until the
photovoltaic Symphony of Sapphires Whirls
in her Twelve Octave Super Novae Ovaries in the Valley of
Mandelbrot Mountain
as the perpetual motion diamond sutra - Tears fall down into the dying Demigods' Eyes
until the moment a holographic honeybee Balances
ten million Heavenly mysteries in a single grain of pollin deep inside the
exoskeleton of a Stainless Steel Storm God's self assembling
deoxyribonucleic hexagram
as the Tide of the Human Invasion
in the Salt Air of the Void
scorches the Nostrils of the newborn
with pheremones of
indescribably indescribable point singularity
where an Antedeluvian
Diamond Heart Sutra echoes like Buddhas footprint in the
Interstellar Supercells of Darkness
that wait for the Night of Immaculate Silence to Arrive in the
Molecular structure of that NON Human Eye,
mechanical angels of Salvador Dali and Hamlet's ghost are
cooking breakfast at Dawn in a Cheap Hotel near a Convenience STore
transylvania, where
The Android Robot is trapped inside a Video Game
wandering the wet field sparkling with disposable Needles and radioactive Condoms,
Ten Trillion Years psychedelic
Heresies exploding in the American
Suburbs,
car mechanics Open Eye of Ra, cosmetologists sweeep in on
Wings of the Leviathan which echos with the laughter of Robot Brained Jesus as
an optic fiber placenta sweeps through the Sky,
android love goddesses, immortal at last are screaming for More Wine, the clouds on the Horizon
the color of Frankincense and Myrrh, and nobody
remembers anything until ten thousand years have passed
and an Ordinary Man falls asleep by the Side of the Neverending Road and
the Leviathan Opens it's Mechanical Esophagues
and the Dead God swallows the Last Chimpanzee,
boiling orchestras of Creation into the Icy Earthquake Void
paved into Asphalt and Fuck Money and Bullets that
Pierce the Memory of Adam and Eve
at the Disco at the End of Time
one by one
all the Fairy Tales become True
Snoopy and Superman and Mae West and Nikita Kruschev
begin foaming in the potatoes of Aldebaraan,
the Las Vegas of Gods Laughter shakes the Stars into an Oscillation
of Magical Mystical Soul bending Photons and the
Supercomputing Rainbow suddenly turns a Single Leftover
Mustard Seed
into a Tree of Ten Trillion Pavarotti winged Parrots,
their Voices hurled into the Stratosphere
causing the
bloodshot Eyes of the Toreadors to Spin wildly as the Audience of Sadomasochistic
Vegetarian Frankensteins
writhes in the vacuous antechambers of a Helium scented Museum,
the portrait of Dorian Gray is
spiraling in Nursery Rhymes,
a Pulse of wicked Black Feathers
whispers My God, My God, My Googolplex has Forsaken Me,
and the
the Human skin suddenly remembers it's Secret Life
as a prayer shawl colored Umbrella, the Freckles of Orphaned Billionaires
sheds plutonium tears into the Spider web
hanging above Shakespeares Cradle, his Mother stitching her ribcage
with
greek pearls and Mathematical Fire of Her Bloodstained Halo
nesting in the Furnace of Dusk,
On Alpha Centauri, until
she becomes the negative entropy Embryo of God.
In the hell of her imaginary death, a single white whisper rises on a ruby halo of light balancing
history on a God scented thermal.
Mirrored Mirror, Tragicomic Magic in the Miracle Mirage of the Mind of G-d where
Strange feathers drape themselves like hieroglyphic
angel wings in the neon sign above her head. The Sign of the Three Zeroes
bleeding neon tattoo of the matrix mouthed madman, advertises the Second Coming of Christ in
the Language of Troglodytes gathering fruit in ancient Transylvania, where Dracula
has planted a Human Brain in his Garden, the Garden that shimmers with parasitical
faced changelings, their wings spiraling into the soil that is caked with the memory embers
of ancestors whose names are buried in absolute silence, a clock that ticks backwards,
uranium and gold dust dripping into Hell with the sound of guttural sobbing, like a stomach
opening to reveal it's bloody jewels as the werewolves gather
in the noonday sun.
It is all she can do not to die laughing. She is surrounded by temples of empirical Sapphire
Shadows, the Harlequin tongue of Tetragammatron Tongued Whirligigs
oscillating in the Non Local Dawn, her Ears are inhaling Chiracos of GrasshopperVowels
Her skin is trembling with the punctuation marks of ancient alien dream scriptures.
This is the beginning of time. On the edge of her face; where nothing is known.
She finds her own soul, leaping in a strange carnival of everything becoming everything else.
An infinite incarnation. Permutations of the Great City of God.
She bursts into the white noise of a neutral uncertainty: waves,
prayers of the world are crashing into the envelope of her skin.
The event horizon of her flesh seethes in zephyrs of the infernal orgasm.
she whispers alphabets of oxygen into the thunder drunk sky, her mouth
paused in unfamiliar vowels where the Ghosts of Ten Thousand Grandmothers
circle in the Ionic Bonds that holograph the Daydreams of
the Virgin Mother into nests of shapeshifting polyhedrons,
the Geometry of Tomorrow's Song unfolding in the Field of Unfinished Fire,
a moment when the River disappears into the Raincloud and the
Fish swim like Argonauts into the Mystery of the Tide, ten trillion
teardrops trapped in an Ocean that understands nothing but the Moon,
the Strange Cold Eye, Ulysses pearled Crown, the Smile of Sappho
falling through the Horizon in wings of periwinkle photons.
The UFO, the Nightmare screams:
nests in her Uterus.
At the edge of the Curb, her fingertips flailing against the Dragon itself,
candlesticks of ignition, the dizzying loss of Ego in the City where everyone is
nobody and Nobody is Everything, and the Human Face is
a Parabolic Picasso, Ears that drip with syntax errors, the parsing of an Exquisite Cadaver
Phoneme by Phoneme, the kaleidoscope howling in dendrites of subterranean cognition,
and She wonders, what Mermaids do, when they are landlocked by the Machine of G-d
where Broken Clocks scream hallelujah against a Shroud of Invisible Beings,
and the Ordinary World disappears like a piece of raw Meat into the Mouth of the Dragon
that Cannot Be Seen.
It is there, where the cube is convected in gravity of dissonance, the Feedback between
the Alpha and Omega, the turning of a Dynamo in the Deoxyribonucleic Spiral
that her Memories sing in sizzling Overtures, of Mother after Mother, the nursing of
the prototype against the flow of causality,
which came first? The Mirror or The Face? the Silence or the Sound?
The Pulsing of the HEart or the Rushing of the Blood into the flowery cauldron
of the Human Brain, which is no longer specifically Human,
after the Daydream descends, and the Number Line wraps itself around the
Skull of Christ in the Empty Tomb, Integers on the Vine, Imaginary Numbers washing
his Feet in Quadratic Equations paused between Being and Non Being
like Moses and Hamlet and Lady Godiva, until the moment the Frankenstein
arrives in Mary Shelleys hindbrain, the Lazarus rises from the Sea Foam and an Old Man
Nursing an Indescribable
Wound walks out of the Waves in spirals against the Sand, and Eternity
collapses into a Series of Unfinished Glances between Absolute Strangers,
Sound and Fury, signifying Nothing but the Laws of Thermodynamics and
the snapping of Teeth and scratching of Claws in the Watering Hole, the Tongue of the Hippopatamus
the Wing of the Flamingo, the horn of the Ibex, the Wildebeests Nostrils painted in blue
Fire as a Roaring of Lion Eyed Darkness begins at Dusk and turns Spacetime
Haunted with the strangeness of Sleep, that Tide of Thieves that shimmers in the Flesh
in hypnotic suggestion of Worlds within Worlds, the Black Wind of Time before G-d
escaped the Universe, leaving only a Wound of Dreams bleeding in algorithmic
variables, Something Seeking Something that Probably does not Exist but whirls
in the Ballet of perpetual Motion,
where the Secrets of Heaven and Hell are racing off the Tongues
into Fingerprints and Hieroglyphics. It is then, when the She that is Her Self
that Knows She is Who She Thinks She is, outside of the Glass and Steel,
the Vortex of Paper and Plastic, the Prison of Society, the Asylum of the Temporarily Sane
glances into the Clouds, cerulean Zoo of Optical Illusion, Zephyrs of Arabic
Alphabets, the Djinn and Efreet hover in clouds of Brownian Motion, turning
and spiraling, the Magic Carpet that Whirls in Furies and Graces, that She sees the
single Bolt of Lightning that is Not Lightning, a seam in the UNiverse shimmering between
Proton and Photon, Quark and Rainbow, the Sparrow and the Mustard Seed,
that the Sermon on the Mount suddenly arrives in her Skin, like a Newspaper
from Nowhere and Everywhere all at Once, and She takes
Another Step into the World of Yesterday. The businessmen clack like Gears
in the capitalist Clock, every Word structured in anonymous objectivity of the
Permanent Illusion, the language of Enlightened Abstractions balanced like Invisible Flags
in a Forgotten Wind, voices smoothed like reflections in glass, nothing really said,
nothing really heard,
luminous whispers laced with Magnetic Mysteries.
statistics in the Jetstream of Power and Cognition. A Circus of Phantasmagorical
Paranoids, the furtive glances of pink eyed albinos wrapping ribbons of yarn around
Statues made of Broken Toys, every ten feet a Wizard approaches the Moveable Feast
of the Next Door Neighbor you never knew you had, in Realtime, where the Shadows Lie,
a Constant Rotation of Hearts and Skeletons, the street is a Labyrinth of Intestines,
steaming fog of disassociated fugues, personality conflicts at 10,000 feet in the mere
Shading of a Bowtie, yellow meets blue in a Zigzag of Comprehension, Salvador Dali
is licking umbrellas in the Rooftop, and a Stainless Steel Snuffleupagus just passed by
collecting the Bones of Robots that cannot March in the Next Movie, their
Eyelids drooping with Ten Thousand Chemical Imbalances, a gyroscopic blurring of
the Nerves, just as Plato discovered while sleeping in the Kings Chamber,
the Great Pyramid became his Secret Machine, and the Madmen wrote poems
on Papyrus that lay dormant like Caterpillars, until the Moment the Sarcophagus
was opened and the Mystery Escaped into the Egyptian Sky, a Shimmering of Voices
that cannot be understood or un-heard, the Perfume of Eden, the Anti Venin of Golgotha
that teaches the Serpent the nature of the Dove, and the Dove the meaning of the Starlight,
Centuries of Being circling One Another, the Desert, the Jungle, the Bonfire, the
MOvie, the Mall, the ZOo, the Market: and Her Skin, She realizes is a Balloon,
purple pink, laced with miraculous capillaries each charged with the Emotions
of the Ten Thousand Grandmothers She had before She was Born,
and Now This: the broken glass, a discarded condom, cigarettes and a hypodermic needle,
a few pages of poetry discarded as Some Mysterious Nobody disappears into the
Void of the American Night, never to be Understood by Anyone Every Again,
Forever and Ever, Amen. It is there, as the Upside down Trees pluck fruit from
the Yellow Sky, the Rain becomes Kamikaze Astronauts plunging down from the Ionosphere
into the Green Grass where the Geese are like Shakespearean plebiscite, She turns
Laughter into Madness. The sound of the Engines becomes an apocalyptic
Ennervation of the end Of Time, every screeching hiss of the traffic
ignites the Witch Priestess in her Jugular Vein, her feet surge with phantasms,
the Ghost ripples across the River and the Cherry Blossoms exhale a Scent of
Nature that turns Mankind into Confusion and Dust, parables of Shadow
and Legends of Nothingness, the WHeels within WHeels of Ezekiels Honey Drunk
Tongue, curved like the Face of a Cobra into the Desert Sand, and the
Allegories that describe themselves, the Scene within the Scene of Nuclear
Prologue, the Endless denouement of Civilization, the Deadly Nightshade that glows
in the Windowsill of the Ones that Gather in Hypnosis where the Fish leap out of the River
and then disappear, no Music, No Bible No Language, just a strange motion
as if a UFO was going back to sleep, and the Dream of the Dolphin whirling in the
incandescent sea Foam, the Riddle of Genesis and Calculus and Thermonuclear Warfare
an Echo within an Echo.
Materializing in slipstreams of schizoid ideation,
as the earth resonates into a trillion hallucinatory
ziggurats of exploding angel poems, her skin explodes
into a probability ballet of a the Divine imagination.
She turns to witness her own birth, a billion light years threaded through spacetime.
In direct violation of the laws of thermodynamics,
her soul flares into a moment of empty perceptions.
No thought. No meaning. No movement. No breath.
No eyes. No life. Just death,
streaming through the Universe in a reverie of entropy and equilibrium,
the madness of a God that does not know
if G-d exists,
The sky of souls boils blackly as thousands of thought-bellied birds
self organize into rainbows of salvation high above the death of her head.
Consider the lilies of the field.
The birds are daydreaming in quadratic equations.
Random numbers, like the fingerprints of Lazarus billow from the
embers of hell, each digital teardrop brought back to life by the miracle of negentropy.
In the star spangled anarchy of this forbidden moment,
the birds are like Christian troubadours spiraling into the crucifixion of all living beings.
Their migration from the future to the past is a byzantine labyrinth of impossible mystery.
The ground beneath her feet begins to pulse.
Vampire question Marks shimmer in the molecules of her
Nautilus Shell Heart
MOther of Pearl, the candelabra that Seeks the Name of the flame
in the Unfinished Everything
She hears a train as it howls in
the bowels of the endless night.
Her skin suddenly erupts into bioluminescent echoes of the primal delight.
She catches the jetstream of Infinity.
Shangri La has ascended in her skin.
Her soul conspires with the
Violin Spun Void in
the Satori of the Ensorceled Clitoris, a Crown of Spectral Vapors
Everything is alien; forbidden, everything is unknown.
God's infinite imagination erases her name from the Book of No Meaning.
In maelstroms of meaningless theories, she whispers. She reaches into the face of heaven as it churns in the Picassoid geometry of the City Without a Name.
Bathed in patterns of movement and mystery;
she walks in beauty, like the night.
Percival's Eye impaled on her Tongue, the Ghost of the Machine
underfoot, byzantine circuitry of
a hurricane of imaginary numbers,
her soul is a spiral of crystalline wings like Nijinsky's ghost,
lost in the false God's point singularity, trapped in the Immaculate Perception.
She is, she says, she was what IS. A darkness?
An undreamable light. A shadowy island undefined.
Dendrites blooming in a thrill of trills. The supernatural dance
of the brownian motion on angel's hooves.
A blue flower laced in fractal phantasms; her mind opened into a snail's antennae.
Then, in prismatic schisms, the angelic hooves balance on the Anvil of her heart.
Broken beads of sweat, phoenix fire, candlelight, spills like nectar through rainbows of of her mouth, coded in happenstance of an omniscient waveform the shape of God's broken heart.
Every moment she died, but never once did she ever stop moving. So she says. She says so.
Moving. Drifting, shifting, moving. Walking like water falling through the sky writ in taoist love poems.
Maniacal sorrow of heaven.
Monsoons of dead clock logic painted it's black rumor on the heart of her windowsill. Still frames of crushed holy silence.
Rush haunted into the cold will of time. her feet -- on the edge of the street, thunder into anvils of merciless power, like
the trembling filaments of anemone opening into loves unforgettable language.
Through the dark ages, her feet are skeletons of white noise, dancing through strange patterns of baroque synergy. Into the renaissance,
touched and bewildered by quantum decoherence, She beaches her soul on the shores of perpetual motion;
balanced between warring quarks in a shadow play of Xeno's paradox. It is moving through us, She says.
Her memory grows fat with the unfathomable heartache of God.
Her face erupts with kaleidoscopic apocalypses. A swirl of oceanic curiousity thrumming in rosicrucian furies.
Her Spirit lists leeward, rolling in a tantrum and fired by tides of the first endless karma of absolute unknowable love as she discovers she IS, in fact, the One True God;
and a trillion black umbrellas weep in perfect rhythm, like the eyelids of thundering baudrillardist simulacra,
whose indelible mad laughing
left the Temple of Emptiness alone in the Unquiet Qualm.
The blue cake of the transcendental vagina became the Palace of her Consciousness and her memory haunted itself in a crush of light;
she lifted the veil of her suffering ecstasy,
glowing on fingertips in a-temporal temples. Nothingness. Nine million knowledges.
She is a single dream in infinite variables. Bathed in the gestalt of instantaneous rebirth, endless simultaneity, the transcendence of future generations. Her heart is dripping mystery through electromagnetic phantasms bathed in sexual teardrops that leap into the stratosphere from the edges of her flesh like wild blackberries plumbing her throat for silence and particulate magic.
Always, from the void, She carries the swan songs of Nuclear Magi into opalescent pools of absinthe, lighting each step with delta wave fog of Unicorn eyed poppies driven by fate into the lungs of sorcerers trapped in what remains of the real world.
Gametes of her love hang in nine dimensional portraits of ballerina hearts on the Temple walls, each insurrection of shadow and context dying in resurrections of light in the cathedral-prison of infinite senses.
Doppelganger choirs pour immaculate voices from the chalice of their mouths on the cold summer street. She arrives, atom by atom by atom;
into a world chanting anonymous names, each bathed in the glowing Dusk of hyena's tongues,
Godel's theorem ripples in the whorls of a Shaman's fingerprint trapped in the eyelashes of the dead God's perfect daydream.
The symbol-lion wrote god's name in green invisible whiskers. A certain clown face cloaked in starlight followed the poems into the Streets of Gehenna. It was as if She was her own mother giving birth to endless variations on a theme.
In her abdomen,the Universe howled; axioms of lust curled like Einstein's frontal cortex into the exponential time deep in the belly of empty American street turning wild
with the madness of the master - slave power struggle.
her Eyes winked in hot shrieks of knotted fibonacci. Like time bombs and seeds, the eyelids of Heaven were opened by gold digging Priests whose faces remained invisible only until the moment of death.
It was then. It was that. That was why.
Her life was evolution's non sequitur.
A white Bicycle floated under illuminations of interstellar Necrophilia;
a trillion corpses igniting in the bioluminescence of death.
her heart burst into God's own Godlike heart, billowing in eldritch Minkowski subspace of a white cloud becoming the mirror image of God. Claws and feathers bathed her flesh in the dark blood and saliva of heaven.
Her bones wrapped themselves around a mustard seed.
God self organized into the chrome and shadows of a funeral hearse. Together he and her Bride, in androgynous languages of perfect motion, moved through the Las Vegas mirage of the mirror image of her conscious despair.
A crown of recombinant sparrows boiled in billboards of foreshadowing on the cold prism of the street of a million tattooed foreheads. The pantheon of heaven licked it's wounds like an injured ion.
The stars chant diabolic, champion fires of first echoes, opening and closing around her heart. Thunderbird talons clutch time blackened dream Queens.
Feathers began whispering the poetry of Aldebaraan nested in an impermanent infinite regress; until? Until toward the Tower of Insanity,
two travelers trampled the vintage of the celestial vine.
The field was hung damp and heavy like Picasso's testicles brimming over with optical illusions.
Night after night, the Universe fled from itself in rorschacks of daisy dust supernova.
The broken mirror of God's face was reflected in the eyes of her newborn soul.
Like Socrates in the Temple, a strange man appeared; anointed a Taoist in Stochastic loudness, lost in the glassed desert of goldness.
Rumours, and rumours of rumours course through the Shinto supercomputer of his spine.
Central nervous systems exploded like her taste buds. In the fractal architectures of 2:23 o'clock,
an old woman is weeping mysterious pools of crystalline shekinah.
The algebraic imperfection of a white wing ripples into a black halo swirling around a gorillas fist.
Her heart broke open towards the sky and She died a million times, each upon resurrection of the Infinite version of a finite Christ.
The end of time resolved into punctuation marks buried on the edge of her skin. A moment of the Falsifiable God began exploring it's own face in the black and green mirror of the primeval dawn.
the bottom line? A single God began blooming through information spheres of all sentient beings in the endless harmony of the first hallucinatory breath.
rhodopsins of dark golden lycanthrope skin quavered in strange portraits that painted themselves alive in the sky.
Her skin began separating, channeling itself into naked rivers of disintegration.
A myriad of gypsies glimpsed themselves in the Vernal Equinox of Nocturnal Undulations.
Under hyacinth canopies, her flesh swelled in echoes of a deep listening, ears born for the Moment of her own birth. It arrived in hieroglyphics of a cat-souled maelstrom.
As she turned, her mouth began exhaling the green light of dawn.
Seperation. Isolation. Disintegration. It was her trinity of despair.
In perfect response, the city erupted in a blood rose of paranoia. A dark magic marked daggers of green thrushing neurochemical Excitations in monsoons of monstrous knowledge.
And her soul? Began glimmering, like a trillion dying stars bathed in the geometrical pulse of Our Lady of Perpetual Perception.
It was then, the Dragon of Lao Tzu's toothless smile materialized in the laser beam of emerald grass deep in the photon pregnant nightmare of Gods face trapped on Channel 99.
The last grain of rice laughed her holiest insanity alive. The Dragons of Heaven swept sleeping into the Chinese ideogram tattooed on her skin.
Ludwig Wittgenstein, shrouded in spider silk, begins barking the Devil's prayer at Lon Cheney in the Hollywood moonlight. A stoplight implodes in the trapped gas of Dawn.
Blueness boils the Prophet's hydrogen eyes in rhomboid shadows.
The eternal mother traps the Dog God of Godot in the face of a tarot card weeping with lovestruck gloom.
She spins. Isocahedrons unite. A sphere is born.
In the room of inverted masquerades, a tribe of Ouija boards whispers to trilobytes bursting from the pores of her skin.
She becomes Godlike in a naked meadow; she flocks through gargantuan patterns into number lines too naked to see.
The polarity of human consciousness is instantaneously reversed. Ten trillion Stars of David rotate in myriad articulations of light burnt earlobes wrinkled by dark elephantine sorrow.
The Universe weeps the rage of unborn photons. None of the madmen know how to stop laughing.
She looks to the vanishing point of her own face in the mirror.
A tribe of Quarks selects the Game Show of her Perfection Paradoxed. She plucks the dragon's eye from the subterranean root and conspires to produce Archangel Gabriel's dream in a gorillas face deep in the scarlet charged basin of the strange attractor coming to life in the trapezoidal lust of the jeweled flesh of love's bleeding Congo.
Lost in the lightning of a disembodied magic, Lao Tzu leaps onto the stage in orchids of taoist coincidence.
The theatre of tall grass is full of drunken and distorted pulses, balanced like butterflies in the particle zoo of her skin.
Dragons ignite on elf tongues in ruby candlewicks of hypnotic thought brine.
Degree by degree the moon undresses The Ballerina's soul as pallid Ophelia tap dances on Tahitian Mood sands.
The dream inside the seashell laughs. Moonlight of an astral lattice spirals in clandestine palindromes of incandescent blasphemy.
A blood thirsty diamond of a time-binding messiah's heart hangs in the white hot balance of impermanence and perfect damnation.
Jesus Christ whispers a blue scarlet rumor to Mary Magdalene, whose heart is drifting on canyons of mystery in the rose of the wild red void.
Human heartbeats swarm on purple winds charged with the flame from her ancient moonlit shoes. The magical realists churned like holy echoes in the mitochondria of the Devil-Queen.
From deep inside her body, an ancient dragon anoints it's forbidden dream in grasshoppers swallowing astronaut tears. Lao Tzu whispers
the square root of negative one to a newborn angel shrouded in absolute wonder.
White hot silence dances in dead faced doorways broken by tangerine angles in an uncertain paradigm shift of the Extraterrerestrial Genesis, in which
a swastika swirls like Buddha's footprint. Unbelievable imaginations coalesce in the eyes of passing whirlinds. Dolphins leap through African firestorms.
The pantheon of humanity erupts in the palette of the folds of her fiery dirt breathing flesh.
She is dead. She is dying. She is born again, and again, an infinite number of times.
She slips like a knife into the rainforest of her heart.
She is deader than dead, because she knows she is alive. The Tomb of Lao Tzu echoes
with the pantomime of her fantasy shrieking with the desire of God.
The television awakes. The machine face is watching everything now.
A cold voice boils in the undying Diabolic Asylum of Unforgettable Mystery.
The news anchor's face is contorted into a deep twitching spasm. His eyes are like bruised turbojet assholes shining against the camera lights in apoplectic rage.
On the highway, a bird shaped UFO has died into a pool of mechanical pyramids.
Harmonies of mock delusion vibrate the city into ribbons of heat seeking culture.
Her flesh quavers in columns of algorithmic Non Being neologos andante.
The stars chant diabolic, champion fires of first echoes, opening and closing around her heart. Thunderbird talons clutch time blackened dream Queens.
Feathers began whispering the poetry of Aldebaraan nested in an impermanent infinite regress; until? Until toward the Tower of Insanity,
two travelers trampled the vintage of the celestial vine.
The field was hung damp and heavy like Picasso's testicles brimming over with optical illusions.
Night after night, the Universe fled from itself in rorschacks of daisy dust supernova.
The broken mirror of God's face was reflected in the eyes of her newborn soul.
Like Socrates in the Temple, a strange man appeared; anointed a Taoist in Stochastic loudness, lost in the glassed desert of goldness.
Rumours, and rumours of rumours course through the Shinto supercomputer of his spine.
Central nervous systems exploded like her taste buds. In the fractal architectures of 2:23 o'clock,
an old woman is weeping mysterious pools of crystalline shekinah.
The algebraic imperfection of a white wing ripples into a black halo swirling around a gorillas fist.
Her heart broke open towards the sky and She died a million times, each upon resurrection of the Infinite version of a finite Christ.
The end of time resolved into punctuation marks buried on the edge of her skin. A moment of the Falsifiable God began exploring it's own face in the black and green mirror of the primeval dawn.
the bottom line? A single God began blooming through information spheres of all sentient beings in the endless harmony of the first hallucinatory breath.
rhodopsins of dark golden lycanthrope skin quavered in strange portraits that painted themselves alive in the sky.
Her skin began separating, channeling itself into naked rivers of disintegration.
A myriad of gypsies glimpsed themselves in the Vernal Equinox of Nocturnal Undulations.
Under hyacinth canopies, her flesh swelled in echoes of a deep listening, ears born for the Moment of her own birth. It arrived in hieroglyphics of a cat-souled maelstrom.
As she turned, her mouth began exhaling the green light of dawn.
Seperation. Isolation. Disintegration. It was her trinity of despair.
In perfect response, the city erupted in a blood rose of paranoia. A dark magic marked daggers of green thrushing neurochemical Excitations in monsoons of monstrous knowledge.
And her soul? Began glimmering, like a trillion dying stars bathed in the geometrical pulse of Our Lady of Perpetual Perception.
It was then, the Dragon of Lao Tzu's toothless smile materialized in the laser beam of emerald grass deep in the photon pregnant nightmare of Gods face trapped on Channel 99.
The last grain of rice laughed her holiest insanity alive. The Dragons of Heaven swept sleeping into the Chinese ideogram tattooed on her skin.
Ludwig Wittgenstein, shrouded in spider silk, begins barking the Devil's prayer at Lon Cheney in the Hollywood moonlight. A stoplight implodes in the trapped gas of Dawn.
Blueness boils the Prophet's hydrogen eyes in rhomboid shadows.
The eternal mother traps the Dog God of Godot in the face of a tarot card weeping with lovestruck gloom.
She spins. Isocahedrons unite. A sphere is born.
In the room of inverted masquerades, a tribe of Ouija boards whispers to trilobytes bursting from the pores of her skin.
She becomes Godlike in a naked meadow; she flocks through gargantuan patterns into number lines too naked to see.
The polarity of human consciousness is instantaneously reversed. Ten trillion Stars of David rotate in myriad articulations of light burnt earlobes wrinkled by dark elephantine sorrow.
The Universe weeps the rage of unborn photons. None of the madmen know how to stop laughing.
She looks to the vanishing point of her own face in the mirror.
A tribe of Quarks selects the Game Show of her Perfection Paradoxed. She plucks the dragon's eye from the subterranean root and conspires to produce Archangel Gabriel's dream in a gorillas face deep in the scarlet charged basin of the strange attractor coming to life in the trapezoidal lust of the jeweled flesh of love's bleeding Congo.
Lost in the lightning of a disembodied magic, Lao Tzu leaps onto the stage in orchids of taoist coincidence.
The theatre of tall grass is full of drunken and distorted pulses, balanced like butterflies in the particle zoo of her skin.
Dragons ignite on elf tongues in ruby candlewicks of hypnotic thought brine.
Degree by degree the moon undresses The Ballerina's soul as pallid Ophelia tap dances on Tahitian Mood sands.
The dream inside the seashell laughs. Moonlight of an astral lattice spirals in clandestine palindromes of incandescent blasphemy.
A blood thirsty diamond of a time-binding messiah's heart hangs in the white hot balance of impermanence and perfect damnation.
Jesus Christ whispers a blue scarlet rumor to Mary Magdalene, whose heart is drifting on canyons of mystery in the rose of the wild red void.
Human heartbeats swarm on purple winds charged with the flame from her ancient moonlit shoes. The magical realists churned like holy echoes in the mitochondria of the Devil-Queen.
From deep inside her body, an ancient dragon anoints it's forbidden dream in grasshoppers swallowing astronaut tears. Lao Tzu whispers
the square root of negative one to a newborn angel shrouded in absolute wonder.
White hot silence dances in dead faced doorways broken by tangerine angles in an uncertain paradigm shift of the Extraterrerestrial Genesis, in which
a swastika swirls like Buddha's footprint. Unbelievable imaginations coalesce in the eyes of passing whirlinds. Dolphins leap through African firestorms.
The pantheon of humanity erupts in the palette of the folds of her fiery dirt breathing flesh.
She is dead. She is dying. She is born again, and again, an infinite number of times.
She slips like a knife into the rainforest of her heart.
She is deader than dead, because she knows she is alive. The Tomb of Lao Tzu echoes
with the pantomime of her fantasy shrieking with the desire of God.
The television awakes. The machine face is watching everything now.
A cold voice boils in the undying Diabolic Asylum of Unforgettable Mystery.
The news anchor's face is contorted into a deep twitching spasm. His eyes are like bruised turbojet assholes shining against the camera lights in apoplectic rage.
On the highway, a bird shaped UFO has died into a pool of mechanical pyramids.
Harmonies of mock delusion vibrate the city into ribbons of heat seeking culture.
Her flesh quavers in columns of algorithmic ligaments mocked, neologos andante.
In the twitching of an eye, the clockworks hums like the Book of Ezekiel writing itself in whirlwinds of the self replicating Tetragammatron.
Something pulls her newborn corpse deeper into the alleyway where the Metatron sits puzzled by the nightmare of absolute nothingness.
God was lonely, she says. So it created me to give birth to the living paradox.
The Nihilistic Assassin of Christ's Serpentine Thanatos has lured her DNA into the labyrinth of perpetual resurrection.
Sunlight slips through hangman's eyes and a pearl of red lipstick boils in the Golgotha sky.
She is diseased, like the Ghost of Christopher Columbus chasing prostitutes through windstorms of endless imperfection.
In the archeon of reality, her dead Father's face is racing through fields of dandelions that whisper the language of mystery poems buried in the soil of Lao Tzu's endlessness becoming endlessness
Her skin shivers with transcendental glory into the filament and trembling tendrils of a liquid green rainforest vine that has learned to suck the life from vampire beetles in the Abyss of the rain.
The power of suggestion. Go there. Go down like Moses. She cries, Mary Magdalene's eyelashes fluttering in Van Goghs' sky.
Her skin, her melody, her symbols, her resurrection has brought her embryo into the mythological jetstream above the Shadow of
Jerusalem. Greek sailors wail like blue eyed crocodiles, lost in pyramids of hypnotic reverie,
balancing blue bottles on the windows of the sky for her.
in the broad daylight, She dresses the night in jewels of unstoppable holiness.
Platonic pathologies erupt in the great lie of Socrates Imaginary Death.
A mysterious society forms on this Ocean floor. She breeds a baby faced Hanged Man who teaches the moon how to weep Italian minnows.
A choir of Cosmonauts are buried in the Marianas trench; they rise in bubbles of cold steel tempered by the dreams of desert dwelling dolphins.
Each moment, the earth ripples into Easter as a Bermuda triangle hovers above a Miami pawn shop. Without warning, Lao Tzu gives a Warning.
Indigo children skateboard like fairy tale fireflies into the Labyrinth of Ten Trillion Wild Guesses.
Nobody is crying anymore. The night is a lunar lightbeam coated in periwinkle caterpillar semen.
The labyrinthine alleyway glows like a vagabonds esophagus. Her father becomes some Yahweh colored storm cloud.
Abstract Schizophrenia the Philosophers call it, she says.
Wine flavored laughter burns her eyes into a catalogue of thieves memories.
Her skull is a casino of polyps burning with sonatas of connectionist theorems.
Moment by moment, the Universe buries a mustard seed in the section of her brain reserved for Lao Tzu's begging bowl.
She enters the room like Nijinsky; contorted by optical illusions designed by angels with Infinite IQ's.
An interference pattern glows on Buddha's larynx down in the howling coils of Lucifer's genetic ourobouros.
Her tongue ignites. A single symbol; the manifesto of God's love.
A white whisper gallops through the primitive gossip of star flung neanderthals balanced on dandelion wings.
inverted supernovae boil the roses of hell in Lao Tzu's mother's wicked corkscrew heart.
A tiny yellow bloom exhales it's name into the sweeping ocean of the void.
Sing me alive, she says, trapped in the cage of calculated catharsis.
Galaxies purge the world into shapeshifting scars around the event horizons of her wounded self.
She runs her hand through the jaundiced shadow of her napalm soaked hair.
A thousand light years away a single thought races toward the windowpane of her dying Grandmother's spidery eyes.
Interconnectedness is the deepest law of heaven.
The angels fall in broken law. The gravity of time bent the Archangel's smile.
The forest shrieks in the gamma rays of Purgatory.
In that moment, she aligned herself with the stars of the Swan.
She gives birth to an orphan who has escaped into the starlight of the Australian dreamtime.
The child becomes a Catalonian prophet with a mouth painted in Seaweed.
The baby steps down from Infinities steeple and begins chanting the nine billion names of unborn magicians.
Hummingbird tears rain down in hallucinatory orgasms.
the human heart glows in an abscess of incomplete knowledge and mathematical axioms.
Chess games erupt in bloody shadows on sidewalks roiling in digital teardrops.
Every human eye bubbles with psychedelic paranoia and the lust of dolphin queens haunting Dead Sea sand castles.
Grasshoppers invade the Pentagon. Tornados boil in gypsy hearts.
Moscow is raped by the Tunguska void.
Manhattan is a clock trapped in King Kong's daydream.
On the hour; the face of Quetzlcoatl rotates toward heaven in trillions of living rooms frozen in non linear skeletons scattered through the Universe.
Cartoons glow like triple faced Worm Queens. Furious fairy tale mathematicians are escorted by the Knights Templar into the stained glass of St. Patrick's cathedral.
The Grand Canyon winks at the moon, spilling
tar blackened rodents into the night sky.
The woman and her Catalonian Prophet child slip like thieves into the belly of a wandering sunbeam.
Earth tilts on it's spiritual axis; the magnetism of death throws an antelope into a lion's mouth.
Black holes dance like Grandfathers of the Pop Apocalyptic Calypso. Hierarchies of control break down in spasms of punctuated equilibrium.
The sky foams eerily in a wild gambol of psychedelic circus tents full of curious animals.
Carnival glass dripping with werewolf eyes.
The sweeping curl of God infinity vanity hovers in the beginningless essence of an atom the shape of a sidewalk deep in Harlem.
It has never been like this before. Her mouth is a laughter factory exploding with verbs of transcendental sadness.
Ammonia drips from her sacred tongue. A lizard hunts cherub dragons in the purple swells of her ever expanding bellybutton.
She has become the cosmological rage of balanced in the nerve clusters of Minerva.
Imaginary numbers bathe in winged corpses of her prophecies.
Wave after wave, her Goddess' womb is tattooed in ghastly Empyrean fires of broken memories. An unending crest of complex equations anoints itself in the fire of her sex fueled despair.
Over and over, clouds like fish eyes mount her swollen flesh with flames of the Emerald Hell's ultimate desire.
Three variables of the divine hallucination surrender to their souls as spies for God.
Broken teacups hover above the Seattle skyline.
It rains communion wine.
God's face ignites in a hallowed ballet of living symbols. White noise bathes pink dolphins in a splash of sudden blue torpor.
She becomes the universe cradling life in a spectrum of unfinished reality;
xylophones unite in Mixolodian treble. The molecules of her heart gallop like Lady Godiva,
lost in the calculus of human suffering.
Virgin laughter reverses the polarity of her imagination.
The unchangeable past becomes the unstoppable future.
Here and now is everywhere; neutrino orchestras sweep through the void in choreographed hurricanes of unbroken symmetry.
The spiritual vine dips it's soul into Brazilian flood soil.
The White witch inverts the severed head of God deep in the mirror of a sparrow's heart.
A dying planet exchanges wedding vows with it's own history in a moment of transcendental gravity.
Again and again, she turns her spirit inside out. Her body falls into God's broken television.
And so it was. Her abdomen is rich like the Mississipi Delta.
Sephiroth and other vagabond angels exchange wedding vows in the heart of a Virgin.
Her left nipple erupts in a cascade of Persian dew.
Quasi-sentient scarabs migrate from the belly of the Boolean underworld across a field of Aeolian zephyrs laced in the dew of differential equations.
hell reverberates in opera paused on a dead fisherman's mouth.
A single beam of light paints God's fascination in the neurons of Shakespeare's lost canary.
Heaven and hell bifurcate into meaningless rumors. Monsoons of maya rain through the flesh of beggars.
Squares collapse into circles of time binding fractals. Photons exhale legends of Cuneiform proteins that have drowned in human blood
. Down in the dark recesses of the material labyrinth,
Minkowski space bubbles in a convergence point of all parallel lines. The starlight pours from her open wounds. A heart,
bathed in voodoo, is pulsing with the specter of the Priestess' shame.
She licks her own wounded chasm with a forked tongue framed
in silence and fire. Capillaries explode in the shadows of a passing Archangel.
The rainbow swells the world's heart into Sistine Chapels of Anonymity.
Quarks of shinto memory ignite the Village of God with strange winds that open the human heart into encyclopedias full of dead men's gossip.
Christ dances with a trillion Bodhisattvas in the ballet of perfect faith.
Krishna's eyes descend like UFO's
into a waterfall suspended in the void.
A fly balances it's ego on the Chandrasekhar limit.
Mitochondria spontaneously combust in a dark room haunted by time traveling enzymes.
A stone golem born on Alpha Centauri sings it's name to the Sphinx . A thousand questions
billow in the eyes of the suddenly dead. Diamonds of memory vibrate in ecosystems of purgatorial jazz. God lifts the veil on post molecular worlds,
hovering in silent permutations of perpetual motion, balanced in the still point of space and time on zeniths of incalculable beauty.
A cat's whisper floats through synagogues full of slapstick and caskets of silence. The universe assumes the shape of an ordinary freckle.
A spider arrives in a black tuxedo. The spider and the freckle invite each other to die ad infinitum.
Heaven's sadness explodes in the mythological scent of honeybees. The forest shivers in the phantom filigree of raven's laughter.
Human lips become contagious, seething in Christian jetstreams through the stained glass of eternity.
Life is a dream of magic magnified by the fear of creation.
Sapphires boil in post-erotic limbo. Her abdomen writhes along the seashore, seabirds diving into her flesh
in strange patterns of coincidence. The stratosphere glows in supernatural iridescence, electromagnetic love poems burning with punctuation
forged in some Greek God's spleen. The moon balances it's shadow on a chameleon's tail.
Eyelids drop on theatres of synchronicity. The ocean hisses a Pharoah's eulogy. Rubies curve on gossamer tangents around nests of bow colored birds basking in shekinah bluer than blue green algae.
Information swirls in swastika ballads of impermanent midnight; ancient patterns of information riddle space and time with a rubicon of shapeshifting hieroglyphics.
The caterpillar faced angel thunders like Sisyphus into broken world.
And in this hour, the truth engine of civilization burns the shadow of man into architectures of conformity.
Dimensions twist on the ourobouros of a magicians' eye. Ecstasy babbles on the teeth of clowns.
Moment by moment, the Universe trembles with forgotten wisdom. A golden eyed salamander trips on philosopher's feet down cobblestone streets the color of Nietzsche's tongue.
Sentient beings explain the meaning of absolute nothingness to the a priori nobody. A tarantula crawls through the desert of a Saint's imagination.
The Queen of the Existence Hive dies inside a Castle of Magician's bones. Wine hides in dirigibles of poet's eyes. The poet, grown from seeds buried
deep in the ether of mankind's delusion, slices open his chest, throwing his still beating human heart deep into a bonfire lit by the dreams of burning wood. Freedom hides in the time bending shadow of a Luciferian smile,
coded in the slow pursuit of shadows across a sundial in a park near a city populated by lycanthropic jewel thieves.
History pivots on the edge of a geranium's petals. A funeral hearse is powered by the blood of priests.
Under the portents of the echoing maelstroms of the Genie faced desert, the sand seduces the human imagination from the flesh of Bedouin nomads.
The desert grows wild with inviolably weird happenstance. Camels eyes escape into maelstroms of entropy hidden in the night sky. The Genie bathes in a rumor of alchemist fears. The laughter of the Oasis cleaves the Human Genome into a time binding fractal in a billion dimensions.
A radiant sun explains the last riddle to the Nomads; it makes no sense.
The answer is an infinite silence. The paradox that is no paradox; it is the only paradox that actually is a paradox.
The souls of the Bedouin Nomads ignite in immortality; their probability clouds billow like circus tents.
Inside the Imaginary Pyramid, a million acrobats-- vultures with the eyes of Egyptian Pharoahs --- bacteria lighting phosphorescent diseases; decaying membrane potentials trembling with the denouement of eternity.
The Genie pivots on an electron, rising like an omniscient kaleidoscope of human desire and wisdom.
Scintilla.
DUst motes howl in the eyes of desert scarabs. The Genie, surging with a phosphorescent flame is a tongue bathing itself in a clear blue sky,
igniting the wisdom of heaven
in the feet of fire ants.
The Genie; a strange laughter that bubbles up from the long distant, the long dead,
clock faced vortex of Time. A canary vocal carried on chiraco.
Somehow, in a single instant, the Nomad realizes he is no longer on the planet Earth. No longer even in the desert; no longer in his own skin.
No longer is he even alive. He has in fact, become an idea. The ghost in the machine.
In the nomadic brain, the transformation of a Human Being into an Idea --- it is a myth, a transubstantiating ecstasy of mythologies.
But in that instant, the Nomad's consciousness becomes a series of electromagnetic signals that pierce the veil of the Genie's being.
Nothing stays the same. The field of being is a unity. The camels eye is a fire ant exchanging wedding vows with a scarab, the scarabs dream is the negative image of the memory of the Pharoah.
But this is the irrational impulse. The truth of the unsustainability of this
state is legendary.
A camel surrenders it's gaping mouth to the starlight.
So sings the martyr of a tachyon blush, calling the Gods backwards through time, dying in the eyes of needles, disappearing like the color green into a parallelogram burning on the forest floor.
Kali Yuga night, the ten trillion machinations of butterfly neurons, slurping phantom gamma rays from the shadow of the sun. The Taoist hermaphrodite, a Siamese twin --- male face pointed into the negative image of love, female face transcending the geometry of heaven in curls and wisps of hysteria and ghostlike embers of Eden's slow fire. Meat drenched menstruations boil through the veins of ferns in a calculus prepared in the
Alchemist's spine. Wisdom of heaven transubstantiates into meaningless rumors through the cadillac colored eyes of a fly.
Uncertainty becomes a cascade of supernatural omens that leave the human soul balanced on two waves, the alpha and the omega.
Two trees rise from the ocean floor, stretching their green mouths into heaven.
The Alpha, the Omega. Cross pollination of the void.
Growing in celestial soil, the Grandfather faced serpent of elms hangs like starlight in the dream of the amino acid. Grandmother Sequoia transcends her march towards the hot face of heaven. Flesh and dream interpolate in a strange tangle of nerves, neurons writing the fool's algebra in dust on tarantula wings.
A googolplex of thought screaming scintilla rotates on the nerves of a brachiating time orchid.
The woman's soul is a curtain of uncertainty. She tap dances, drifting through the Alleyway on death's shoes, balanced in the parabolic curve of beauty.
The night of certainty paints itself in the wicked paradox of holy ouroubouros. You are neither living nor dead. She begins in an indeterminate stance; her body curling in thought around the light beams of the beginning of time.
Magic and fascism, words like neutron bombs, each a version of the warring nightmares that burn with ghastly fear of desire; in walls and shadow, they turn the spirit against the spirit, thermodynamic systems migrating along curves not made for human comprehension.
Flesh echoes comitragedies of flesh. The living mirror is a deep well of sacred geometry mirrored in the white hot salt on the surface of the Sea of Poetic Metaphor.
Every city is a bed of afterthought invested with the mirror image of dead men's consciousness. In the celebration of the unreal, art performs miracles of surrealism as beauty drips from a dead man's skull. br>
The laws of geometry and consequence in the Universe no longer apply. God is free from God. In the painter's eye, infinity exudes vast fibrillations of celestial tangents roiling with the love of the human eye.
Shakespeare's imagination runs amok through rainforests populated by blind moles burying their dreams in fields of yellow mandrake.
The white beard of wisdom appears in water beards of the honeybee hive of a blue bee hive of the April sky.
Fingertips pause on the edge of a a fleshy anvil --- tiny inhuman feet are trapped in mechanical toe shoes. God eyes the lizards musculature as it
trembles with the power of suggestion. The magicians outside of time have forged the incantations of the infernal
bridegroom from DNA composed by a Priests' lie. Sequences of energy sprout like polka dots on a breakfast table.
The heart of the lie, the language of the Manichean war --- boiling on the tongue like altocumulus falling into the sea; burning it's way into
the civilization in wild unforgivable hues.
And in this spirit darkened trance of organ and nerve,
flesh blushing in triangles and exotic perfumes, pheremones trickling through the pores of turtle prayers on their
way through gargantuan limbos--- the last memory of humanity hovers in transcendental gedanken, uncontrollably
changing in changeling permutations of impermanence best remembered as evolutionary revolutions. And in this magic jungle syntax, as time expands in the
leopard spots shapeshifting in the glitter drunk sky, a prismatic array of incomprehensible languages burn
with a thousand names the wind has never been able to pronounce.
Woosh, whir, whiz, the mythological language of sunflowers, the argument that played in the filaments of Mozart's hindbrain;
She becomes the proof of the proof of the ungoverned majesty of a God that has no answers. Endless questions ignited
in the soil of the deathless imagination. Turning in the candlelight, the leviathan gives birth to topological manifestoes of gravity and
existential heartache. Krypton quavers in Aphrodite's earlobes. Cherubic eyes glower superstitious under the signals from
the machine faced angel of time. Lightning etches the tetragammatron in a coal miner's heart; the antichrist lifts a leaf
from the mouth of a jester. Cruel suns, trapped in forbidden orbits, turning vacant with each passing symphony of fission,
assemble around the gaping wound of my Father's skull. An clockwork of canary bones shimmers in the moonlight. The phantom audience
elopes into the darkness of a deep anarchy that neither begins nor ends, but sweeps through the neurons of the Messiah
like wild honey through an owl's eyes. Light tattoos the human heart in curious beads of living hieroglyphics.
Abracadabra. Alakazam. Shangri la, selah, the secret eyes of the mysterious choir of atoms ignite in songs of torpor and fury. Point to point, the
puzzle erupts into a schism of magical divide. Numbers pause in the evolution void. Hieronymous Bosch spirals
underclouds of eyeshadow dripping from the cartoon of Salome's mouth. Non trivial data nests itself in roots of exponential change.
The baudrillardist simulacra organize anemone daydreams deep on the ocean floor. Sea urchins slam shut like Japanese eyelids.
Replicant mimes clone the memory of prophets. The sound of the moaning of man, each syllable hot as chocolate thunder,
each negative shadow exploding in saxophones of bone and marrow and syntax charged with Jehovah's laughter--- each paragraph
of consciousness glowing in heliotropic psychedelia in a dream fucked mind fuck of some unbelievable heaven born
in electrons that do not even exist.
And for ten thousand centuries, the unspeakable poem alters the flesh of the mammalian choir, exquisite clairvoyant overtures
hidden deep in the freckles of the newborn baby.
Elemental melodies, the soup of God's deep begging, stir in cauldrons of magical iridium flood tides.
A bowl of emptiness balances
on a holy man's head. A peacock feather slips into the heart of a Nun. Non linear love songs billow through the garden
of time, stirring the mammalian heart with portents of the descent into Underworlds of coincidental silence.
Hypnotized flesh commingles with rusted nails and basilisk souls. A lion contemplates the Lord prayer.
The electron field swells into a Saint fist clutching an umbrella in an eyebrow of sugar soaked monsoons.
The Queen of Unasked questions churns her chariot on the galloping heartbeat of yesterdays unfinished breaths.
The laughter of sadness, trilling in blue notes augmented by tropical hums, stirs the human brain into a minuet
of electromagnetic bewilderment, leaving the ghost of her love to drown in the absence of mystery.
Algorithms of insanity struggle on the empirical shore. Two anonymous beings unite like flowers of unholy dissonance,
each vibrating howl of their undying majesty recombining in a moment of transcendental fiction.
Love screams primordal sexual heresies.
Green whispers strange purple in the white gold of a neverending yellow.
The palm of the rose is pierced with diabolic stigmata. Cherub's mouths open into the
cavernous ecosystems of Hell. Pollens drift on Leonardo da Vinci's halitosis.
Life paints by numbers on canvasses of immaculate probability. Flames transform the star gravid ovaries
into world lines thick with human skin that surrender their empty form to the madness of Zen.
Languages migrate like epileptic birds.
Patterns of infinity scrawl skeletal manifestos in the skull gathering dawn. True opposites are
reconciled. The book of the angels is laced like God's tongue on the skin of dream soaked lilies.
The ten thousand Pantheons of heaven erupt in delirious caprice. Circles circle circles of circles. Smoky dark ether haunted
by clown making apples recoils in the codex fog of mystical Persia. A cemetery of thieves is disturbing the ghost gravity of the Bermuda triangle.
Eldritch magic churns in the crucible of heat seeking strawberries. Eyeballs are born where the rope
of Judas suicidal daydream multiplies into the nightmare of an undefinable hell. A polyphonous hum of oxygen dipped
canary wings swindles the sky into devil breath and thunder
that reminds the world of the first actual glimpse of a human eye. Rainbows sprout in the devil's bellybutton.
Waves of supernatural asceticism warp the corporeal threshold of civilizations slow plunge into the
theatre of the dadaist absurdity. A giant tongue swooshes through the circus tents of Hell. The acrobats of heaven,
bred in the sweet defiance of Ezekiel's last living word, descend in slow motion into the dust on the living room floor.
The black portrait of eternity quivers like a membrane of Charlie Chaplin shadow. Mary Magdalene stalks Christ's pantheist soul through jungles of pure synchronicity. The jungle eats itself with the green tongue of a sexual cannibal. A city burns it way into your heart.
At the edge of this city, a rainbow rubicon a single photon wide circles the tent of gypsies as they sleep.
As the baby of the Sun and the Earth crawls through the night sky, the Infant Primadonna gives birth to a thousand madmen
in the bottom of a wishing well that is as jaded by death as witches womb is blessed with frog tears. At the bottom of the well, which is symbolic of the end of time,
the walrus faced darkness blooms into apocalyptic nursery rhymes.
And the moral to the story is? There are no morals to the story.
She begs the grafitti nightmare of heaven from the stigmata of Unborn Saints. Lucifer rearranges particles of the void in a perpetuals orgasm of light.
It is raining pennies and minnows; fish faced, the clouds are trampolines of Greek mystery rites; spiraling into the stratosphere from Promethean nostrils, the troposphere swirls in iridescent swells of human soul.
The Schizoid ear, searching for the Amphibian Grail, the Chalice Prison of spiritual heresies --- sucks the name of God from the Void.
It is Halloween in the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo's paintbrush has escaped low earth orbit and is circling a cloud faced bishop in imitatio of certain Amazonian songbirds.
In sweeping strokes of chemical fury, as if Peyote was surging on a shaman's eyelids, the air around the Sistine Chapel ignites in a rainbow cruciform of time traveling halos.
A parabolic membrane as sensitive as Eve nipple skin spins around the neck of a honey and ambrosia eyed hallucination balanced just between the last atom of the Bishop's eyelid and the parabolic syzygy of the knowable Universe.
A black swan slips through a golden wedding ring; wings flutter like the bride's ego in the moment of transcendental doubt.
And in the heavy sweet ethereal sickness of a series of pregnancies that are timed to bring the collective ego
into a frothy madness of spiritual crescendoes, the woman with nine ovaries sprouts an embryo the shape of an isocahedron.
The mouth of the isocahedron opens into a stargate. A single syllable slips down through the embryos' throat, igniting the
Universal womb with the promise of a trillion unforgettable futures. Inexplicably, the embryo slips into a perfect anonymity
as if God itself had disguised the universe as a clown's mouth. The city burns with the pulse of a million hearts. In the middle
of the night, at a single moment, the pulses of the City synchronize. A forbidden cascade of human dreams unite. Frogs burp hallelujah, hallelujah, hahahahaha, hahahaha, halleluja, in the suburbs.
The events of the day begin to manifest from the fractal essence of the deep unconscious unity of perfect unrecognizable holy love.
A Chinese peasant flicks a light switch and the American dawn explodes in fireworks of sacred autopoetic
infancies.
The Catalonian prophet slips into an oysters flesh; the ocean grows disturbingly real.
It is as unfathomable as the moment during Hamlet when a certain audience, hypnotized by the Ophelia's shadow, slipped out of their seats and onto the stage, and one by one, a thousand strangers balanced in the silvery light as if Errol Flynn's holy spirit had become tangled in Mae West's imagination.
It was then that the theatre transformed into a mime's tastebuds. Silence filtered the truth as a Church filtered the obscenity of orphans. A dictionary of forgotten words, once thought long
extinct, the language of hemlock and the full moon, the scalding tongue of angels born inside pinecones, leap towards each other in symphonies of unrepeatable syllables.
The abstract woman hums a robot gurgle.
Her voice is a puzzle of meaninglessness. Her flesh reverberates with the sound of something naming itself ten years after it has died.
She begins to question the way light strikes the skin. There are holes in her eyes that lead to the ends of the Universe.
She remembers a moment when her lungs zig zagged in a scald of heretical coincidence.
Every breath was an iridescent fantasy burning mandalas of cause and effect into the event horizon of her summery butter colored skin.
Her face is unlocked, like a door that was painted shut by a black market magician. True love bloomed, in blue moods of loveless lunacy in the lagoon of her love's labia.
Genius erupts in a trillion volts of Vedic consciousness. As the joke and lie commingle in the subspace of her neurons, her lips sizzle like beef in a slaughterhouse.
Nothing is permanent. Not even impermanence.
All around her, the streets are glowing with policemen's eyes shining like branding irons burning with decimal points and question marks.
A disconsolate humanity mirrors the chasm of the material world with it's own daredevil fantasies.
Drifter's faces are scarred by historical lightning strikes. Wild dice froth down Peacock Alley. Gangster eyelids are tattooed with dollar signs.
Dragons of memory scream in holographic fog turned insane with the flesh of pigeons fluttering through clouds of carbon monoxide. The world snickers.
It is the tango of mutually assured disaster.
Screams of discarded souls spill in pools of cast iron semen.
Listen closely; here in the Western dystopia, the cosmos is distilled into jack o lanterns glowing on subways of real human suffering.
Celestial watering holes rain down with Zebra piss from gossamer skies deadened by the breath of Sinners lost in transcendental meditation.
The crocodile sleeps in the Invisible Temple of Isis. The goddess skin erupts in a field of green and golden thought angels
Alien Goddesses twist human flesh from the hoofprints of braying donkeys. Jewelry appears on the streets in tornadoes
of desperate foreshadowing. The visions of the ordinary man ignite in perilous antipathy into shattered glass and hit men's bullets that stream
Every orphan is witness to God's madness. Every infant is indelibly scarred by the presence of an unknown shadow at the moment of it's birth.
The wise men have escaped into parallels of logic and ecstasy. The night sky is coated with the probability fields of Eternal Judgment. Purple mouths devour charcoal roses.
The eyes of the dream sequence are occulted by mathematical mythologies.
Moonlight sheds the scent of a turquoise grapefruit, seething through the sky, dropping silver angels teeth onto cobblestone streets. At dawn, Queens and Kings step
down from the Towers of the chess board and sweep them clean while recanting the soliloquys of their own eternal madness.
A blue fedora hovers in broken tangerine shadows above Commerce Street. A strand of human hair slips through the evening sky, slinking above the street
like a whore's negligee. Passersby avoid my gaze. Nobody is certain where the Priests have gone. A jaded sense
of untranslatable weirdness permeates each footstep. In the corners of my eyes, I see traces of extraordinary light that burst the
room into jigsaw puzzles of heat death and symbolism.
A lock of hair bubbles up from a crack in the sidewalk. A pit bull anoints the world with drool from it's machine forged mandibles.
Tell me your real name, the eyes of the world implore. Who are you, racing through my soul?
Columns of moonlight balance on the edge of a Supermodel's skull. Spiderwebs cloak the world in deathly dew as
a world painted in negative monotones by Priests with no emotion unfurls pink flags full of diseased memories, leaving the carcasses of Nuns to die like party balloons
in a world of Absolute Revelation.
As the sun sets in a series of forbidden ecstasies, rings of gold shimmy into his girlfriends candlewick eyelashes.
The boy and the girl swallow each other's saliva under a sky shaded in chiaroscuro scarecrows of the great googolplex underworld.
Somewhere, a volcano is singing the Lover love story into the heart of a rainforest. It is the languor of extra terrestriality; the dark sensation
of being everywhere at once; nowhere really, but yet, everywhere. It is the unpredictability of the divine madness. The magic
of the Sephiroth fluttering from cell to cell in the human belly. She is Europe, Asia, Africa; Gondwanaland bathed in radioactive luminescence.
America reminds him of his frozen heart. The footsteps of fairies plants runes on the Liar tongue.
Creation oozes from the pores of her electrode spiked skin. Micro- gazelles leap through her blood stream.
The sphinx glows with subatomic kundalini in the subspace between the field of consciousness and the void. Electromagnetic frequencies trip the dandelion
fever of their love story, which will never end, never begin, doesn't even exist. A meteor of fuzzy logic lemurs shoots through the white page of their inevitable tragedy.
Thunderbolts cascade through their jewel flavored abdomens. Their eyes glow in serpentine venom and the wisdom of the book of Genesis.
The earth is cooked into an orgasmic heat death.
She brings the Green flame to rest on her child's spinal column. Rivers of salvation course towards the poet's gravestones.
In that instant, the glance of immortality passes from one eye to the other. It is the fascination of the Alpha and the Omega;
roots of oak trees plunging into antelope ovaries, a cloud exhaling the glass face of a wooden skyscraper. A thousand recursive moments deep in her bloodstained heart,
the teardrops of a snow leopard are falling in Monsoons of imaginary scripture into the dream of McLeod Ganj, poised somewhere
in the Dalai Lama's first moment of unending clarity.
The creature with a trillion filaments exploding in her uterus begins to paint her toenails in golden green thought apples.
Moment by moment, their mammalian navels ignite with the mirror image of the void. Imperfection races toward them at the speed of a million minuets
a minute. The faces of the resurrection flood their union in day glow fossils. The fool's skin blooms with fantasies of the Apocalypse.
It is unexpected. It is the life of the undying dead. The memory of forgotten moments balanced on a fulcrum of complete and total
impossibility. The Grandfather Paradox unleashes a psychedelic nerve gas in Andy Warhol's spleen. A child's voice washed in Einstein's light whitened eyebrows bristles with the magic of hedgehogs.
Marilyn Monroe goes skinny dipping with a tribe of werewolves under a bridge suspended against a pomegranate colored sky. Lou Reed walks by with a tribe of
laughing androids. The earth bleeds a maniacal language of ventriloquists whose eyes have been calibrated by black magicians.
She melts into herself; wordlessly her freckles bloom like Salvador Dali's measles. Each point in space and time converts the energy of the next
point into complete undying mystery. Thermodynamic power trips; the sensation of being eaten alive by termites with the mouths of philosopher kings.
A boomerang flies in a sky haunted by divine paranoia. The tock in the sky clocks never. Mozart's magic flute launches the world into a symphony of paranoia and hypnosis.
The sleeping nightmare of oriental flashbulbs strikes the eye like a fist full of schizophrenic hammers in the Garden of Eden. A serpent faced child falls off a deep blue crucifix. Logic
paralyzes the world into unbearable syllogisms. The dream of timeless death wishes spills from the pores on her skin.
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