something about misfortune.

// this is only gonna be up for an hour or so

underwater head and the taste of some fruit
rolled up carpet at the foot of the drapes
plied up floor boards
boar tearing things apart
bored with how it’s set to play out
still set on boarding the next plane to something else
boeing seven forty seven flying but my mind is bouncing out

so i’m dealing with the world
or what’s all crossed out
not highlighted up
but there’s stars next to words
they’ll be suns when it’s here and when it’s somewhere that’s close

moon in the wind
and i can’t scratch my head
these last five in a sling
as i can more than comprehend
four walls in chairs
have a seat at my table
can have whatever you want for dinner
this not like that
this non demanding table
and me in simmer
to see what i put forth
catching change or at least shelter from the rain 
my way with my fork 

just sorted through and cleaned up my laptop. put a lot in retrospect and definite ghost tears in eyes or wishing the suburbs weren’t as asleep and pin drop routine to let out a hearty scream. screwed up and silent storms always found where i lived. sturdy though and feeling pilot enough to paddle and paddle out past the rubble for however long my life asks of me

we need some poets in this place to listen to outer space
i believe we’re on to the fields
because in the past we’ve strained less
and we’ve fought more
and now it’s all too wrong to see it buried under pavement
as if we’re laying with a broken back rest
to be awoken in the morning
sleepy, back tired
each day like this is a wish to go back to the night before
it’s like a chiropractors test
given to a man who’s had enough
to be written out with his head down while he’s snoring

no idea is a doesn’t know
we’re cold from smiles
in the governments mobile
we’ll run for miles
with everything we know assembled into one giant big wheel
the task is exhausting
turning into our coffins
spinning the cities
this murky managed busy
and we’ll never know
what we could have known
a car is more to have when it’s something more than a single wheel

ambivalence
in everyday’s trance
many have attempted to feel free
scaling a fence
with a pulse running tense
many have attempted to break free
shouting their stance
from the flags of their camps
many have attempt to find free
like this we’ll never see
like this we’ll poison our last river with poison made from the bark of the very last chopped tree

“the best things could be”
is never what it seems
markets arrived hear quick
but they see us change hands with out compassion
with the worst parts of nature’s flowing magnetic action
they’ll burn the easiest to reach combustion
so take me quick to the first green shimmering community’s assembly luncheon

Before anything we must demand an end to the world’s major health, housing, and hunger problems. For we all arrived here by chance and the history is a mess and it is us who do the rest.

Surrounded by what could be so much unique we stay in our hotel rooms unaware that this is a pledge to never become some greater and stable other. With something about the concept of hotel rooms and always and always a bill. And still farther away it’s all still done. All that bad stuff with wars and not long before now with major wars. The legacy leaves us on edge to a mysterious degree in our imaginations and our bodies on this lock-in on up rollercoaster, which mite not have been smart to be made in this state of our comfort bed too neatly made, as if to say it’s not for sleeping.

If we do nothing we will pull the wagon of work and the strong hand of power till the marvels wear off and become unattainable to all the different you’s and me’s. Leaving us with the regular, the aging regular, the never enough regular. We all carry different weights. If we don’t care about each other, each tugging his wagon, many will fall behind and you’ll be missing them when they collect in bulk. Sure the regular design may scoop them up when need calls but you’ll never know what could have been in their carts.

So if we are to seek a fight to change our lot for the sake of our future lot, for the sake of other’s lots, for the sake of the possibilities we do not yet know, then we are commendable and brave and worthy of respect and we will be weighed and considered and then either fought or negotiated with. The sides of the shape are neatly made and if it falls that we are fought, the castle walls are thick and strong and we will likely loose or dig up chaos for the strong arm always leads away to persistant rain clouds, then adrift in the haze, then all too similar days. When you seek to move past the rectangle of our present and history, the one which refuses to budge an inch and which is overall a terrible place to sleep, you need a shape that is whole. The kinds of theories that set things off are grasps at a shape we do not know. They are calls for a shape, cries for a shape, even pedestals on which to place a shape, but they have never been material. The chisels have always been thrown aside for rifles or been employed for cosmetic alterations. Livelihood is always either cradled and guarded or tossed aside for a war path but never has it been turned around and built to fly. Perhaps it can be now, us all having reasons why. Too many have been out of the loop for too long for the minute amount of alleviation this old design can rectify. We built this world on one track and with cars this heavy, without a new supreme architectural map, we will never get off these tracks for a free drive in time to insure the sky wont pass away early and die.

To instead find and raise giant flower buds from the garden of what matches. To ensure a clear pathway. To grow up in a garden. To grow up. We will be swinging around with a new language that sounds whistled, hummed, and sung. In an italic kind of sound. And people will break down the melodies to obtain production producers. The machines that entail more than escapism. Some day far away when it’s all negotiated and the maps have autonomous regions that are neither apart of them nor that far seperate and removed from them, every single night and day will be lived happier. Every day life will be set up to produce for you what you need to know. There will not need be careers but instead an organic specialization, ability tested sure, but reality flow insured. Propped up with meccas and centers much more vivid and multifaceted than college. Never a city and never a town. Just varying densities new scapes all around. An eternally rising customized glow.

And they will let us have it. Why? Because when you surpass money you’re after stability and this climate of oppression, we all know roughly its temperatures. All seek a mind that does not melt or freeze. So past acceptance and after years of refining and after it’s reached far past schematics After the words on the pages form pictures. In the time when the movies take us with them. With a new word for utopia, we’ll finally have new shapes that are the pinnacle of geometry laid down and countless everywhere as welcome mats. To be rolled out all over and we’ll wake with a rush of feeling, once we reach this brand new timeline there are so many spots along it worth being at.

Like a jar full of onion
A spur in your motherland
I’ll take you to another
but not right now i’m bothered
In the pocket there are whenever you want them keys

Bored and wars wish list and starve
Sandals cars and whiskers growing out of your eye
Not today I’m gone tomorrow if you ask my bones
They’d say they were always aching to take the wheel and drive
The only space ship people will ever really travel far enough to really live any time soon
Is a new anarchy
So excessive everyone spray paint on all the streets and walls
In demands for as long as it takes
To say everywhere gets better show us how

The trees on that barge are dry
Gonna make a splash
Gonna get them fed

The water
Impossible
A thousand waves that I don’t understand how they break
A thousand splashes
More plausible
Mite just give them something to drink

A couple few thinks
Could they rescue what’s on the brink
“or is it really”
Well how am I to see
When branches filled with slime and leaking in
How sin is a word but blasting everything

Understand your vices but
We’ve still rolled into a lack of the niceness
And the religions are still a twiddling wind thing
If there is a planet there is surely a rear end

What a worse place to hang out
Out the meaningless roof of our vocal shout outs

disconnect at my house
for every time there was a bench
this molten green withered flowers in seconds
disconnect at my house

this happened a few days later
connect
at my house

we have an icon like a sail boat
but we also run the steam rollers
watch out for that and woosh past juggling chugging things
around an amazing grasp
but still blind blind blind or eyes closed flat

i’m back on the cliff instead of taking bounds off it because i could gravitate upwards and downwards and always make back to the cliff against what ever kind of wind force agressive breeze
and because you could turn a flashing atom of observation into a car of any sort

does the tide of the beach go farther out to the beach than it ever comes back?
or is that just the portion we can see in our incomplete lighting?
really at a visible unseeable level it’s mixing and matching and never the same ocean
and is that how power structures is?
the varying bank accounts
an ever going jousting match
and lounging living in the stands

so it’s not shaped to get things done
it’s hard positioned to make repairs
where is the everybody agreement?
in the ultimate of freedom for what doesn’t alter for other’s
and high beams to see
how much this place is gonna take
how much there is left to take
extraction of parts
from the mountains that are bony elbows
of an at ease one of what we are
who all got scooped into a mega cortex of growed gloed experience
just like the radiating buzz of a bee that is here and stirring me
that’s still there when i’m sleeping it’s the thing that’s beating in me
as my beat in the house pumps homeship bluish greenish planetary solar trail going living relation of purring sphere whose brain is always stirring and allowing us to exist
and whose moon is an appendage to better see   
and we’re riding upon it we’re in surf ship our hair it’s brushing it
but yet we’ve taken to drill through it
and we drain what is made out of and all i’m saying is maybe we made a leak
whatever again, how much is there to take?

not talking of patience
just the stuff you use to make shit

for sure there is a good enough frisbee match
to catch all disks and gather round for a rest
while twiddling at the model of a bird standing leaving that alone but 
interlooping and reworking the pieces of its nest
just explaining fresh spending
and realizing there’s not one group to talk to
perfect point mode if you put some extra aim into that pass
turn the lights on realization or better calculations is A+ advanced

material reserves 1: _____________________
material reserves 2: _____________________
material reserves 3: _____________________
material reserves 4: _____________________
material reserves 5: _____________________
material reserves 6: _____________________
material reserves 7: _____________________
material reserves 8: _____________________
material reserves 9: _____________________
etc.

Give me another lick other than the psychedelic preposterous
Iceland Greenland these states won’t sink or freeze
But what’ll happen when the thing pointing at something is pointing at way less?
Please no quick suit ups to be mean
And no monstrosity of that sea sick empty sea

That’s when I realized. That ice cube tray under the sink. When I took it in I knew it could be another object. And then everything that we make is translatable to different shapes with the organization of the mines paying little dues but making deffinet shapes on a world lounged out always a pretty fast thing to realizie munching on grapes