Quatrain coroner

A being flies high
when an attached
silver chord
yanks him down.

 

hands of stone
tumbling from
prehistoric volcanic
activity.

 

Bullshit. The cord is bullshit.
Never seen one, felt one, tasted one,
never ever...only heard stories...
no cord here I aint no Kite

 

will you come with us...
will you stay?
will you die, will you die,
we wonder from time to time

 

little shit head
oblivious, recycle
this fuck. Send him down
the line...

 

my lover stroked my shaft, and offered me three tokes of the brain
which uprooted my soul soaring okay I remember now... no more
humanity, aha... la lumis...
mokshash oxmuntis

 

fucking freezing,
stiff,
accepting death
and bobbing

 

hello again
shiny crysannthemum
or however you spell it,
wow!

 

Reading poems
grand scale graphics
Mind expansions welcomed
Please, not the screen

 

god
won't you dance with me
do the shuffle
'til I wanna sleep

 

Since when do we see
with our eyes
and taste
with our tongues

 

​

The coin emerges
from the void
spinning
head over tail

Find your center
Find your center​

 

Sidewalk performer beneath
the unstopping brick's plummet
to chance a mime's beautifully
blood curdling scream- silence

 

intense laughter
erupts and melts
the snow for a
split second, lost.

 

- Plexus
Mist on the
Solar Horizon
of Your Love.

 

Lightning blitz
Neurones in fits
Cap on the Elf
For your very good health!

 

Of Audible Audacity
Flexible Bones Beat
The Natural Drum
In Swirling Tunnels of Flesh

 

we were wondering
who showed up and howled
right around
two

 

Tanzan wrote sixty postal cards on the last day of his life, and asked an attendent to mail them.
Then he passed away.
The cards read:
I am departing from this world. This is my last announcement. Tanzan July 27, 1892

 

With a retarded gleam in her eye
The fuzz kitten on the fuzz moss
Imparted the way, the truth,
The essence of the half-step