551 mph

mountainous clouds

create

their own landscape

 

icebergs

aloft and afloat

to cushion

 

rather than destroy

our

titantic

 

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trees of glass

trees of glass

trees of glass

coated in ice

like the frost-laquered winter pieces in your grandparents’

sitting room

(possibly

created

with a spray can)

and then the sun

breaks

episodic        periodic

sunbreaks

reflects

off ice-

encrusted

branches

strikes ice-

laced

limbs

these

gaps        splashes        moments

of

lumination

produce beams of biblical proportions

light to draw you up

into shangri-las untold

light to create a rudimentary replica

here

on terra firma

a mere moment’s glimpse of

what could be

if we

believed?

behaved?

If

only

the

light        beams        rays

reflecting crystal purity

trees of glass

and all is right and good and

magical and an

inescapable optimism

pervades

if we believe, surely, it

will never fade

don’t fight it

don’t fight it

don’t

summersick

sunny, sunny sickday

swelter in sweat

sweet sounds

of jazz

trio

time out for

tacos and tecate

on a

kensington

patio

the body bellyaches

but soul and

tastebuds

are so

aglow

dull pain, thick and

swampy

mucal

fluids an askew

ratio

headthrob headsweat

sunburn sunstroke

morebeer morejazz i do not

want

to go

inside and lie

down on a couch

on such

a sunny day

oh no.

ruminations (or, further tales from fuck station zero)

ruminations
ruminations

we’re puttin’ the rue

back

in ruminations!

ruminations
ruminations

we’ve been puttin’ the

rue

in ruminations

since 1989!

think back!

dwell

on:

loves moments things opportunities dreams

   missed broken said unsaid lost

regret and rue:

stalled at the crossroads of.

but don’t fret that regret! for

the next stop, the next stall, the next stalled

incriminations
incriminations, is

only

one block over.

the church of dr. s

satisfaction of survival

status quo

so we sow.

sufferin succotash!

we sup on such?

sweet sally struthers stutters

and we shall

survive

southern sylvesters

while we

satisfy and satiate

simple saturation of

sameness.

swim in the salty sea

of mediocracy

aloft and afloat to see

such swagger and strut

for naught

but:

what?

when,

simplicity is the steel strut

to support our

soul’s search, our

soulsearch.

sublimated only by

the sorely subpar

insufficient, surely

(so far)

and be not swayed by

shirley simone sinclair

o’schmarr.

swipe sideways!

slide swipeways!

slip

aways away!

sidle, slip, and sway

tis a

shivery slippery slope.

let’s syncopate

synchronize?

salaciously salivate,

says i

slatternly and wise

suggesting several “oh my’s!”

suggestive sighs

sign no lies

size besides?

slip back shrink down

simmer down and downsize

sup with no consumerists’ sly lies!

simplify.

testify and simplify!

simplify to survive to

satisfy to start to

soul purify.

sensate innate

let senses inflate

simple senses, no fences.

suffer no possessions

sever your obsessions

sack! all the sessions

with:

your psychoanalyst and

your psychosexual

psychotic confessions.

switch your search

to the dr. seuss church!

choose the success of soul!

stone-cold soul satisfaction

seed and sow, reap and know

let your sweet soul glow

suggest an ingest of

soulglow to go

and a shine

you will surely know.

sensual, sexual

consensual, intentional

with spirit and soul aglow

body is soon in tow

simplify and testify today—save yourself and switch your search to the simply sensational

dr.

seuss

church.

yes, switch your search

to the dr. seuss church

the dr. seuss church.

if you swear, you’ll catch no fish

six hours on a boat

no one swore

not once

‘if you swear, you’ll catch no fish’

and i wonder

an expression? superstition?

or just the album title of the 1986 snfu release?

and

is the ability to only converse of canadian punk hardcore punk skate punk album titles limiting to my overall persona? creating an inability to find that common thread with my fellow humans? is lacking an insight to taylor swift lyrics holding me back? should i know more about the leafs? pokemon go?

nay.

i think not. not quite.

we need not have common interests to have

common

ground

this restaurant, this planet

we all eat and breathe, defecate & hurt, feelbleedlove

we all assume   we are   better   than someone else

and

just because i want to

stab

that guy

in the american flag shorts

through the eye

with

my pen

(because, really, wouldn’t it be so satisfying to plunge a papermate socket-deep into the viscous matter?

(plus, the sweet symbolism of the pen being mightier than the sword in this david vs. goliath mixed metaphor of little o’ canuck me vs. big beefy boy and all that his superpower supershorts imply?))

as he offends me with his terrible

politicshobbiesinterests

and generally shitty world-view

(that i imagine he likely has)

trump-supporting sob

(that i imagine he likely is)

doesn’t mean   that

i don’t want to sleep with his girlfriend

see?

commonalities!