while I rearrange some books.

I wear my sunlight on a canker sore that festers in my heart. I go to town to run down clowns, pile their bodies into a cart. When I state, I have nothing to say. It's cuz I don't know when to start. Come back up from that foam, place a taco stand in your hand when we're apart. Let's drink, soda till our livers explode. Unload my woes beside the road somebody all full of butterscotch and cum will pick them up. Tapping on a strap-on. I am not sure what happened I just know the soda Blues. Cheap stacks of meager Shoes full of holes. And this is a voice recognition poem so some of the words are going to fall off the map. Try to Perry my strap-on bitch slap. Melting to wired and I am too tired to take a nap. Wines too expensive I drink Roadkill rotgut blood fluid with a syringe I stick it in my nuts. Gurgle on my own blood to be on somebody else's card I've got some place to go stick me out into a tombstone full of foam. Dabbed angel get some Buzz Feed while you're still pretty because you're fading fast and getting gritty.

So apparently, Jim Morrison would wake up after hours of recovery and dreams to write some beautiful poetry. But then drink the rest of the day to stop the visions.

And thunder is the call of the back brain so ancient and it still remains. Set to read the Future I cross my fingers over the folds of leaves the creases tell what oils and proteins god releases. Three steps forward two steps back is a story of our race our people our thing. Are named, and are Blamed. Yeah that's our shame let me lay naked and freezing rain again hear the pulse of the Earth As I Lay Dying. No use of crying because it's a waste of blamed. Know style, Turnstile in this life I'm a fluid druid. My seed seeps into the sea of a knowing deep visions in a world full of tormented dirty greasy pearls.

We like our Lacks. Filter our poem through a humid aftermath. I can swim through the hot air. You don't care about my despair. You cut off all your pubic hair. You cut the voltage to your genitalias. You swear by the code of the video game don't go outside. Live in a virtual world the outside world has been folded down oxygenated. Devastated stay inside and you don't see the meth heads twitching on the street. Wichita residents walking around with sticks. Forty thousand people in the Red Hats. I couldn't help it, I vomited on your welcome mat. Nurse said soda for 4 hours. And a new generation stands, understandable. And yet nothing is new. Your women want to be sexually abused. You only go for the Arrogant Road you want someone who thinks they're better than you.

Another dirty black summer.

You can't choke out here, go outside to die go outside to die it's Autumn or maybe it's July go outside. Go outside to die.

Good baby, good fluffy little flightless bat. I'll feed you grapes and lemonade as you lie upon my welcome mat. Good little bat you're a good little bat. Beautiful soft fur that I stroke with my hand you're the best flightless bat I've ever seen in this land. Big juicy sour puffball mushrooms their a taste like nothing else you ever experienced. After it rains and they've absorbed it, squeeze that puffball with an outward explosion like a shotgun we got spores and juices you're like chia seeds of Spores is just chew and swallow and juices they just kind of dissolve in your throat with a lofty Beam the best part of summer is sucking them.

It rained so much that in the front yard I'll go for a swim. Overnight warm sea creatures have appeared seeds and sperm and eggs from the sand mix and make new creatures on this land. Good kitties pretty babies so now I dance naked, but wearing a mask made of the breeze and trash if I'm beside the road flapping leaves metal Greaves. Plastic lips on this mask that flashes in the sun with Prismatic colors blinding everyone as they go by they can't see my cock cuz they're going into the ditch from being blinded.

A walk through a house that is made of cookies. The stars are made of felt and illuminated with LED lights. It's time for a 14 hour nap. A carpet of spongy fungus brought down as spores from meteors. Climate change and the different filter the air made it happen I hope you're satisfied. Most of the grasshoppers now have bumpy Cancers and tumors all over, they look like rotten pickles now. In the sun glare so hot if you don't have air conditioning in your car you're going to die on the road just the way it goes you might maybe walk and survive. And when every day thousands die from the Heat you might wish that decades earlier you listen to what I said but now it's too late and of course by now I'm dead. No the plants of nature are displaced they had to go to a higher climate to survive they had to migrate when's in a seed in the Wind now we've got some tropical plants my friends but the sunflower is gone now the lambs quarters they're gone now the wild garlic in the bees are gone now we are liking it we say hey industrial and 2 percenters go you love everything you do is kill our soul.

A storm cloud of flies are going to strip You alive cover you with flies that laid eggs in your insides then away they fly you only have 3 days to have a whole history to build a few families and they're going to die.

And man becomes cannibal Republicans they started first they got to provide that meat for the family they saved your family the expense of a hearse for a grave being as your bones will be thrown in a ditch somewhere outside of town. And the preacher sucks the life fluids of his base as they Praise Him and wave their hands they got flags of him they got shirts that he merchandize to them. He is our savior he's making so much money off of them plans little laws it's going to fuck them over and starve their kids and they wave that flag and they follow his jizz

A little pushing and lack of Christian and the angels give up more than can be believed. Everybody is wet with bacon grease. Pomegranates grow lush on big trolleys. Biscuits and gravy line the Horizon and the war of the mice chief.

And so the drug lab in the farm takes an artistic turn. Mixing a new kind of hallucinogen with transparent candies that can be brushed on turtle shells. They catch the turtles off the roads that would have otherwise been run down by rednecks on their way to wherever they go. They take him to the lab they paint them with beautiful layers of translucent color. Blues and reds and greens and purples and colors that mix and form new Hues. Let these Turtles back out into nature. word slowly gets out that these Turtles with their temporarily painted on hallucinogens are around and people start licking the candy off of shell and tripping. If nobody finds one of these turtles in time within 3 or 4 weeks the rain and dew will wash the trip away it colder hallucinogens runoff them in the colors will be gone.

More trouble every day

I'm just trying to drag my flask past your banner. Your Manifesto is written in Play-Doh your flag is unfurled . And tripled Vines rise wind their way around as I try to sleep in that hammock. Inside the Echo, nobody knows nothing.

A parade of Flesh stands on Summer Street. Naked but slowly enveloped in tattoos til you can no longer be nude. The shadow in the alley slides by with a greasy belching soon as out of sight other sayings slime trail behind some kind of protein broth procreative fluid that just drips constantly down his leg. A group of overly aggressive fat wide lesbians have captured a priest on his way from the church and they're forcing two or even three fingers up his ass and swirling them around. I would help because I'm kind so I offered him thoughts and prayers as I walk away and leave him behind. Just as his butt cheeks are starting to bleed.

I am in a field and the damp stickers and thorns are shining like stars in the bright sunlight. The humidity makes me Weigh 3 lbs. more than I should be. Fields of stickers chest-high you can catch several hundred as you walk by. Nature fashioned them to prick your fingers as you pull them away from your shirt and jeans. But in the near future, they'll be no stickers or thorns. All produce will be grown in space and cost a lot of money to put in your face.

And the humid dawn has hands. To strangle our lands. Wrest out steaming water from the Earth.

I wake up in the morning, and I see, a Central American style step Pyramid has suddenly appeared looming over a line of distant trees. I was all alone, but even if I had a phone I couldn't speak. I think I had been dreaming about this happening for a few centuries. What does it mean?

Slowly the air around us turns more poisonous. And we don't notice, because we're told not to notice. Thorny fist closes on us are windpipes choke shirt but we're told to be okay with this we're told somebody else is doing it and not the actual choker. We like what we're told to like we hate what we're told to hate. Above all do not question. She want a good job you want me enough to eat God. Want some of that money? Don't question just keep on riding that conveyor belt towards the meat processing blades. You will like it, Jesus saves. But there is no master plan, there's only the work of greedy hands. Greed depletes ever grayer lands.

Well we need some new gods. Gods that reflect our Modern Way. A God for everybody a God Who pays. Some sort of God that has actual morals the first time, a God that is good. A God to restore my eyes, a God that is actually nice. A God who gives good advice.

And so we sat cross-legged in a room. Smoking dried herbs that fell from the Moon. Smoking petrified tobacco from a 1000 year old pipe. Discussing politics folklore, and bands that we like. Saying how we once felt free in that strange pocket of History. And I would show chipped and broken artifacts a thousand years old. That I found while walking on the dirt roads near home.

And so I spend my days in a swamp sweating out fluids as quickly as I drink them. It's so humid there's a soft fog Haze over everything in the landscape. Like a greasy swept Hazes the filters the sky with oily deposits.

And she breaks my door in at 3 AM, displaying her vaginal badge I'm under her breasts, I'm under a rest. I'm cooking up a secret drug made from the bark of a certain tree and 7 types of weeds that grow locally. But I bought the seed for the tree 30 years ago and it started producing a certain chemical in July. Trying to cook up enough for a Winter's Supply. To concoct a psychoactive liquid that gleams I learned the tricks from a shaman in a dream.

So now I am old you see, and I have no money. Not even a ugly woman can want me. And my soul dry heaves. But Society is a vice, playing a loaded dice it's Snake Eyes for me again.

Will we survive to see fall?

I live in a house with rotted out walls. In the morning I got to chase out the Toads, snakes, raccoons and possums the occasional coyote gets in there. Wild animals raid my food I've got to slide my bed against the refrigerator to keep the raccoons from opening it and exploring. And when you're broke life is boring. So I live on road kill, rock hard French fries from thrown out bags of fast food meals. Spattering shattered bits of broken candy on the sidewalk we stepped on. I inherited this house, but it was falling down before I got it.

Meanwhile, our hero is dying from chronic illness. Laying on a couch as he dehydrates on TV is the big climactic chase scene.

The butthole him of the republic

All these country hypocrites all around. Layers of it astounds me. Judges amongst us. Who are no fucking better. Strange times, when in my red State I find, Mexicans and blacks who are white nationalists. Oh those Jack Boot motherfuckers Marching against yourselves. Homosexual Donald Trump supporters turns out he didn't have your back like I fucking told you you should have known the facts you should have been a little bit more aware what the fuck is going on bitches. But it turns out you weak bitches need daddy figure to fuck you up the ass.

A desperate Meadow, a mental ghetto. Thought share teddy bear on the go with a Ruck Sack. I'm in the mood to protrude off the roof you know. 

They Linked UP, and do the tattoo ink suck. They drive a truck through a fucked up City half covered in human poop.

The prairie altar

Snakey heart, line up the lacks. The floor is infested with tacks. Stripping off society's mask. Broth of the stars congealed in a flask. The voter's ballets on a burning raft. Pull the void through a guilded path. Drag you naked through a sticker patch. Born confined we like our lacks. Do the math on these fossilized facts. In a tub of vodka I take a bath. Before you where born you missed your final chance. Snakey brain whirls out past the gates of insane. So I exceeded at burning down everything I needed.

Summer snow and winter heat waves fold us into shallow graves. A big lack of angels, a total lack of God. There ain't no Sheppard watching the barn.

Marihuana completes us I have a list of grievances. Fine me and break my spine but I still believe in the sacrament of flower and leaves.

Bake a cake of roadkill toads.

The sky is choked with omens. I left my infection in my other pair of pants. It just depends on whether or not it ever ends. Drop it in the sink, where a vest of ice when on patrol. Inside these bones ls my sticky soul. While making a burden bargain fold the night around your hips. Taking jello slide shots on a sinking ship. It's raining talcum now. The black shroud wrapped in layers of warm rubber. Gentle winds stir my shacklacked spirit. So I paint someone else's self portrait... Then forfeit the profit. Chubby kids mock my skeletal frame. Dead folks dancing in the rain. Ugly druggies complain about this unfair world because they've be framed. Spin around and break your chain.

The spun out sunset oxidates and fades. The lonely nugget priest remembers a haze of days coated in mayonnaise. Satan has the keys to my place. The sky is choked with omens. Wrecked necklace translucent displacement laid out shouting on the pavement. I wonder what the grave meant. Put a bullet in my mullet.

A whole home inside a tight barbed wire fence. Bony joggers collapse in the alley. Spaghettis angels on the corner spitting out teeth. We fill fulfilled after a plate of ghost beef. The underside of the abyss, the stinging whiskey kiss. Automatic attic, talcum frantic nacho stripper pole. Dressed in a vest of living snakes. Lost a branch varnished in glitter somewhere along the lake. Fondle the lock. Chug the anti-frost. My unflag is furled. I didn't see that obvious billboards warning. But I don't need to be reminded I've lost my mind and it's a fact I have to shoot synthetic crap to go on living I should have died years ago but since I'm alive let me slide sandpaper up and down your ego..

The devil dropped by to shampoo my pubes. We are all out of happily ever after. Hanging from the rafter. The choked choked my bray of laughter. My knife is a disaster. Smitten by a titty twister. Blown up by a nuclear bong. Full automatic Doberman. Spread eagled, angled across the land. Eating candy skulls with my third hand. Beating plow shears into swords. I'm going to stab you in the lord. It takes one to sew guns. I'm making puppets think for themselves, give em guns and the state is overwhelmed. There's no one to blame but someone else. Feeling up the devil in the sub-basement of the church. Unpraising Jesus for all that it's worth. Reverse rape of his virgin birth.

Dripple diamond apon the fall of sky ink. The juice from other planets quirks my mind think. Rent a cheap room that's just a bed with a hole for bodily functions. I am disgruntled. I scoop up a little crystal coating from a meteor vape it in a double heat pipe. Full of fungous cravings in the anthroscene.

Is it too soon to lick the frosting off the stars? To plunder the ghoulish fun of a buffer under-run? I'm going east until my life's complete. There I will eat my feet. The sunset frets it peels off rain. Spice it up with a cup of die-fructose porn syrup. One nation under dose I am wearing a spray on coat. Smoking cobwebs in a curvy glass pipe. There's nothing to do if I do what I like. My mind is out on strike. You can only find truth with your head in a noose.

This is the nation of palpitations, I take back the darkness, vomit glitter on shafts of lard. Summer fist, I probably don't exist. I burn a candle that resembles you. Unplanafesto freedom scheme. They inserted a monthly charge for those who dream. Send me to the glue factory before I succumb to the mighty nightly fuck you. Smoking dried cicada's in the storm shelter while I think about you. Wind up meat priestess.

Sipping bright soups from steaming beaks. Slapping my chest in time with the pulse of the world. How to go to hell on a budget. The streets are littered with dead bloated squirrels. I am concerned about the state of the world, so I roll out the dead carpet.

Enjoying coffee in a glass house. My best years where spent hammering out my mental dents. The road folded now we have nowhere to go. It's not about who you hate, it's all about who you alienate. Bury me not in the city, instead leave me face down in the prairie.

Glide into a rusted rambling ride. Claws that fling translucent egos. I ain't gonna cry, just put on my blindfold it's soothingly cool it's made out of gold.

It's an awful law that holds people down. Get depressed, protest. But no one hears you on the ground.

Late summer and the fields are full of toads. In the roads hundreds of crushed ones assume an agony pose. Children dissolve them in acid to collect the bones. The voices of drunken neighbors sound so close, but I catch no one on my armed patrol. The nights are getting cooler and soon summer ends. Leaves shall decorate the earth again. The humidity shall leave me alone disconnected without a phone. Cold moan a dry sack of brittle bones.

We are walking away. Walking away. Walking down dirt roads past pastures of cows, walking past abandoned farm houses. Rusted out trucks in the yards. Walking so far, walking past upside down burning cars. and charred bodies are inside bullet holes in their heads. These are different times and we are walking away from it.

Walking down city streets where wrecked cars block traffic. Shoving our way past Fascists who try to block to road alpha males chanting Nazi slogans. But lacking balls they are posers we drive a wedge through them and their lies and move on to the countryside.

Moving on through unlit tunnels that reek of opened bodies in summer heat.

I'm stumbling now, a drunken bum just wearing a towel, but down the road I'm going.

Now it's over I pissed on a four leaf clover The last box turtle I ran over This is how it's over Watch the next moon landing on cheap meth. this is how it's over

Cluster fuck, red tape, the vape escape pilgrims with grim chins. My manifesto written in sidewalk chalk. Nothing of it remains soon as it rains., This is how it's over.

The rains soaked everything turned to the roads into streams. Gale force winds blow the beard off your face. Especially you ladies. I've got a silver bullet for every tumor in my mullet. I've got a candy scented leather hat, dim times and all of that.

I was soaked with wine. Black wine, those where feverish times. sneak into that abandoned mansion by the creak that would carry down stream golden leaves. I was in my teens, dressed only in tight and ragged jeans, my mind gleaming in horney madness. My crotch was steaming. You could brew hot tea on it.. We talked and drank all night by candlelight. Prophecies, philosophies and heresies came from a drunken we. some mornings I still awake with hangovers and think of those far away black and feverish times.

Coffee syringe, caramelized brains, cinnamon binge. Acidic protest. From up the sidewalk cicadas reckless burning twist. My underwear is full of thorns, light provided, list of scorns. Keep me in a box that is locked to protect an indifferent society. A copper skinned cock sucker on a lint binge. Blinks headless people onto frozen meat cots. flounce for an ounce with a weaponized grin.

Fire dancer in a frozen meadow red sparks fall like rain erase chase in the country out back expose fossils from the future

all that is here will go go the speed limit or maybe a bit slow the new flag writhes above the plague beggars get handed hard boiled eggs instead of change

the mass's needs make effigies the new flag is unfurled crush the state with dope

bring me to a grove of sacred trees torch light incense fashioned from local plants walking naked and high tonight

what's up my sleeve? I've got a lot of thoughts You can't conceive peel back the facts give you all new needs dance while you bleed

fold two fucks into my hat stare at my scary unwelcome mat eat your pussy til I get fat then I find you flattened on the sullen road

And so it goes so it goes I'm on the road got nowhere to go That's right nowhere to go

It's not right you know the night lights up with glowing snow the snow is hot like a fever the roads turn liquidy and bubble in a drippy flow

and so it goes so it goes if you don't have a new car they want you off the road so it goes get out of this city unless you have expensive clothes and the right set of status symbols

so it goes goes goes the city filled with bloated dead food for the crows they like it you know

take a stroll devil takes your soul breaks your body up feeds it to the proles feed it to greasy greedy beaks below and god does the same on the other side of the flame it's pretty lame you know

the devil dragged my baby to hell and god dragged grandma into space and ate her face heaven is a torture chamber with a smiley face so it goes

Lizard gasp last flask clicking sheets together trailer park fringe of a kratom water binge flowers sheathed in leather tickle bitch cluster flutter armpit shudders convulse til no pulse living close to a battered butter splatter nacho bankroll pumice ever after meat dream on a guitar string vast empire of a pants fire pickled pipes minty after life feed meat identify spiderweb floss at the freak colony cheddar harness if you know better you'd better warn us hike in parachute pants across the forest beckoning blockade inviting banishment hands statutory allegory fondle grope basket cuz your asking for it psychoactive worms squirming through my bloodstream makes a chemical reaction that leaves me all greasy local ladies won't date me but they slip things in my drinks to sexually debate me send me a truckload of cherry scones drive out to the puppet pit, it's a chore to do when your all alone

Like my new hairdo? My bangs are fangs. My sideburns are spiders. Hand me a lantern and I'll walk right beside her. Underrated, eat bonnet escape from the slammer. Moth collector decorates a smock of shiny inflatables.

If I had a puppy for every time somebody asked me that, I'd have a puppy. I strapped a merkin onto my merkin. I'm eating mummy jerky right from the bottle. Eat a baked potato right through the foil.

All is well unless your me. Buying expired insulin in a back alley with someone's stolen debit card. That's how I roll, I crumble, I was born dead you know. And its only gotten worse. I sleep til nightly I am awoken by an injection from a random burglar nurse. So I braided my hangnails. Watch me scoot off the roof. Lucky me! I found a whore leaf clover. Brand new feelers of a bright star. I got a cement block dried around my head, can't see, can't breathe but somehow I'm not dead.

You've got a merkin wired by an electrician. Its nutritious to chew when It's on you.

Yeah yeah, fuck all that consumer tumors holding a baseball bat ditch clad kitten bardo strange musk touch us brazen fuck stab Butten there's a serpent in the groin stretching machine boil then recoil syrup flows from diseased beaks

Mysterious gifts

A year ago I received a black skull in the mail. It was in a cardboard box with used band aids for packing. The skull was stained black and very old, probably ancient. It looked like it had been underwater for decades or more. I placed the skull facing me on a shelf that overlooked the place where I slept. But it seemed to bring me disturbing dreams, and I laid it to rest in the shed out back.

Two weeks later a letter arrived, and like the skull box there was no return address. Inside the letter was two dried flowers damaged in shipping. And a hideouts looking paper doll, yellow with age and wrinkled into a tube that was flattened from being mailed.

Four and a half weeks went by with no strange things arriving and I thought that was that. Except one morning there is a six pack of black cans on my porch in the morning. Still cold, like whoever left them did so a half hour or less from me opening my door. They looked like beer cans but they where unmarked, unlabeled. I took them in and checked carefully to see if maybe someone altered the cans to make them that flat black but I could not see any evidence of tampering. I opened one and poured it into a glass. Green juice that smelled of liquor and dill pickle. I sipped and it was strange but kinda good. I ended up drinking all but one. and I got so drunk I passed out in my bed and pissed it sometime in the night. Found my refrigerator door hanging open my whole jar of pickles eaten in my blacked out state. I still have that last black pickle beer in my fridge. I keep it around for novelty sake.

Someone, probably neighborhood kids broke into my shed last night. Among the items stolen was that black stained skull I had hidden under a bunch of other boxes. I am the same time am glad and mad it got stolen. I hope they don't think it was murder and call the cops. I don't have any drugs, my contacts dried up a couple of years ago. But I have a couple glass pipes that would be found if there is a search of my home. A month has passed and no police raid, so I guess I'm safe.

Nine months have passed without the arrival of any strange gifts. Part of me is relieved. Part of me feels like I did as a kid, when I saved up and ordered things from comic book ads that never arrived.

More bids

Chapter not

I'm smoking weed and drinking whiskey on a human hair cot. I think I will drink and smoke here awhile just to spite the president/God in the Whitehouse. That dumb God with a mullet, that dishonest populist.. I may lay here a week, maybe longer each sip and each puff makes me feel stronger. More immune from the propaganda tune being piped out our god king's ass up yonder.

Dented expectations mass surveillance nation. Trans-Atlantean mucus powered rail car raises lumps on the bumps of waiting chumps. All is well, unless your me. Buying expired insulin in a back alley with someone else's debit card is how I roll. I was born dead, and then it got worse. My sleep is disturbed by nightly injections by a burglar nurse. So I braided my hangnails and I paced all jaded to the nearby store. Sprinkle some stevia powder on that one.

Yes I can shoot my handgun with my boot, watch me as I scoot up the roof. Lucky me, I found a whore leaf clover.

Ive got a cement block dried around my head, I cannot leave and still I'm not dead.

You got that real thing going down, going down. You got ivory skin from livin underground. You got that spasm skeleton that inverts your frown into a grin. Skin binge, on your labia I'm going down, wipe your grim into a grin using my special towel. You got surgical butter and a spandex gown. Spin, grin, backside scowl. I suspect you overdosed by staying too close to your smartphone. Even in a group we are still alone. You got glitter coated bread you got phosphorescent butter, you got friendly udders. You have a spare snake in the parking lot.

You've got that pubic hair bonnet with dyed purple turkey feathers on top. You've got two similar breasts and a microphone forged from oatmeal. You've got that pain pill that weighs a pound. You've got an inside out dog that leaves wet spots as it follows you around. I've had it up to here with you, if you were a man I'd be queer for you. I'm a hostage too.

This is not a song it's not music This is not a slogan and it's probably useless

This is not a cock it's not shoes It won't help you walk its not straight talk from the heart

It's not your favorite show its not a freedom rainbow it's something else it's bad for your health it's bad for yourself

It's not the Bible it's not THAT fake It's not purity its no crystal lake It's not your born day it's no birthday cake

This is not a suicide note so you may as well close your coat not a magic carpet ride not a shot glass of liquefied cyanide

This is the afterlife. But you thought it was just life. You punched your check you earned this wreck. This year the mythicorn blows holes in your jaded soul. Like a clear cat, it will show you where it's at. This is the funishment, the eternal prize of our re-bored. This is a hand like a wrench in a placid storm. Its a endless breakfast without coffee. Its sticky stars and fruity meats. This is the handshake that breaks your wrist. This is why you shouldn't have to exist. Its a suit and tie made of maple syrup. You approach motionlessness with a frenzied spirit. A gurgling river of herbal shampoo flows between me and you. A flaming soccer ball made of cheese.

Come and buy a life supply of going to die.

Burn the detention centers deport the government all hail the satanic elf

We can hear screams and moans. Someone's really getting messed up in that shed on the other side of the road. So many people there are cruel and low who live on these country roads. They may kill your ass and do it slow,. I live out that way, I move by night and sleep by day. Its hide or die for me, and thirsty I be. I'm a late night tomato thief. Steal a chicken to cook and eat under a bridge. I can never stay in one place too long. Sleeping tonight in a cold hay barn. I have not spoken to anybody in three seasons. They hate me, I hate them. We have our reasons. The extend of my social path is to stare in the window as your wife takes a bath. If you catch me you will try to take my life, won't be the first time. When the blood muzzled dog sings, the bastard laughs and cackles while the firewood crackles.

Crop duster dive bombs houses, lets the chem spray coat them. Cancerous babies in the womb, oh how the insecticides bloat them! Bloat coat crafted from stillborn baby leather. Meanwhile I'm on a vodka binge in the Icey wind. There's a burned out upside down car in the ditch. Into it I crawl to forage. But I get my hand on burnt exposed brains and jump out bumping my head under little fluffy clouds.

The green branches of trees are beckoning in the rain I taste the distant sea and the puddles in my bone marrow wallow in our hallow history

a metal dinosaur skeleton wets the crops in a clear liquid kiss the moon is holding our hand the night is with us

pressing wedges of cheese into diamonds giggling behind the curtain water gun filled with moon dust busted bridge dips cars into deep waters

oppressive spit bath and the end of summer late night cook out in the ditch a fist full of flowers bee choked honeycombs choke the moon mists down silver dust on all of us black beads hidden in the ash of our chimney provides the cure to endure all that we need

The season turns, you can read about it on the leaves that crackle as they dance over the land-And the children string along the branches red and green cut out cardboard hands.

a season of harvest. Stock up for the winter reading our fortunes in the spots on the fallen leaves

this time of year the elders glue fall leaves to their beards tell stories strange and weird if far off lands and days

and at recitals children play flutes carved from the femurs of their ancestors black and orange,, red and green its harvest time when humidity leaches away into the sky and rains down fevered dreams

and now a parade of the middle aged the human symbol of autumn and those who throw black and orange confetti grenades and the children will sleep tonight on piles of leaves red and green cardboard hands hang from strings in every classroom across the midwest

a tradition that predates the written word

The dusk landscape

The dusk landscape is full of sound, pumpkin beer and corn whiskey. drink to your friends, drink against your enemies. Lovers shamble off to fairly secluded spots while others laugh and clap and recall every shifting tales of folklore like it is still pure and from the source. Tales the recede back before history. To a time when other species, cousins of Man would stand among us.

Ok now, dance and bow before the horn of cornucopia. Cinnamon incense burns every few feet. Looks a threatening storm might come and drive us inside to eat apples and squash and drink some more. later tonight give offerings to idols our ancestors carved or forged.

The booms clacks and rings of found percussion complete the night. Pastures where ten every ten feet is a gourd with a drink for the dead. The veil between worlds gets thin this time of year. Spirit fingers dialing you up in soft morning dreams.

I've got a unthought magic. I started a new obscure religion., Feast me me every three days on bacon pie and deep fried rain. I make leather shoes from road kill. Can't you see I'm a inviso-bell. You are a smile without a brain. Your a picture without a frame.. I can't take the pain so I'll leave it some place and leave you staggering here. I am rather fond of roasted roaches. I'll cook them on your lawn. My sunglasses so dark all is black and all is stark. On the brink of the edge drop off a locked fox and a coat made of bread. "Paint my nipples with snow", is something Nero never said. Goblin milk sold in warty jugs. Its late in the season, bad news for bugs. Napping on the roof until explosions shook the block. So the secret masters and the secret baters wait outside of this disaster. Like vultures it is tainted meat that they are after.

Oh how that red dream roils oh how my fevered brain boils oh how nothing has got its thumb on the scale

oh how my years with you could buy a acre in hell ring the phlegm bell I have a special hatchet I only use on angels

we a mass neck in a noose life is a death sentence and no ones getting loose and the afterlife is built for fools

stow it away throw it away get on a boat and roll it away I'm afraid I don't remember it dismember the tag you flagged on today

tolls tone true undead deep blue

blue moan thumb I doubt the lines that form the plan I would go back to where I'm from but it no longer stands

---

the world is smoking toxic fumes got you choking those who enter these gates abandon hoping

the night is serrated digital devils paraded in our brain waves those who fall to the clocks call are broken

marching bands of angry incels find Jesus and condemn women to hell the devil is a woman she's owning George Soros as well

---

Blue fluids poured onto a languid fever. The stars beam strange codes down on at the crossroads. And the chem trails spell your name. The fever pushes tiny pearls out of your pores. A sponge bath in a mad season. The body barf with bank oil. Lurch out with the sore toils. The fever rings a midnight clock. And my head boils. Marching wind up clocks lose their spin and crash down again before they arrive at the dead end. Blue fluids sold under the counter in convenience stores in the mad side of town. Alleyway nap when the world tilts to a sick angle. Pre-packaged matters of fact attached to the wall with slippery tacks. I'll meet you in the secret hour. The frozen moment not on clock or calendar. We shall meet in front of the secular bath house. Unhappy smiles and grim nipples face me from the other side of that pistol. I will drive to the place where I'm alive tonight. Blue fluids are our tears as we march for a cure for being pure. Salted carnival lightning wrench now groping my third eye. I'm alive in a ragged cardboard box I live there with a fox.

A pageant of scantily clad gadgets. Crumbled fame in a gunny sack. A place to paint my face with colored glitters. Make a new menu that includes bits of me and You. A somber dictionary to peruse. The profiterian business man stands, another bullshit patriot.

A strange new eon is on the way. You can't delay it with the things you say. Pretty soon under a velvety moon a strange eon will hold sway. The new nude uniform. Burn a stack of Bibles to keep warm. Apply suave to the eyes of a dying Man. There's a new flag flappin on the land. Hiding in your backyard grilling roadkill on a hub cap. Strange animals no god ever planned now roam the land. The statue of liberty does lap dances. Dip my toes in a cold lake of diet soda. Tip my cat pelt hat to the new flag. Under the bacon silo is a mime with a bullhorn.

The night is full of sticky fingers. Butterscotch lingers ten years after the 21st Smokey kiss. I wander softly into the frosted night. A nuzzle to the muzzle looking up at the funnel. And my guns out. The lake is choked with polyunsaturated snakes, coffees, cake, and salty puddings from the low lands. I'm chewing on my own hand. You've got to chalk that loathsome valley, You gotta mark it by yourself. I don't need you to be sewing me to my enemy.

A meager believer, a fever Another fine to limit my mind, mankind is blind. A swift eternity between strobe light beams fed shadows to me. Biscuit regrets, smoking by the calliope. Sanctioned pistol black rift sandwich. Reconstitute the ashes of a witch. I dreamt about my dreams. Forecast the laugh path outcast. I would make a stand, but they capped my knees.

Never go in that shed or you might get a snake bite. Be laid out on a cold slab. Wait out the rain cloud with me. We can have some herbal tea. I can feel my heartbeat in your jeans. Under the rusted out stars we can fish, if you go underground bring me back a black peach. Lets nude suntan on a deserted beach. We can stack rocks and carve driftwood idols. I'll teach you how to pick lint from my bone marrow. You can help flesh out my shadow,. Seven wolves gonna take my throat seven seas going to float me some toast. When I die, place pepperonis on my eyes, I hear that Charon is a hungry guy. I've been smoking cobwebs in my den. Making new gods out of compressed fog, and going on a kratom water binge.

This year is going down, this world has a lopsided spin now. outlaw hides his chin behind his beard now. The aftermath the bigot war clouds in the now forgiven, kept sacred things in a concrete place under the lake. The coffee priests, the vermin lord. Good people fall to the Jesus sword. Gun toting right wing hoard. Kill off the last coyote with a primal roar. Fender bender of a nationalist march. they go to burn down the parks. Get naked, until it's dark. Get buried into a statistic.

Under the tunnel pageant, the Resorter of strange buttons. The Victory lap of the undistorted. The great bong Beyond! Soulless Windows Overlook a vacant lot

Shimmy down the alleyway, break a lamp and feed the strange. We've got flowers that feed off the darkness. I gotta chocolate shotgun. You can eat it, you can shred a burglar with it. Go into the world with your glow friends, deep fried chains and gelatinous whims. Sure is dark within. Spin around a sinkhole on a kratom binge.

I'm going to buy enough freedom to last a week. Going to rub freedom sensuously up and down my nub. A whole rental pre-paid week of freedom with my gun. Its mine, I won't share it with anyone.

Make a lab to process Mormon tea into meth. Yeah, supply the whole country. They shall tweak for freedom. Gonna lock myself in a cage, lay down while I slowly age. Why all this passion, why all this rage? Its all about freedom. Clear is the new red white and blue. Clear is the color I shall tattoo all over you. I'm sniffin glue for freedom. I shall shoot any kid who trespasses across my yard. Shoot many times shoot really hard. I'm glad I'm packed with greed, so glad in fact, you can't go in that room in the back. Because its packed with freedom. Hey, that's MY flag. Don't salute it or I'll shoot. Its my planet can't wait to dilute and pollute it for freedom. I'm a red white and blue dude. Granddaddy was a druid, drinking high octane fluids Gonna rob a bank, stick the riches in my homemade tank Grab fistfuls of steaks, I'm ablaze with freedom gonna wave the flag now hey don't stand around the flag ain't gonna wave itself freedom in my face wave the flag hard I liked being fanned by a slave do it now or I'll introduce you to the grave its a hamburger made of freedom freedom go freedom soul suck my freedom injected with rock n roll cash in my 401k early so I can stay in a land of freedom I'm like a pendulum of freedom greedhead bedbug shrug its wave the flag day every day I sleep with my ar-15 I can never have enough freedom its true to stock up I take some from you

---

city life festival nocturne gotta be harvest moon invest just another kratom water midnight cricket ritual mood for thought my lost dream journal

---

Its a nervous go its a closed road ice cream cones and human bones I'm going to explode a oversized rat Watling across the road undocumented aliens passing through by the truck load The splinter group broke up into even more fractured factions I sleep in the wind my dreams full of disturbing actions the wind whispers hints of distant whimpers they go into strange postures trying to dance to that strained rhythm of yours

a dank taco stand where you are allowed to do a handstand a forest kiss the end of Man like we planned it blue fruits juggled by brutes ladies think the brutes are cute but as it comes to by later that night the brutes rip off their legs to get better access to pussy and ass a million crows blot out the sky a beacon shines and we are all going to die hide in salt caves to escape the grave

Sunshine soul bone. Floppy meats parading down the road. If I was in control, I would bend them into a fuck fold. Savory meats wiggle down the road. Percussion flaps from the wooden flats. People cast evil masks to the sky with ululating cries. The arc lights illuminate the road kill priest. A uniformed bump on the street. the magic corn doll in my pocket. I move in. Dip my drum sticks into vaginal lubricant, a holy deck of cards tell me what the future meant.

African lions now roam the American prairie lands. The tree branches decorated with strings of red and green cardboard cut out hands. They wave like friends as the flap and clap in the wind. Angel of death roaming house to house, taking out whole families moving north to south. Philosophy from a babies' mouth. Prophecy and vomit flies about. A fever that brings strange dreams til everything is out of its holster.

Doom bells ring

Doom bells ring in that little town. A end times forecast is going down. And everyone has some Pagan gear hidden somewhere near, it found by authority's you will be hung by the close of the year. Doom bells ringing in that backwoods town. I get a cold chill, fill up with goose bumps as I hear that sound. Reading tarot cards in a burning house. A hooded brotherhood with questionable accounts. I'm am stealing graveyard dirt to build my burial mound. A tall hill of stolen sacred ground. Well I raided my family's graves raised ancestral powers in bone mobiles that clack in the wind. I'll blow sleep dust in your face while you sieve with distorted dreams. I suck the energies from your life blood. I do it for America. I catch a midnight buzz for America. Put a bullet in your head when I'm through with yah.

So Mack Gurglecheese set out for the morning walk. A grand time and he brought along three sticks of colored chalk. Mark marks his territory with symbolic angel knees. He walks a cracked sidewalk past proud but sagging trees. We knows what he needs, and he is on his way to achieve. A long peaceful walk allows his mind to calmly face the troubles and promise of this new day. He will be high soon if he gets his way.

Mr. Gurglecheese has walked two and a half miles of cracked chalk stained walk and through Owl's gill park and he is on Friggish street. He knocks on the yellow door of his friend, weed contact, Erms Clusterbonnet. Erms instantly opened the door, he must have been fixing to go outside from the timing. And Erms has his "My last name is Clusterbonnet shirt on, the blue one.

There was a four minute awkward silence and they stared at each other without a word. Then Erms said "Come on in Man, got some cherios kush, tastes just like the breakfast cereal with milk. We also got a little strawberry biscuit and saltine cracker with a dash of coffee creamer kush left, just a couple grams though". Mack decided on 3 grams of the breakfast cereal smoke and the remaining strawberry biscuit and saltine cracker with a dash of coffee creamer kush. Mister Gurglecheese listened to his friend/weed contact discuss what its like to be sued by a demon lover, and how Cindi Baconpants was holding up.

A few puffs and giggles and our Man Gurglecheese was sent off with his baggie. It was a wonderful walk back home. His mood elevated, happiness beaming out of him like a low watt flesh beacon. These are good times, no matter what God says.

Dark days rolling near. The unfortunate winner of a secret, sinister lottery. Chanting strangers in cars with their windows rolled down at the stoplight.

Dark days roiling near, boiling fevered thoughts, back brain locked. Unseen fingers tap your bedroom window while you sleep. You only hear them in dreams. Humanicide chemicals screw us out of everything we do. Lab rats, scab rats lovely chemdeath block for me to chew. Angel pubes on a glitter smudged highway. The city smells like cheeseburgers. The inflatable island of soylent dildos. Scrawl and flossbones. Every corner packed with razors. I look sharp in my aborted fetus leather coat.

I do what I can to strengthen the beast. Caught in the coil of the serpent don't recoil. Enjoy all the succulent sins. Stick my snake skin in and swirl it about inside your pearl. Unfurl the world, your a satanic girl. Suck your nipples, exacute all the angels. Ensure the natural purity of our scourge. I'm yours, darkness greats you. I have boneless meat for you. Satan loves you. Evil means freedom. Freedom means get off your knees unless your gonna suck me. Suck meat, drink mead. Freedom. Don't get caught in the dogma. Don't be bought, you'll suffer alot unless you reject Christianity. Go freedom.

Wrong is right, fly a flesh kite. Forged from the skins of our Christian enemies.

One nation under a snake all nations under a blood lake fun national orgies when we are free

---

On the edge of the field where the shelter belt borders. I am hiding here because I refuse to take orders. Howl along with the coyotes late at night. I am not right, if you try to catch me, there will be a fight. Then leather cut from your skin will make material for my kite. I'm resourceful.

Who's going to lick the glitter off my swollen shroud? Who's going to swoon under the moon and phosphorescent clouds. Who's going to dip low to lick up the milky drops that spurt from my soul?

Chewy cowbell scuttle cuddle. Frontal nudity sodomy tea. Coffee treason, leaves in the kingdom. Cheese hats flipping on the fluted plains. Biscuit lottery pie shoved into a foreign indignitary's eye, weasel launch like of years gone by.

Wax paper mango vapor you can't escape her yearning churning guy scraper.

I've got a cobweb heart. Wearing Crimson spectacles as the Moonlight starts. You should see this chart, it's off the chart. Cold Vapors from a Fallen star Crystal. I have gathered fallen leaves and bird feathers to weave into a blanket keeps me warm as I hibernate in the ditch winter.

Journal found in a ditch

Dec 4

This morning I dreamt that I worked with a small crew at a convenience store. Customers would piss and shit on the bathroom floors. But I never had to deal with it. Some other employees took care of that. The crew here where all buddies who hung out together. They would get together and hang out after work. At one point I am outside. There is a seven and a half foot tall humanoid creature walking in a vast empty abandoned parking lot. This creature had green fur. I followed it joking with it, a one sided communication. The creature is not offended by my green humanoid jokes, but I did bore it.

Dec 5

So nice outside in the sacred evening. I'm smoking dried snake and listening to a late 1960s playlist from an alternative world., The walls of the family home are decorated with ancestor's bones. Some bones white and new, others yellow, cracked and old. Seventy thousand cigarettes have been smoked in this house no one lives in but all stay over in for a few weeks during intermittent hard times. The oldest bones go back 190 years and they are pocked and black.

Dec 6

Finished another rereading of the collected works of H P Lovecraft today. Befriended a stray tom cat I named Stranger. Fed him my last slice of baloney. II live in my car and it had lain around room temp for a day and a half anyway, The cat was happy to have it. Good times.

Dec 7

Uncle Bony died last night. He choked out on broken glass under the overpass. He was always a wild one, so many times he had passed out in a puddle of his own blood. That's all over now. I'm moving out of my car tomorrow, and inheriting his shack. I'm the only living relative The rest have died from artery erections, or profound flatulence Murky times.

Dec 9

I wear my best, but still vomit stained shirt to the legal office of Holmes Slamson to sign a bundle of documents and the place is mine. My druggie uncle willed me a odd green and black house. The lawyer handed me papers to sign and gave it a skull shaped key and the place was mine. Lawyer showed me quickly to the door. Those without money are seldom welcome. But now I will have a roof over my head until the government kicks me out for not paying the water bill and property taxes.

Slept in my Uncle's house last night. Opossums have moved in. They scamper away when I walk into the living room. I had uneasy dreams and I caught a bad flu last night. Throwing up, constant runny nose and no Kleenex. Snot rocketeer spraying the cold floor with milky green clots. Slept most of the day, getting up to piss, relieve my parched throat with glasses of water. Misery.

Dec 10

Still sick, a repeat of yesterday with added fever dreams. One meal of chicken noodle soup. And at 7 pm a snack of hot beef broth that lends my sick body a little strength.

Dec 11

Spent the first part of the day dragging my things from my car to put inside my new home. Arranging them. I don't have much anymore. I had three guitars but when evicted from my apartment I had to give them and most my possessions away or leave them there. While moving in and arranging things I found a baggie of uncle weed. Pretty good stuff. Now I'm gonna put my journal down and spark up a number.

Finally over my illness. It's a good thing I don't have a job or I would have been fired over my prolonged sickness.

Dec 24

I began the serious work of hauling out trash the covers most of the floor and furniture of my uncles to various apartments dumpsters. This morning the hard work begins. I am careful to search all I throw out for any drugs that may be hidden within. I have already found a 20 dollar bill stashed in a shoebox that was otherwise full of leaves and flat rocks we called "skippers", In my childhood. My uncle could skip these rocks all the way across the pond where we would fish when I was a kid. The pond is gone, it is now a corporate office of the pollution bureau.

Dec 25

I found a half bottle of vodka under a stack of clothes that where moldered from a leak in the roof. I drank it down using tap water as a mixer. For such a shabby house in such a poor area, my Uncle's water was always good. Good and crisp, He told me that there is a small aquafer under the block he lives on. A quarter mile underground body of glacial water. He claimed a green reptile lizard people lived down there. Three feet high and dangerous with sharp talons. He said on certain full moon lights he would sometimes trade them bottles of booze for strange gold and silver ornaments. He always seemed to have some degree of money, but I think it came from selling drugs. I pretty much wasted the day away sipping vodka and reading my Uncle's cool library of books. I became a book worm in grade school reading his books when I was over. He once has several hundred but he left me a large bookshelf packed with treasures like William S Burroughs, Franz Kafka, Poe. Lovecraft and many other oddities. Many of these books hard cover first editions!

Dec 27

Taking out lots of trash from the kitchen floor. Searching each bag of trash. Sure enough I found more money. Sixty seven bucks! In rolled up bills and a little baggie of oil black powder pellets. Looks like its some sorta drug. I'm thinking about trying some. But I have no idea what it is. Ok, so after pondering about it for a couple hours, I decided to take that black drug.

At first I tried to crush a pellet over a piece of paper using an expired library card and a lighter to smash it. But it breaks up into greasy clumps that smear the paper. Unsnortable. So instead I got out "Old steady", a wooden marijuana pipe I've been using for 35 years. I packed a thin layer of tobacco from a pack of cigarettes my Uncle had owned. Then I sat some shiny clumps on top. It smelled like black bacon from an alien world. I don't smoke ciggies but it made a base to hold the black drug, and as a sorta filter. OK, here goes.....

It tastes like burnt plastic with a whiff of of bacon and chalk. Its hard to burn into smoke, I really have to work to get a small puff. I spent two minutes waving the lighter over the black substance and inhaling to get two small hits. The lingering after taste is nasty. I swished water in my mouth and opened the front door to spit it out onto the withered lawn. Of course a police car happened to be going by right then. He slowed, gave me a hard stare, then sped back up and moved on. I don't feel anything yet after a few minutes except light headed from puffing so hard. I decide to lay in my bed for twenty minutes to gauge if I'm feeling anything. I don't even know it it is a drug. After waiting twenty minutes the only effect was nervous tension. So I began hitting the pipe again. I learned better how to hit it now and I got a big coughing, choking hit. I coughed hard and drooled for a couple minutes. It felt like my lungs where full of hot Elmer's glue. I lay back in bed again to wait another twenty minutes to see if anything happens. Soon as I was prone on my back a vibration feeling started in my lungs and expanded out. A odd strobe light like visual effect kicked in as I stared up at a H R Giger poster my Uncle had taped to the ceiling. I was coming up really fast. I felt like a stuffed toy filled with itchy electrical fuzz. I became worried that these hard fast hitting effects was from the small puffs I had taken earlier. If so the massive cloud I exhaled is going to really fuck me up. Strange feelings I cannot properly describe, flash floods of emotional bursts. Mad laughter morphing into tears. Fear. Images of plants with sharp teeth, walking on white roots. A total love for all living things smoothed my muscles as slack as they can be. The feeling was like laying in a bed of soft warm butter. A warm spreading slack, euphoria like the air was massaging me. I lay in a field of energized peace for about an hour. All muscles loose, all cells widened in a wonderful relaxation. The muscles tightened and I began to shake the visions began. Normal colors became hues that you can only see on certain substances, for there is no colors like them in the physical world. Bursts of flashing color patterns. A heavy feeling that the world will rip apart any moment. I realized I have about 23 hard trips worth in that baggie. I wish I knew what drug that is.

Dec 28

I came to at 10 P M tonight. 16 hours lost. I woke up naked in bed, with no blankets. The blankets are still missing and I searched the house and grounds. I had a long bloody cut from nipple to belly button. Not deep enough to need stiches but painful. Dried blood on the mattress. The clothes I had been wearing are also still missing.

Dec 29

After making the 28th entry, I slept the rest of Thursday away. So exhausted. Woke up 11:30 AM after a series of bizarre and distorted dreams. I can feel the weight of a world that hates me pressing against my spinal cord. I can feel the deflective energy of the world pushing up, trying to repel me into space.

Dec 30

Still trying to piece together what happened the day I smoked the greasy black stuff. I never found my blankets or clothes. Bare foot prints criss cross my front and back yards. Now its new years eve and I am totally drunk. Drinking to damn out another bad year. I guess they are all gonna be bad years for now on. 

Jan 5

I was in jail for a few days. The cops came to my home with a warrant for my arrest. It seems that about a dozen people reported a crazy naked Man trespassing on their land. Some had video evidence of this. Apparently I killed someone's dog when it attacked me. I remember nothing of this. My last memory was laying in bed while open eyed visuals took over my brain. I have to go to court in four weeks. I'm going have to get a state appointed lawyer so it don't look good. I think I shall smoke more of that weird drug, why the fuck not at this point?

---

This is the end of the journal. It was found in a ditch 20 miles from the city of Ashbloak, Kansas. Our investigators have been unable to trace it to the unknown author. It goes on for another 14 pages but these are all crude sketches of sex acts and random scribbles that look vaguely like magical glyphs.

the fiddlingbitch and other myths

A carafe full of freeze dried finger.s Linger on the shore of a vinegar lake. Take gasping nibbles of my saying something. Suck the very air of my lungs while your at it.

Chewing venom gum war cloud pizza dust macro tic tacs to vapor chirp serpent moxy dust bullet go kit. Walking through the dark side of town and I don't want to be seen because it makes me frown. Sinister gifts and a bucket of fish. A bubble shower on the high plains. Suds rain down from passing comets, a circle made of felt surrounds my dream.

Cluster funk in the basement by dusk. Dirty midget rumble in the back alley, cleaver Man doing a severed handstand-Hateful platefuls of venomous stew-Wicker casket with a scented lid-Armed alarm clock, the future of a fanged slang talk-Rides across the boiling river, creamy edible pill bottle whiskey nude and full throttle into the discount fountain of clotted clocks all shoutin "I got a backwards lie, put it on your belly I've got a extra pair of eyes, but I left them in my other pair of pants".-

I've got at least a couple knees, groin strike to my enemies-Going to Easter land with a couple French fries-A river crusted with drowned moths

Darkside strip frowning leaves heave beard focus frost kiss-Moss kick stitched up my dick a fun of bricks shake to the meatplow taco walk-Silver soylent mister spock spoke choked on wizard smoke, drawers full of vomit and hope

Donate your guns to homeless Psychopaths. The after wrath. 

4 inches into the forest and I am already starving for porridge. I guess I'm going to have to forage.

They say I'm outrageous they say I'm contagious. I'm a plague. The big for me to leave. Give me steak by the lake if I'll leave. All day the snake by the lake instead. The snake will give me my daily bread. Makeup on a cross Vegas no loss make uses dental floss on it denim things good stuff. Getting labor beams making Lady Liberty cream with my violation of the Constitution scheme. Freedom hate freedom.

Veggie fire! Crimson Caravan Pizza Man rooms a burnt and scorched land. Oatmeal Palace Canyon plan no Liars past these Gates without a basket full of hate. . Carousel wreck murky Oblivion hat and we get mad at midgets. With bright merkins. Cooking sea monkeys in the skillet. Crisp crumbs brown with sugar crystals and mystical worm farms in the distant now. Clocks in bondage a blank book becomes the year's best seller. Celery for an itchy King, I stand naked. In my bacon cape. You look out the window then draw the drapes. You never find another freak like me in any landscape. Whatever floats your boat. Till it bloats. We get the bitter roots. Cuddled up and convolute the Twisted chains of Liberty, on our knees dreadlocks cast into the sea. Sarcasm sarcophagus twist M. Bus for strides in a barbed wire us All Is Lost we found our paler Underground, hip deposit medical cow trip. Medieval Town flip clown stripper with ice hardened nips abandon ship flip the script, hostile naps in the land of synthetic dental floss.

Drift

I drifted for two days on a raft that I constructed out of debris and trash from local ditches. An aimless float while chugging booze and snacking on beef jerky. Strange reptiles would break the surface of the water to snap up low flying dragonflies. I had never seen such creatures before. Something like frogs with alligator jaws. I had left my phone at home so I didn't get any pictures.

Where the bunnies live

Pung Bunny woke up softly and slowly in his massive bed. He was wrapped in blankets hand sewn by his grandmothers, his great grandmothers, and his great great grandmothers who died before he was born. Legacy's of love from old Women who had long ago been eaten by coyotes. Pung was a fluffy white bunny, pudgy and lazy. He scratched between his long ears and tried to recall the dream he was having before he woke up. There is great wisdom and advice and warnings in dreams. After a bit he drifted back into a euphoric sleep nap. He got up and did a cute series of yawns and stretches. He went outside to pee on the bright green moss that covers the ancient sidewalk that forms the foot roads of the bunny community. This cracked sidewalk was the only remaining sign of whoever had lived here before the bunnies came in desperate exodus from a past war. Nary a brick, a wall, a well exists from those who came before. The moss on the sidewalk was pretty and fed exclusively by rain and the morning pisses of the bunnies. The ones before seemed larger then the bunnies who live here now, based on the size of this sidewalk. Only speculation is there as to what the former people here where like. Some say it was a small city of kangaroos who meditated in soft grasses. Grasses altered by hundreds of years of natural selection. Some say it was a coyote town and that you can still hear their ghosts howl in gusts of angry wind. Still others say the sidewalk is a relic of a far future time. Pung likes that last theory best. He also likes a hot cup of dandelion and spearmint tea grown in his garden when he gets up, He lays down thinking about tea, but this time he does not drift back to sleep.

Pung would never admit to it but he was part cat. His great grandbunny, had a lover who was full blooded Manx cat. Tomcat Jones. Jones was a folk anti-hero in his time but he is now mostly forgotten. He Impregnated endless animals. Rabbits, bunnies, hares geese, rats, and even a bald eagle. Jones died in a rough bar when an angry beaver shot him down for flirting with his woman.

Off to work. Pung files paperwork for the community. He basically puts the papers in clay cabinets where they are never seen, never consulted again. The filing office is the biggest building around here, it is expanded every three to five years to hold more forgotten papers.

After his five hour work day Pung and some co-workers gather at the lucky Human's foot club for a few drinks of alcoholic nectar. He meets a pretty bunny there. But after talking a little while she realizes he is a nice bunny. She leaves the place with a skinhead. A nasty looking bunny the skinhead is. Strong and stout, built like a pit bull. All shaved bald and pink white. But Pung expected something like that would happen when he saw her "He beats me it must be love", shirt. Oh well within two or three years will have had the pretty beaten out of her. She may crawl back to him but Pung doesn't date scar tissue. Too many nectars later and Pung swivels home to pass out in his bed. It is big enough to sleep four. But he almost always sleeps alone.

The day is off to a frothy start. Our laying protagonist is layering all sorts of plant morsels and frosting the layers with the tangy sap of the tum tum tree. In less then three minutes it is ready to eat. He enjoys this crisp meal with his favorite tea. He is in his back yard where some colorful flowers are planted to attract bread and butterfly's. They are fluttering all about sampling the savory nectars. The light meal is now devoured, slow and with great joy. Bunnies eat light, but often, an average of 11 meals a day.

Then there came a loud knocking on his door. Bunnies knock with their feet. Pung slid his penis back into his pants, for he had been making an entry in his masturbation diary. He opened his door and there was Scroaty bunny! they exchanged a brief hug. Scroaty brought some wild strawberries that he had found on his way over here. "These where growing in the hills!", Scroaty told him. The hills are actually ancient buffalo burial mounds, but the bunny folk don't know that. The hills had everything from sand plums, to sweet heartberries, even these small but rich tasting wild strawberries. They consumed this find along with some fresh green onions from Pung's garden. They had a pleasant talk about mutual friends and recent news. Mallow bunny found an ancient can opener while digging potatoes. No one he has shown it to has any idea about how old it is. A sink hole opened up just past the over pass. A huge hole and deep. The pretty yellow and green birds known as budderbeaks have not returned from their winter migration. Not a single one has been spotted. They have the most beautiful and complex bird songs in the area, even featuring solos.

The two bunnies then broke into some onion beer. They sipped and chatted while playing an ancient game that used painted rocks as game pieces, and old driftwood with burnt in numbers as dice. Scroaty won. He had amazing luck with games, but very little luck with most other things. Pung's oldest stick dice had been in the family for 123 years. They shared a hand rolled damiana and skullcap cigarette. It was past time for Scroaty's long jog back home. He lived a few miles away and darkness was inking the sky. He had planned to leave earlier but the bunnies had gotten too absorbed in their fun time....

Scroaty began hopping homewards. He waved at a couple bunnies he knew as he made his way from the community with its houses made of layered sticks leaves and clay. Further down the road he stopped to exchange jokes with a inky black raven perched on a tree branch. Then it was into the gently rolling hills that surrounded the community. The hills where really ancient burial mounds where tall poles are decorated with rusted massive windchimes that sang in the breezes. Pung was halfway through the hills by the time it was full night. Chills ran through him when he heard coyotes howling all around him. He came upon a ring of turkey feathers from a recent kill. He went on his way a little faster now. Scroaty kept thinking that he heard stealthy foot steps, so he stopped and erected his ears. Yes, there are more then one things trying to sneak up on him. He looked behind him and saw a coyote dodging behind a tree, too late to escape observation. Scroaty broke into a frightened run and the coyotes howled tactics to each other. It sounded like there was dozens of them. Our desperate bunny found himself surrounded by coyotes, grinning blood thirsty grins laughing to each other about a savory meal to be. Wild flashing eyes. Scroaty moved forwards, dodging left and right looking for an opening, the coyotes snickered and adjusted their closing Circle. He was trapped. And it looked like he would not see another day. " Why this big concern, don't Get your bowels. In an uproar, it might spoil your taste!", laughed the nearest coyote. Scroaty Why was filled with adrenaline and Dread. The coyotes were closing in the circle getting tighter. , snarling, drooling. Scroaty Made the last desperate play. Sprinting like a quarterback to try to break past the coyotes. The coyotes are not fucking around. They have a philosophy, life is meat. They are clever. Society rules Are he who brings down the meat gets the first Savory bite. Dagger gets the Take down. As the bunny rushes forwards he gets a good bite on the right leg He jerks his head back and forth and gets a half a mouthful of savory meat. Scroaty screams in agony a high shrill sound. The meat energizes dagger the coyote. Energy that pops and crackles up and down his spine. Pleasure. Scroaty Screamed in Terror and agony Is the Predators moved in and began ripping off pieces of him to devour. In the morning all that remained. We're a few bones. And some Tufts of hair. These remains were never found. So the bunnies fate was never known. But many guest it properly.

Pung has a peaceful night's sleep. He had a series of dreams about his ex girlfriend. Who is now living far away and a spooky underground commune. He wakes in the morning. Hungry for something fresh. He pads out to his garden. He pulls leaves Off of his purple green shumis plant. The plant screams in high-pitched agony that only other plants can hear. Golden sap oozing out of the ravished wounds. So good, so crisp! PUNG Thinks with pleasure. The plant continues to scream hours after Pung is gone.

Another shift at work. His ex-girlfriend, Panzalia Works there, too, as usual she ignores mim, He ignores her too, and it pisses her off. He would not return to her under any circumstance And it pisses her off. She doesn't want him back, but she does want him to want her. So that she can reject him over and over again. But Pung is done. Pung finished his shift and he went home tired. A shot glass of carrot whiskey and off to bed. For a 3 hour nap. Another dream of United bunnies and rabbits killing a coyote with garden tools. They sing a victory song that he has only heard in recurring dreams. And that he now Knows by heart.

Pung wakes up, he goes outside and piss feeds the ancient sidewalk moss. He tends to his lovely garden. While bending over to pluck a weed he hears an arrow whizz by his head to lodge into a tree with a woody vibration. Before the arrow is done quivering Pung has run inside! Fucking rabbit raid! Part of the endless skirmishes between the bunnies and rabbits older than history. He pulls the rope that bang a warning bell clang loudly let the others know about the danger. Other bells starting ringing all around. He throws on his leather armor made of assorted road kill and he grabs his crossbow and his long thin sword. The rabbits are after they're gardens!

Pung nerves himself up and he goes outside into the curses and shrieks of battle. The rabbits had four massive Jack rabbit mercenaries with them and they where fucking up the field defenders. Pung aimed his crossbow at the nearest Jack rabbit and fired, but he missed. But the bolt tore the ear of a rabbit raider and made him emit a high shrill cry of pain and outrage. Lady rabbits where throwing tomatoes and okra into bags while their Men tossed torches into homes and fought to keep the defending bunnies back. A circle of rabbit archers rapid fired at the bunnies injuring several. Pung crouched behind the cover of a Tum Tum tree steadying his crossbow on a low branch. He took careful aim and squeezed the trigger, again he missed the Jack rabbit target, but the bolt stuck into the forehead of one of the rabbit Women, she fell dead dropping a stolen tomato dramatically. The other rabbit Women ran off in panic, many of them dropping the stolen produce as they fled. The raid was over and the rabbits fled in retreat, grabbing dropped bags of stolen food where they could and zig zagging in a desperate sprint.

A great victory for the bunnies! Only three dead and nine injured. The rabbits where driven off with nine dead and a unknown number injured. That should make them hesitate before trying it again any time soon and they didn't get away with much produce. Nor did the trample very many flowers. Pockular Bunny wrote a folk song about the battle on his two and a half string harp. It was popular for a few weeks before Brang Bunny wrote a folk song about turnips on his reed flute and ear mounted tambourines. Pung tried to write a song but he couldn't come up with anything usable. An amazing song came to Pung in a dream but he forgot it in his rush to get to work on time. It could have been one of the top 14 thousand songs ever written by a bunny if he could have remembered it. But another day was close enough to done and he lay in his cozy bed early. Nothing wrong with a couple extra hours of sleep. He out quickly and he fell into a dream.

Pung is in a cow pulled wagon being driven by Frilic Bunny. Frilic is a lute crafter and a excellent blue berry grower. In the back seat was Scrieve Bunny, an annoying asshole on tagging along. He insulted Pung and Frilic the whole ride to the rally. Scrieve would roll down the window and like "Tight pussy feels just right!", and "Suck my cock you bitches!", to just about any Woman on the sidewalk. The friends had about enough of that prick. Frilic parked the wagon and they all got out to join the festive crowd. There was a sexy bunny Woman standing in the crowd that pulled in all their attention. They're cocks rising like mushrooms after it rains. Frilic strutted right up to her and began his less then smooth talk. The bunny friends took the chance to return to the wagon and drive back home. Away from that asshole Frilic.

The End

the newly ancient

The tainted pumpkin Saints inebriated "What's the point of merely fainting" They contemplate? Regrets it be spoken. A very strange Sweet cheese. We gather together stick out our tongues and catch the flakes. Moaning in a Harmony. Strange tracks of unknown animals pock the landscape every morning Stay up late trying to catch a sight but no one ever has so far. I've got a heart like a bong. My bone marrow consists of sweet dreams and swiss cheese. I apply fresh lies to the pile. I smile like a stalker as I walk behind her. Let's defrost hour ambiguities. Cobweb pillows playing to everything. Severed hand jobs. Bright plugs wrap around our ankles. Knights of the sudden storm. Braided Cascades of senior citizen porn. The talcum covered after land, people afraid of their own hand. Boots made of leather moss and broken hearts. Feeling good chewing on wood flakes. You got to save me from the residue populists and their Mercury mentalities.

A new and chewable lubricant hits the market. People dance when they see it in play. A holiday for the strays. A bridge coated in mayonnaise. We often chimed our clocks for Better Days. Oppressed by the ways. We are Hollow and so are our holidays. Overuse of new Pharmaceuticals bring strange new eyes Your microwavable American scandal, I'm a big fan. It heats up the land. Pieces of red meat cleaved about sometimes you shut up about that. Microwavable mammal faucets. You're like a shaman. It's like eating Ramen. That consists of your Merkin kiss and the night is getting Young. The hours are running backwards now. And you're the plow I'm the cow. Super float Battalion one. Nacho Barony suitcase in the sky super tubular boob jobs for Anubis. The host of all uncanny vegetables. The hook nose hooker with a book about liquor. The tiny little heart that you can't step on cuz you can't find it. The needs of the wanton fetus. The blood dead Rich coats. The dirty mayonnaise sky. 8 miles of tacos It's a menu for which you must apply. . The forlorn scorn of the mourners. The chicks throw bricks at us. Androgynous meat bonnet. Socialized Skype Isles. Crocodile tears in a vape dropper perfume satchel. Terrible Saints deliver salty Whispers. My tongue is a sponge. Repeat some of the time. Career in the alley on my way to the valley. My tongue is an ear. I'll lick you till you disappear. As well as your career. You're not wanted around here. A frothy everlife alligator wife. Who brings bright beaks to me in the evening. Who chortles at the pain of our leaders as we suck out their brains. Already I dislike my new skinhead neighbor, and his constant illegal firearm practices. Soft movie soufflé Cant you tell her that's glamorous on any new bray. A barnacle bunker. The midnight summer. Intolerable hats on the heads of the unknown. So many new cold miles I can't keep track. When in Dark Places I watch my back. .

Here comes the lonely chortle Patrol. They are now Above the Law and they're out of control. Give absolute power to idiot rednecks and people hang from poles on the stretch next. Tomorrow's fossils clock my fruit. The more I learn, the more I bloat. . We could wire up Wonder worms taking notes. People hiding human heads in their overcoats. Lost Journey this unmitigated migration of spices & herbs. They set up a stand on my curb. I really dig it and I hope it's what I deserve.

Chittering pillars, a breakfast of roasted caterpillars. And unprotected forest reduced to stumps. And what seems like more minutes? To be unhappy on Lookers. One Nation Under a soar store authority God. Lots of rules goads fools been down four. Sudden skanky Vermin puddle. Greasy storm on a midnight parapet. Golden urns drip water down silver drapes TV maggoty ground. We found the ambulance chef. Inside Out seahorse greets you at the pier.

Those bread whiskey shippers. Blind to the polarized sunset, merchandised merkins March in unison. Along the cluster tongue. The April Queen in her nacho headdress. In the breeze the tree branches wave-like distorted arms. A soft rain comes. We drift in our bread boats. Chewing on the prowl. Unhand that churn button.

She shakes her tits as she strides full of swollen Pride. Thinks better of herself than of the world outside. Born to be spoiled if your credit isn't high enough she recoils.

I have been watching her over the last few years. . Losing her freshness but hanging on To her arrogance. She thinks she can still twirl. In a world that will forget her dents.

Me I'm the lord of the flavored pillows. Watch them shine on the assembly line. The fever Vines of distant times. Inconvenience spontaneous orgasms feathered masks and silver flasks. Nude in the shampoo Que. Wave hello to the already gone. Detox your dread locks. A bright menu of edible shoes. Popcorn porn. Priest arrested for fondling her cleft. The silky goddess with the nacho headdress Sultry and tangy, and her eyes flash like diamonds. When she walks the good things flow. Where she goes healthy crops grow. she gives blessing touches to some cows and now they're not allowed to be eaten now. She hands out Boob feather fans to left and right hands. Her beak can chant strange facts for a week. She wears a dress of spiced cobwebs. Smells like rain. She rolls golden Scrolls. And sends them out. Forest Glen middle Beats

The nacho Queen has got to be a sick little thing she has a beak. There's a Tree on this free League. We walk like wooden freaks hide our cheeks we got to respeak the Unspeakable tweak. There is nothing wrong with the week that can't be fixed with a jackhammer and a bench. Little miss Angel bunny Bonnet Shivers in the storm sleep and rain and snow and Back Again. She pulls my clever lever. That's why we're still together. And with these incense bones I can change the weather. Corn dolls pitched into the burning Heather. You should be grateful that I am so hateful. Because now we can build walls of colored chalk. Let's Dance for 3 minutes.

Float a vast raft to shrug land. Freedom marks the spot where we were marked with chalk. Stop the clock. Oh, I want to get off. All praise the resonated Dental cape My phone follows me on little stubby legs. Cast a flaming Branch into that pit of mayonnaise. A well buttered Antichrist Rode along with the Archbishop of bad advice. The mighty breath of the pickle Saint's all lined up with a handful of prisms. Watch their hands, stretchy fingers across our lands. The billowing wizard Of rectal erections. I pulled out and came on her favorite Bonnet. Midwest death wreath decorated with elongated Stars and Crystal beaks. Surgical tools made of candy.

Wingless crows scratch the way across the city streets. It's a silent hour. These sounds are like symphonies. Secret servant meant disease. Crunchy homo nuggets 27th centuries. Boss on the horizon of And enforced Universal handstand at the hands of a tyrannical Mad God. God of Beaks and beakers. The chief of grief. He programs all your blisters. A cosmonaut caught in a sea of snot. The wandering porch. A plateful of satanic waffles.

Well, cut me in on your blasphemy scheme, I've got a contribution in my jeans. Show me the salty mollusks of my. Sultry salted misty dreams. Skin waffle super truffle scheduled death of the great alarm and all the time they don't hire me. That's why I'm here with Super salty croutons in my menu of fish and nubile wishes Super Phone phobia. Go. Ultimate turkey shoot in the wind and the snow. Vibrations of my clitoris over the goal. Automatic insemination, one insemination under our nation with libertree 4 all.

A Woman is driving

A woman is driving. Long road trip. She pulls into a small town. Nobody walking and no cars on the street. Pretty generic looking place. She pulls up to a building. And she gets out. Locking the door and arming the security alarm with a press of her car keys button. Cute woman about 28. Straight black hair. Small perky breasts. Skinny thing. The redneck inside the building gives her a map. Of the isolated cabin she is renting. She drives around while and gets lost. She pulls into a dented and fading gas station. Rednecks in Maga hats eye her lustfully They make critiques of her breast and ass in both creepy and complimentary ways. . She asked directions. Aarmed with the Rednecks instructions. She waves her way to the thick trees. The trees grow tall and the limbs. Blocking the Sun by stretching across the road into each other. She's at her cabin. Rented for the summer. She begins sipping copious amounts of vodka while working on her novel. Hanging out on the deck in a skimpy black swimsuit. It's so quiet here, only frogs, birds, and jumping fish to break the silence. She is writing a short novel about a female space Explorer. On a solo mission, she lands on a planet of hunky men. They're only man here. Do children grow from their ejaculations? When they fuck donut holes. They bake Donuts. Only as sexual Outlets to be used eating them. Another batch made next they're horny, which is often. .. She changes the whole Culture by showing a Chosen Few. What a pussy can do. .

The end

Mid-west mythos part four