Messages

thoughts are with you and yours
best regards, tdh

god spoke to me today

through the spokes....


.....of the bicycle wheel








i was taken aback

it was left there
on the platform
the last few grains of hope
that somehow managed to survive
the long descent into the reality of man-made you-topia

in the deathly bowels
of an indifferent cement encrusted underworld

the dim light
the stale breath of the cavernous catacombs

the blank stares
into digital
into detachment
into the mainlined tether to

nothing

to ideas of relationships
that are as real as the tooth fairy
that are not of the hand to hand comradery

of yesteryear

how did it all come to this
why didn't anyone speak up
how did we traverse so far into these depths
without leaving a crumb trail back

and no one brought a fucking flashlight

i suppose this is all to atone
for some long buried grievance
or forgotten missed step

the harshness
is breathtaking and perplexing
from what bowels does it emerge

the stench of all stenches
a dank, damp feeling
i need a shower

i dig the beat

the dreamworld is a very scary place to be trapped inside
which is why i always make sure that i bring along a flashlight
a blow torch
and a crowbar

to ward off
the many
festations

it was a hurtling foray into the glass ceiling where there was this fat man who was trying to keep the brothers and the sisters down because they were funny looking, smelled of clorox and peppermint and had "that crazy look in their eyes" which was probably mostly due to the fact that someone had just poored fucking clorox in their goddamn motherfucking eyes you goddamn son of a bitch

223  you wreck yourself before you check yourself

i believe

a new era dawns
at the turn of the tide
in a cascade of light

great joy floods the land
it becomes awash with great joy
from valley to ivory tower

i'm overcome with zest
bearing witness to the scope and majesty
oh, but that comet hurtling this way could fuck things up

its all gone

would you settle for some brown sauce

i got my suit dry cleaned for nothing

today is here
the promise of yesterday
fell through
must have been some fine print
in the escape claws

counter clockwise

pope pit of this pear