( dont ask why but fyi- my brainmind has gone half biblical & full epic
a glacier mint clarity glimpse outside the fug of coastal fog & its in this state of ministry ? of industry ? that i wonder . . . ) what is my suffering to the suffering of ages ? i am piltdown man in the mummy exhibit ~ the rendition extraordinary detention borderly & starvation incontinently the damnation historically sickness unnecessary & poverty geographically the extinction constructually genocide religiously & monks inflammatory all make me piltdown man in the mummy exhibit ~ what is my suffering to the suffering of the ages ? well- its M I N E & thinking different stinks of a stasis agenda
the day all the days i dont know what to do with them theyre like tambourines in the snow i got my colour tv and my dylan lps i grind up fresh coffee beans breathing new stainless electric vapour up at the same ceiling whirls where my grandfather blew his yellow pipe smoke the days well theyre like one of those portraits in a gallery or on a wood paneled wall in a horror films creaking mansion where the painted eyes seem to follow you which ever chair arm you perch on dubious and sipping at a drink the days well theyre like i been flagged up and all the teachers and all the policeman know and now theyre ready to bear down and bite at my ear angry with agendas angry with the writing and the unmowed lawn