D255 September 2008 at 8:20pmPosts: 103 (0 today)Status: offline
I was filtered out of an uncomfortable and sensually vivid sleep up into this day with a film dream beam wave version of a King Kong Stylus in a radio gauze machine:
Agent Derby was questioning nurse catch it like they were the avengers and dr. cane with nova on dictaphone in ice.
Something wasn't kosher because of the unpleasent reminder from
Dr. Dream Interpreter
Planet of the Apes Dr. Cornrlius and General stylus with the new proto types were pushing buttons shutteling imagery as Zeera went looking for roddy thinking out loud that she didn't want to give them "the yam".
The white rabbit was watching the marketing strategists on a multi platform tellyacommunications specialists selling screen mass everythingallthe time merry go round.
Ninja sigh op swords and tap dancers belly to belly in a ballerina bobbleheaded springloader semester tester with large yards full of heavy machinery and tractors, earthmovers,wreckingbulls and cranes dozers trackhoes loaders in itty bitty training sprains.
In the safes were the bullet taoting
lyric juggeling mains with
lottery wheels fire forged brains
I forgot to give thanks for the breadman,and then
walter brennan and bob seger drove bye singing rock and roll will never forget walking on the moon with a sweet sample dj no crash i hear it's your birthday favorite vampire record in the window with olive lovers on fry bread on mesa lean spagehtti strap western tees and morgue-a-lite bio-link cartoghraphers and archeologists laying it on thick with out of sync brakemen bills listening to swamp blues thumb pickers eating the last of the pastry chefs.
Then this weirdness appeared at the wall of death hiding in the alley a mile and a half to the north.
All along the coastal shore we watch and wait on the winter lore
creation levels metered lights
mimic tags alive on cell-u-strikes
it was only nickle sense
quartered plastic shells in pickle lent
still the twisting lemons in the kelp
the contact meters
the deep fan belt
is this spilling
broken vessal drem
is this filling
are you what you eat
stitched believe seams lay your bands on tree over tree
building up the lodge pole pyer signs
seeing what was once after the stagnent tires
mussel bone felt in the blistering wells
compartmental station sights
you no us, smell
It's only common tense
there is no back collision shear
That's not the way it has to be
I am willing lay your hands on me
I am the great destroyer this is something you will understand
yams in the washing of the ton can you make this go away?
This little truffle snuffer likes to read
clan of the cave bear the archetypes
all mythic in proportion the sex never ends
she likes it when her brothers kill
positively slaughter the enemies skill
he knows how to set the traps that even God will weave into webs while waiting to name the slayers
as the new students recognize the chi and mix of the speeders on conveyorbelts of the sidewalks. = :-]