“To write everything is to put a sword in the hands of a child”

red turns to green, Do not make a difference.

both the same and the different

are cut down all the same by war machines.

Endless mistakes of snow

words falling, failing

My imagination turned black

False stars, ghost stars, the sky envelops us in stone

the weather is our pagan religion, lost within caverns,

faith in the eye of the whirlwind

vacuum salesman

they were hired and fired

on a creative discipline of compulsion

They will come to your door and ask to speak with your children

And your children will recognize them as the friendly guy on TV

They wrote a book “The Big Book of Knowledge (for kids)”

Everything you want to know about

“What if the moon suddenly disappeared?”

There would be space completely unlike the space in a bowl.

The space between subnuclear particles follows the confines of certain ceramics

That can be bent by gravity

Pressure the mind to condense, it will begin emitting gravitational waves

How does gravity grip us across the chasms of space, not just any space, but the space we have defined, the space most inductive to our understanding?

If the mind has control over the pressure acting on itself, could one enact as an act of will? The ability to grip objects across space.

And how would we use this power harmlessly?

By making the actors so poor, that for survival they operate on others minds

to buy vacuums.

—

the brick wall reality makes a house of cards

The hermit creates a fire of austerity.

The warrior depends on his body and the touch of earth beneath his feet.

The riders of the Great Vehicle

Generate a flow of their energies to be harnessed at a loss or gain.

The lovers shun the Prince of Air

The fool is our goddess with child, who’s giving, yielding breasts are the beginning of the wheel of fate.

A human is an even number

And this ghoulish lump that writes 

to self-curb

obscene flaps of skin,

makes light pen strokes that barely touch the page,

gestures of wings disappearing into the white sky,

A sneeze and a tissue to mop this face, afterwards,

the dream continues