can light be dense

leaden-lined-playbook
  -or-
a blank ledger

no response, just reaction; actually i am confused if there is any distinction. i let the

sky fall by a beast in a southern wild; ergo, you can't touch this hammer reference, post

haste. actually born in kentucky, the man hardened our moral fabric, a true django

unchained. get the gist, strengthed by blood-splattered cotton: i'm not playing at amour,

just an expert at pop-culture.

a hospice of delight

ideas in thrice
  -or-
the shield
  -or-
s.o.p.

de-located, craven like a layer that's cratered, i still braid. comparatively, my
hole

was smaller. it's an inverse or a cat-call: can't remember which. she's a
bastard?

religion seemed remote, but the idea of spirituality resonated. i remain lost, in a

stasis. nothing really means iron-clad, until threatened. right?

composition is of course a way of undressing meaning; as it was written. let's
just take

the ether and promise none of this happened. agreed?

The Kitchen Sink

 

autodidact art
  -or-
late appetizer

 

 

it was an unlikely move
a bloody mistake
knifed to bleed brazen burglar

 

remember that escher maze i've been navigating? the one where space and time are in

constant flux? yeah, i'm still stuck and it is a literal mind-fuck. i really need to

break-out. very much so, indeed.

 

despite its non-linear qualities, i do need to occasionally sleep in this place. usually

it's a respite, mostly a void; however, every so often i get a dream of flight, of

freedom. obviously symbolic, my woken mind still clings to the after-glow.

 

a cat pounced in an alley
it was an odd breed
forked tongue snuck out of its mouth

 

                                ^

 

my choices seem to have become two-fold, (a) keep going on this itinerant journey, or (b)

succumb to the numbness i feel in face of this metaphorical emptiness. not great options,

really. i guess i'll have to let the story, like a stolen license plate, move around

until it's finally found.

errand dangling

obfuscated reality
  -or-
conflict de rigueur

got a shine on, leading to semiotic run-ons; it's a science of neurons. strange syringe,

i cop to being a proverbial pariah; laugh-off, i stagger the hangover in between

imaginary mayweather-pacquiao bouts and it's quite anti-climatic. cue laugh-track.

au voire mister, take the game off, quitting like the franchise ponderosa. quixotic, the

danger lies in my veins, so chaotic. in a zone, tragic, left feet seem erotic, it's a

mix, call my sister, she's no snow mae and my tryst went nowhere. queue means stand back.

rivulets insist a consideration that equips a fist on a face. lights-out, the chances

this semantic strategy succeeds is of constant constraint. green letters rain down and i

wonder about this persistent quack, like a duck, but really a camouflaged leopard.

explains my lack of reaction to the loud yelling a opposite a standard backyard; laugh, stand in line, swerve.

stationary transit

 

leaving aushwitz
  -or-
give a back a break

 

 

there was a flash (not jeff) gordon; it was something in the pan. i am holding relatives

for ransom. i'm not an inherently bad person, maybe misunderstood. a crowd had formed

and i needed an exit strategy. as flying was not a viable option, i opted for the

conventional oven; nonsense you say, but i never got caught both times i tried that. it

was a combination of luck and roth. it was a class that never seemed possible. a candle

in the sun? that shit don't even out. cancel that paycheck.

strangers on the plane

 

easter in detroit
 -or-
call the lawyer

 

my judgement is when i/f locate the false offender, it will be congenial. my assumptions

may be presumptuous (redundant), but i'm swimming in pools of liqueur, off a high-dive of

sobriety. this place is as hard to deal with as lands w/ ports; wait, maybe i should lay

off the cptn morgan's before constructing analogies. maybe.

 

once a pirate, always a pirate is a a platitude that mathematically had to have been

uttered at least once in real-life history. the modern pirate probably targets trucks. w/

the economy so downtrodden, however, i wonder about its profitability. it seems like a

zero-sum game.

a side-note: recently watched a re-run of the x-files, it involved a convoluted

conspiracy, life in the fast-lane, a land of castration; i think it involved a cow, maybe

it was fringe; re-veal.

 

i (patiently) wait for the tabulations, eschew schematics, escrow my ego. in a calculated

way, i made my inlay down hanley, paving a sophisticated 3-brake: so much rhyme i made

this a fade-away. now the case is in the jury and the dungeon is in transition. a

calamity awaiting decision.

 

my sentence runs as long as these syllables. it may contain alien constructs; it may be

inaccessible. loose lips sink ships, but my job is to navigate this haze. make a home.

not drown in the days. upon reading the verdict, i came to an impatient cross-roads (an

x-y-z critical dynamic): it read reasonable doubt; i thought maybe.