Electric Element

Please keep it to yourself.

The outrage and opinions.

This is the Social Outcast System.

Welcome back for a return engagement.
They got numbers, they got taste.
Miles is using the silence.
Like a sillouette, the outline decides.
Love is love.
Affections and passions and obsessions.
However it evolves.

The end is already confirmed.
This fleeting space of time is free willing.
And free wheeling!
The tracks can be popped at any time.
We are speeding along, rushing.
Mechanically, breakdowns will occur.
Even with regular maintenance they occur.
The engineers are worthless.
They can only operate.
The mechanics must be summoned.
Wake them, whatever it takes.
Bring the light over, it is dark.
The sky is space all over.
Very clear, due to early rains.

Tomorrow might arrive.
It would be another miracle.
Like every breath taken.
Like everything seen.
Or heard, or felt.
The big bang is not a sufficient explanation.
Evolution alone indicates intelligence.

The dumb remain the same.
Static, airless, stale.
The evil become monsters.
Imposers and imposters.
The chicken live in caves.
Nomads, always running away.
The sad have given up.
Frowns and moans and wasting time.

It is a chemical condition.
An imbalance in the brain.
The leveling begins with water.
Pure as possible.
The most electric element of all.

Deleted

Made many words that were deleted.  

Gone, every letter and all the lines.

Too true, too sad, just too much.

Shout to the happy and feel.

See their smiles shine.

Caught a big mess.

Know my rights.

And my lies.

Crimes.

Those Old Ways (American Fans)

Was nothing 'round here.
There was no shops or lots.
But we got nothing to fear.
New thoughts and robots.

Back roads still the same.
Lord knows I'm still to blame.
Those old days, those old ways.
Toss them all in the flames.

Cause its all gonna change.
Boats will dive, cars will fly.
And its all pre-arranged.
Our tribal vibe of light.

Oh, the days of the Walkman.
We were all American fans.
Those old days, those old ways.
This land is our land.

E
A
E
BaE

Splash Art

Story of life.
No win situations and refusals.
Back ain't got.
Manipulations of later accounts.
Less and less.
Respectable and free as possible.
Ghost writers.
Flying high with speeding words.
Perfectly sane.
Loving the crazy and the normal.
Unattended to.
Only conditional conditions exist.
Truth or dare.
Twist and shout for the get down.
Disco is real.
Outrageous myth of the good life.
Hippie eyes.
Occupying thoughts with activity.
Watch the glow.
Those mustangs have held up nice.
Splash art.
The roads are old and broken here.
Orange zones.
Lake Carolyn is surrounded by lives.

Float The Blue

The Mandalay babes were tucked in the dark luxurious room, beauty rest is at it's most powerful on Saturday mornings.  After a night of being somewhere else, after a night of long talks about things only sisters and mothers should talk about.  Combined, they know it all, everything there is to know.

The controlled emotions of competition, finding the weak spots, climbing out of holes, gasping for calm, a faint vulgarity.  Caught up and hung around like a straggler, went deuce juice to get back in it.  Made my mark with the service shot, snapped and curving.  To have victory, to compete successfully, even barely.  It is the shit.

Float the blue, let it carry you away.  Sad eyed woman turned happy eyed, regal posture, dignified and accomplished.  Portugal will need to score early.  The Uraguans will panic.  The cost of losing is practically a death of sorts.  Failure hasn't been considered, they have been told of their own greatness.  To lose is to be surprised, devastated.  Portugal must score early.

At the end of the road, looping tunes of real scenarios.  Lonely horn solos.  Tossed away to the Goodwill, heart a mess, wondering what happened to the dinosaurs.  Just blood and bones, the late night show in Oak Cliff.  Might be the last we see of him, but probably not.  Lake Michigan is too cold in the winter.  More to dig around here.  Good thing the law will be around.

Superiority Complex

...the sturdy and nervous Germans were everywhere...surely the Sweeeeds felt their insistence...the rights of the European thugs...with their superiority complex...

...the Benz and the Beemer...master mechanics, evidently...my affinities, and loyalties, are with Japanese...this Mockingbird Station scene...

*******************

...to Trinity Hall...the flowing flags, the striking colors, the corridors...obstructed sight lines and standers...they used to make telephones near here...

...during the wars...that gal never missed a day...Nila, the great matriarch...walked over from Highland Park...

********************

...across the North to South highway...penalties are killers...shoulda played it clean...the hooking kick to the far upper corner of the net and the crowd errupts...

...hugs and fives and bumps and wows...the 2 o'clock beers were wearing thin...some fish and chips...water does the trick...

********************

...a delay to acclimate...the Texicans would have a team in this thing...the Texicans would probably win it all...the cup of the world, baby...

Karmatical

Like a skeleton or a frame, built upon.
Decorated with colors and jewels and jazz.

Notice existence, it is all around.
Here to be discovered.

Relationships form from curiosity.
Maintained by considerations and love.

And love is kind.
And patient.
And many other things, humble and gentle.
Soft, without edges, smoothed over time.
Until it becomes constant and eternal.

From some cosmic place.
Floats around between all of us, ready.

The get down is our obsession.
Quick pops that move and describe.
Images of nirvana.
Knowingly unattainable and unreal.

The mind gets involved.
Its rationality deciding or not deciding.
The body can be tamed.

Complications and woe are karmatical.