Piston Pete the domination class, thirty five porn children later and there is disregard for you he does not care for you me or the world. As another screaming innocent emerges from the nights of wanton desire, in the dark corners of the club on the travelling trail of populations. Bulging borders where it is too dry to survive or too damp to breath in the warren world of the social prolific disorder. Where the name on the street is mate or still Ginner, waiting for his chance to drown administrators, number crunching boxes of cornflakes and rice in tins to go, for piston Pete always till now, thought that some tolerant benevolent mother genie would carry the can for the excesses, embedded intravenous porn drip of abhorrence, in a dark world of the avatar people where nothing exists. Only warped minds and the drugs that feed them as the sound bangs from big speakers in your overburdened ears.
Tag: Political
I Cannot See
The moon I cannot see through troublesome clouds it will never pull me up unless I see it in full of other universes, where families live hidden from my sight, or comprehend when mother moon quarters herself and hides the mysteries by obstinate illumination. Another world hidden from our minds dim below where only half a cup of truth exists .
In a Box I Turn
Dark and lonely in a box I turn for comfort and find my box has some windows but the view is no better than that of other boxes. In my yard some have stones upon them so there is no escape, sometimes there are moles scratching around my box. My innate state in the dead of night, guarded by many trees. The box door reads welcome but there are no visitors that one would be at ease with, how can that be, for above those around say I am dead with no forwarding address.
Leaders…
You shouldn’t be so powerful as the wind strips you bare, all your suits, your medals your mind, your unkind, your destroying a world your mother bonded you to. Your the leader your stripped so bare, your exposed to the snares of angry populace. Your treachery and nepotistic legions, you look like old Mulder and your smoking man has gone, but your conspiracies no larger than a room, now your destroying the world, now facing the sun what on earth is god going to do with you
Tree Brothers
So far my tree brothers and sisters have not defended ourselves in the forest, lungs of the world that we are. Pushing and sensing we grow for a century or more in that time we develop senses a type of sight, we have energy within and even inform you in our rings as to the passing of years, dose that not make you think, put your ear to us and feel the pull of our energy. Yes we look awkward and funny to look at in our random poses, you can even hide or shelter under our summer canopies and we cast our cushion of medallion leaves upon earth ground and do not forget our spinning seeds given to earth man for eternity…as you wander through the forest, we whisper and we know.