The organic dripping plasma bulk bin, stuck in old Chicago Town behind the fire escapes the hissing of steam vents, random discharges and screaming noise, much torture was hidden among the trash. The bins were dripping red hot glue of a green brown hue and shapes formed at random never quite making completion. A white ray high in the sky hovered above the large oblong containers. This was going to emerge into a new initiation of beings unholy and raw. Mason Cult dressed as a vagabond turned to the rancid, putrid, steamed alley. He had been warned by The Great White Brotherhood that discarnate evil forces had landed in the twilight time. Mason approached protected as he walked, by his oval violet aura with the gold God head above. Mason is going to save the world we wait in anxiety as blue flash tries to speed from beneath rocks in Scotland, we are fast, we are nimble and we shall see.

Mason was now heavily involved down a hot steam vented street in Old Chicago in the twilight time, against formidable mountains of genetic mutant slime. Stuff that was not quiet making completion to its evil form, oozing from a bulk trash bin the blue lights from the Scottish retreat had arrived and surrounded Masons aura, as the mission had gone overload to stop the spread of mutations. No national emergency had yet been called, Boc Hondo was on holiday upon Saturn taking lessons from Venusian Jesus, so Mason’s only hope were the outcasts. who were presently in England on rejuvenation in Turkers Wood a beam of light was hurriedly administered and the Kundalini call was given and they sure as stars came.

You always know when an important event is real or so I’m told when no fanfare is announced, good or bad especially when the subject is outer world evolution and that is exactly where Mason Cult stood, at this moment in time nearly alone, save for the blue lights from Scotland in the steam trap of old Chicago waiting for an army of Boc’s outcasts in England. In the light shaft to Masons side there was millions of tons of devolved slime pushing its way beneath Chicago grids and Mason by now was struggling to stay alert.

Some of the blue light was slowly being absorbed by thickening slime . Then hail flesh and flash eighteen Outcasts fell streaming down from a twilight sky ever respondent to Masons call above the outcasts, a ship full of wonderful detergent turbo anionic supplicants poised to flow into multiple grates of steamy goo, anti genetic microbe miracles, a bubble bonanza flowed hard at bad goo evolution, beneath old rotten underbelly of Chicago town and without the knowledge of those walking down the sweaty streets oblivious Mason Cult and an army of Outcasts let the old world breath for another day.

By Mason Cult Poet

Mason Cult Poet was born in Westmorland in the Lake District in a farming engineering community. On one side of the family many portions of nobility mainly the Stuarts. Mason Cult did as the herd does and went through the education process. attended drama school and ran small businesses. The stigma of mental health issues blighted him as it does with all creative people, was diagnosed in 2011 with a form of Asperger’s Syndrome which can impair executive function however it has given him a higher sense to see what others do not and from this ability he concludes the world is controlled by esoteric forces and that other interventions operate steering the world we know ro a new beginning.. What we witness we are forced to challenge and the work of Mason Cult assists this

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The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive