a double-down clique
-or-
future endeavors
-or-
future endeavors
i sleigh down an imagined chimney, but words are magic, and i work in ways not seen since
earvin borrowed my nickname. a companion in search of meaning, threads woven through
different realities: it's a doctor of british fame. disparate but connected, rudolph
maybe (definitely) a metaphor for my message, a messiah complex surrounded by magic and
it's iterant surrealism.
^
i arrive in a blue box, labeled anachronistically as a police way station (or telephone
booth); an unconventional conductor. drawn and quartered, my missions always seem to
involve subterfuge and sex, also known, i think, as the 'seductive santa.' unfortunately,
everyday is not a holiday.
^
awash in unconvention, i notice my pole is melting; i need a good lawyer (or secret
agent) to combat this problem. violently, my mind wanders in quick succession of
questions: can i trust that girl, which weapon would i choose to use in a confrontation,
and maybe most importantly, can i continue to perpetuate this indiscretion? who knows...