Do you remember when we saw the Milky Way
Looking up at the night from your father’s cornfield

We were too far north for tick checks

Wading under the bridge
Minnows eating dead skin off our toes
While hornets buzzed at the banks

Shooting guns at old VCRs and broken microwaves

Laying on our backs on the grass
We watched his Fourth of July fireworks
The embers landing in our hair

And when the smoke cleared
The Milky Way, again

i've shut down
like a factory building typewriters or VCRs
you left a rotten tingling in my mouth
pepper-flavored rubbing alcohol
slap me like you check yourself out in the mirror
maybe that will set my brain back into motion
sparks and blue soda
i gave you too many chances to ruin my life
bald spots on my head
lungs black because you made me start smoking again
turn around
the back of your head is the only part that doesn't make me cry anymore
and yet it still does
build me up like legos and take me apart piece by piece
we had brooklyn and bagels and trains and hangovers and sheets
religious conversion was avoided
i just realized how unhappy i was with you
all of you
all of what you gave me
which was nothing
taker.
taker.

I am from worn out measuring cups where the numbers no longer show,
From years of guessed quantities and over sugared cakes.
I am from cracked blue paint,
And the mantra “we’ll get a new coat next year.”
I am from the cow peas, crop circling, and honeysuckle vines ornamented with butterflies.
I am from Grandpa’s tobacco yellowed hands, Grandma Doll’s old wives tales,
From “eat your bread crusts and your hair will curl,”
And from “your face just might stick like that.”
I am from morning walks and the sylvan veil of moss,
From meandering trails and the drip of rain on leaves.
I am from Otter Pops, and bright blue tongues.
I am from cassette tapes, now left in the back of the closet to grow antique.
And VCRs,
From Monsters Inc. and Totoro.
And I am from the worn bindings of The Phantom Tollbooth and The Velveteen Rabbit.
I am from the meadow,
From searching for fairies, and sometimes even finding them.
And from the whispered promise “I’ll dream of you and you’ll dream of me…”
I am from the babbling gurgling creek, from the itch of nettles and the deep earthy scent of loam.
I am from the cat in Alice in Wonderland,
From Jacob and Leah’s wronged daughter.
I am from the Xanadu, the Akela, and the Dynamite,
From the crack of sails and the swing of the boom.
I am from placid seas and the rushing tumult of rain,
From heavy grey skies and flaming sunsets painted in watercolor across the Olympics.
I am from the pink syringe and the old blind dog’s last breath,
And I am from the hole where we laid her.
I am from the evergreen planted in the frozen ground to the sounds of my first cry,
That tree whose limbs witnessed my first breath, whose lofty trunk now stands as a testament, a marker, of where I am from.

glasses with flowers curled on the sides
a hot LA summer, VCRs stacked high
brings me, according to you
to the sweltering shelter of memories lost

tuck a woman on her side and give away her liberty
she bit you, she's long bitten me
she sobs as you drive, have you ever heard a more terrible sound?
a mother lost, broken over the knee by her mind

call me

see how angry I am
left to roll, sticking talcum in between bumps of fat
while age makes me reckless and strong

try and tell me how I am
if you're gone.

Dont buy that video, mum!
I know its better than some
But the movies you get just escape set,
And look what our house has become

Theres Vampires hung up in the  attic,  And Aliens under my bed
At the top of the stairs theres  
A Family of Bears
And a bloke with a bolt through his head

A Mermaid moved in the bathroom
A choir of Nuns in the hall
And the littlest rooms now
A Temple of Doom
With Snakes sliding in through the wall

OH! im fed up with fighting for fruit-juice
With a fridge full of Slimy Green Frogs,
And i wont share my bed
With a Tribe of Undead
Nor clean up after loveable Dogs

Perhaps we get a new telly
Theres some really secure ones about,
And tough VCRs with Titanium Bars
So the Creatures inside cant get out

So dont buy that video mum,
Already my minds going numb
Save your money
For Chips or Chocloate Whips
Then see what our house will become


                                     CHRISTIAN_WARD

I’m older than the internet
Older than cell phones
Air bags,
I got a few years on Mrs. Pac Man, too
I’m older than My Little Pony
And He Man; he’s just a youth
Easy Bake Oven, younger than me
So are VCRs and DVD
No ATMs present
Till I was a teen
And microwaves
Didn’t exist either
I’m thinking about
All the things we went without
But why did it seem so much easier?

Regicide.
{this is less than 250 lines, counting spaces,
for patience testing reports made mandatory
in some therapy systems preparing personal dethronings}

Insider uses made first,
to explain the process, confusing users,
decompressing trust,
to this end,
limiting mutual insured construction
as is the natural state among neighbors, historically

natal sense, common natural instincts in us, as users

just beginning to centralize intelligence, secretly
serving kings and things kings are made to represent.

As the annual remembering days honor those olden
tales from our wanderings, days horror infused, retold

mortified if I lied, lying lifelessly, terribly confused reborn.

Did you ever learn the seven year itch,
called not uncommon?
Like a cold, a virus,
a mind hat, ideal
helmet of salvation, self certainty, I am

activating initial me mind hope substance

It may have been a modern invention, akin
to social diseases like carpal tunnel
and latch key kid syndromes
in adult children of alcoholics.

Aim at nothing,
you will hit it, only believe, and squeeze…

--- once, per instance, now … we think we
… are not --- instant recoknowing we think

nothing is ever naturally decoded, we thunk…

this is a breadcrumb trail, as was upgraded,
with little white pebbles, perhaps pearls,
as Hansel had imagined them, previous
to the last leading into those woods,
where there is to this day, sweets
alluring, baiting innocents, just

walk along, dropping bread crumbs,
but, no, not this time, ye pitiful peasants,
no, this time, Hansel came with pebbles, white

ones he planned to use as he had those breadcrumbs
back link hypertalk users are familiar with, from HTTP

here to take point user code
for radio watch, listening see
find the answer using only haps and this once as if
yadayadyad da did da dittydawdit dah didaw
· · – · – · –
- historical machine code quantum leaps… com plete
- hysterical misdirection from **** and Jane,

FTA, why the curricula juxtaposed intro lit
ready readers sorted into fair to tell tales, vid licet
Hans
and Gretel telling Jack and Jill,
after Jack fell, something's fishy, have you heard?

Magic fishes granting wishes, yes, I have heard,
I know the guy, I met him, yes, he let it go.

Per, you know,
is seldom heard, per
haps to be most often idle, discouraging never,

redeem a given chance to let such a catch go free…
never forget Androcles, let such thorns in the flesh

remind us how far we are from pen and ink thinking
recounting time redeemed using idle words as facts,
reapplied to terms of agreement, among us, as amens

we all put our voices behind, a hearty amen and amen again.

All in ever, once got directly prayed for, by Jesus H. Christ,
the author and final shiner on the faith of our fathers, trust

in the savvy Salmon P. Chase, if the money makers trust in God,
we all had better believe those high financiers are truly so trusting

Bulls and Bears, and fractional banking practical voodoo,
making money from nothing and **** for free…

Boomer retro psychedelic glossalialacsadaisical wishery woo

mushrooms and poke salad, with ***** caught on bacon rind…

Clearwater credence revived with ***** and the Po'boys
out on the streets, with the National Guard, yeah

we lived this long… something's happening here, again
what it is ain't exactly clear, there's a child with a gun…

bang bang, you shot me down

as if hate creates its own down fall, and we follow

fundamental bottom mind, let be in us, informing us

Jesus said whoever hears the knock, and opens, as
if Pelagius was an honest man, and Augustine the liar…

----------------------- well… endure to the end,
judgment day, is not judgement eternity,
get through today
one per waking opportunity,
the sufficiency of ra' needing
tov to know so we do not perish, one day sufficientcy, know
is plenty for all the time you have left to figure out your duty.

Just wait, and breathe
find words used pointedly wrong

offending truths missed while accounting,
and redeeming missions using idle promises
perhaps missed mercies free to take, and
reuse, if officially wide of the mark, assigned you.

Perhaps, you knew,
events usually occur per wishes, as it were,

your fingerprints, eventually prove you became you…
as set during pre life womb prep,
we, were taught to wish,
we all were, it's true,
we were born
into talkies and television and radio,
we were destined
to inherit Mohave Radio and Electric.
Just when VCRs and Macintoshes were next.
With a borrowed NorTel 300 baud modem...
Ancient History of the Internet,
where we created the Class for Training
Internet Support Position Career Pathfinders,
The Kingman, Arizona hub of the SilverFox BBS
------------------------- circa 1986
The radio and record store, was first of its kind
back in those boom days when all the bombers
were being wrecked for scrap out east of town.
I knew the man.
A WW2 pilot friend of my Dad,
I rode on Dad's lap,
while Beale took us up higher than the mountains,
Masterson, fine old rooted name, I think, now.
He laughed at me laughing
while he flew a spiral leaning right
for me to look out and see what buzzards see.
Beale was his name, he was a local, war survivor...
- yeah, regicide, Masterson, as a name... of that man.

The man who owned the radio store, he was named

Beale Masterson,
in a town that uses Beale Street,
as its main street, in a town that used
to be a springs, shown in petroglyphs
next water one day walking, this away go
Beale Springs, some day, those got so named,
sweet clear water with cress and tadpole pools,
some forgotten Hualapais left old trails to, back when
the Abo Highway ran from La Jolla to Watson Brake, La.

Yeah, Poverty Point had Kingman Turquise beads, in a horde.


--- 10 by 10, and a LAPL card.

If I were jailed for heresy today,
I could handle Christian prison.

But I am certifiable, using
Wildersmith to test my testimony.

Mad as the Mindhatters of old, those who forced all classed to recognize
the worthiness of men in bowlers.

Can a cell become a home?

In time, in time, lime shining,
essentially professional pearling

surface on surface polishing feeling.

After a while, an answer appears
just so, I used my self me, I see

at home in species specific environs

at rest, attending pretentiousness,
Dysphemistic Euphemisms

Gideon's burning his father's plow,
now, the reminding Bible version,
essential New Testament and Psalms

as the new recruits shuffle single file

E-1 rank, one single file, shuffle past
the volunteer evangelists with gifts,

the ubiquitous testimony ending
in the middle, with Revelation's
final threat,
Nothing May Be Added

For I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book: And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and [from] the things which are written in this book.

He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ [be] with you all. Amen.

Free from the things written in that book, did you notice… imagine that/

True tests, transfigurations

testimonial persuasioning
tested y monumentallized as if
testing convinces sweetening whys

evincing effectual fervency in prayer,
muttering repetitions of angelic annunciation
muttered in penitence, each marked amenably

in olden tolden hagiographies
on Earth as it is in Heaven

once, a hermit sat where Rapunzel lived, high
on a hill, in a cell with a single window, high,

overlooking
evident solidified
fundus mundus granite waves,
rolling hills, topped with rolled boulders, rounded
through miles
of riverwise windings visible using magic evidence+

common sense google eyes
in our common sky, we all look down from…

per- (1) "forward,"
hence "through, in front of, before,
first, chief, toward, near, around, against."

haps, as haps may, fortunately
suffer us to play may sayer as life between rivers
also suffers seasons just so, as life
around us just happens
as we pass through it,
breathe-ing in and out with a happy sense
there's one more river,
to California, so, just one more river to cross

our preferential reference, ferry man come to carry us across…

"The semantic shift f
rom 'load' or 'the carrying'
to 'chance, luck' is not obvious ...."
The sense might be "that which is brought."

Into our place
of final testament, mental formation making,
piling skeletal shells destined
to become marble pillars, testifying…

natural born journey man journeyed here with Kilroy.