"...the Tambourine Man may be the pusher, the drug, or the experience itself. But the ambience of the work is unmistakably that of early dawn, the hour of the wolf, when all hangs in an eerie balance, as at the end of a long and difficult LSD trip." --Acid Dreams


blood on twitterfall
the revolution
will only be televised
and those lexan shields
phalanx advancing
i will not drop the chador
and flee
the air burning my lungs now
hajj in twister country
the mural of John Brown
enraged
nice breeze till i reach the shade
taqiya
gargle with sterno groats
the crocs-shod minions flock
to this bell
on the desiccated plain
i used to be a plastic bottle

the shortest night
headlights on in the daytime
Gothic bellydance
the dreads of summer
i ignore my power steering's whine
blin, the sound of cicadas
or as we call them, "locusts"
the dispute over who leprosy
gets to be named after
with them the silver hounds
slicing the high cerulean
glint from a darting jet
only in retrospect meaningful
if glints can return
to the opening hand
the newly dead the forgotten dead
black and white movies silent movies
the agonizing transition
from one to the other
flailing limbs frozen
in utter silence
it's comedy
now
a fat free food
swirlmallows for anyone
psychotomimetic ideology
and what does bring these forth
skeleton army clacking
where do the dittoheads come from
maimed ego and fury of dreams denied
mass produced like Fox News lies
the one a tin for the other
summer & cicadas
in this steam i am vengeful
and flag burning only serves
in lieu of something squirminger
pilgrimage i return from
having learned the drill
drug of deliquescent clocks
sow broken grasshoppers

read the Book of the Dead backwards

a wad of feces in a paper towel
i detect · the El · Supremo
vol de nuit
in the early days you
will be continually reverting
to the old forms of thinking
the crocs-shod minions
Yekaterinburg

Yekaterinburg
not on my wish lists
Pripyat
Arabian Mocha Sanani

Benoni
fossils of the great cephalopods


Bullet fee. (via #iranelection)


"The world is run by one million evil men, ten million stupid men, and a hundred million cowards." --Gregory David Roberts, Shantaram (2003)


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