the sun rose red
in an ashen sky
my failing was fast food
and an instant
i am constituted of methods mistaken for madness by those who believe so strongly in ideas they have fixed to a chain in the backyard. we are not made up of thoughts of us. they can cuss you out to kingdom come. cursing’s what they made of. go and live your life. I am constituted of good will and fire in the belly for a creative compelling outcome, manufacturing something rare of high quality…
i keep my rebellion
under lock and key
i sign it out
by photo id
I wanna be locked in and deliver you the greatest highlights of life, blown out in cursive, bonded by word, trailing our infinite press.
i am finding variations on life, between or within days. may be love i experience or pain. may be a cold environment follows the friendly calm of tonight. nestled in my domain listening to chimes and fans beneath the weight of interstellar nihilism.
the cat cries out for no reason and breaks my sleep. now I know between these temples. Coca-Cola. the red can got the better of me.
my systems shot like nerves were years ago. I cannot hide. never again.
I believe it is good to be part of what is to come. Always a change. When you become it, staying exactly with it, they see you embody a movement and you can be credited, thus, you are the movement. This is not without dangers. You may rise and fall. You may lose yourself somewhat. They may disinherit you when the fashions change. I tend to shy from movements which are both conscious and public. I may identify with some, partways…yet I like to create space and step aside into it. I prefer my own rhythms. My own movement. Yet even personality is perilous. Life will go on so — become.