the well is deep

 

recombinant TNA
 -or-
minds blown*

 

 

 

the clues were close cause i could sniff em. i sent an emissary on an exploratory

expedition and held my cam so i wouldn't miss it. sliced my putting hand, but that was of

little concern since distance was of abject importance; it was part of the mission.

 

briefing my other self, i recognized the duality, a real jackson v burr reality. a black

-hole sun stunted my recovery; the dimensions had collapsed when a star died. it's a

sound garden i told the entity, a place to remember the impact. cylical as cyanide; as

death begats a new nativity.

 

i follow the
  trail w/
 trepidation

 

the prison has
        the boogeyman
  c. jung

 

found a
  courtroom &
        the jury was
 predictably
hung

 

sleightly ominous
        stealth serious
 axis the
  acess:

 

G, A, T, C
       chromosonal
 counterbalance

 

strictly clinical
  the cortex
 is forced to be
        strategical

 

*suspect still @ large

the grifter

 

beltway
 -1r-
companion

 

 

 

saw an opening, drove to the lane, yet i forgot a 'p' and got stuck on the tarmac.

there is a fondness for the raw didactic; 

an affection for

being blunt. the mats 

are rolled so tight i can't get that contact, the one that

transfers, ferngully, finally, what was i typing; oh, that's right i'm tipping 10%.

 

can't control carlos, carlson, causation, nor any of those c-b-w's, it's like an

alphabetic soup for the soul. caught a foul ball and everyone stared: they had eyes of a

burnt cuban cigar. yet the cinder was lit (so was I, but hush, you lush) and i had to

obey: 'throw it back!' and so i did.

 

there was a chorus of cheers.

star gazing

burnt retinas
 -or-
string theory

maybe the burden is all mine; maybe the weight is on my shoulders. 

i have been diagnosed not only by professionals but also by friends: i am 

narcissistic, so it fits egotistically. however, it is so unintentional that 

i believe i reinforce it; everything

is compacted.
 

extending this idea: see the pattern. it's 

a fractal idealized in a form of simple

anecdotes, or concussive cohesions. slam 

the partic(u)l(ar)s together and see what

addtracts; call it digital chaos. Dropping 

is only for those in the stratosphere, the

ones who climbed to babylon.