Sometimes, when the moon swings a smile, I look back on myself and disagree

"You can dress me up in distortion and push me with feedback. The wall will BE standing anyways."

When the moon is gone and all I have is a star, a map and its key, I see light between my fingers.
(I’ll be Anonymous Known, wearing all the letters. A mirror like a shift between haste and hijacking. Ready or not. I am a pirate angel. You have no proof that I am. You have no proof that I am not.)

The rare occasion is when the X falls on your lap, without your call, without a sign, but maybe just a look or a thought. And no matter what your intention was, it all fits to a T. Does it mean timeless?

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only heaven knows what heaven is

i found it in the forgotten

lost and found, slow simmer

there’s a book for the word

dramatics sugar coat the contents

bringing back the dynamics

of the blind beef cake of honor



character is not a way and death, not a melting pot.

Esperanto is the word of a nation of pain that creates a way to hope.



a speaker uses dangle words

tangles like rings on the ears

to burn and pressure the heart

into peace

the word rings

to turn like

flowers to the sun

open and close

towards new sound

words fuel a new speaker

tangle of the dangle in motion

out the mouth like a sewing machine!



I’m the speakers parody



battery of creating terms to describe ordinary language

lost

a proselyte germinating in the mouth of a giant

the pass is the life memory of the battery

outgrowing the disguise
of an uncomfortable pattern




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The above was written years ago.