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the Anti-Cop Image as projected…

the next artistic wave lies in the parable turned into a canvas-bound spirit as the words are turned into the painting or photograph as a work of integrity, but only as manipulated by the channeling force of the human hand possessed by its powers to change minds in subtle and far reaching ways only last attempted by the gods before us, we are the creatures discovered and recovering from the brink of our own service to the disruptive triggering delivered to a world unprepared for the various dark matters mingle and meld with the singular vision as progress comes with a shiver… the monster is among the many culling the herds and happenstance situations best avoided in political situations by the hand-shakers and baby-kissing foolishly and falsely appeals to the shining light inside of a human cannibal as average citizen once the shit supposedly comes down, the fecal rain like dead water poisoning land, sea and air in order to force the residents closer together for when the right bomb is built and ready to be dropped like the sky finally falling further than where the ball cannot be caught… our share of the ‘what if’s are what is to blame on being scared of our own shadowy stare as though staring right through the walls of perception without noticing doors before windows, but breaking and entering is against the law as slowly modified by Man’s cull of the herding hive mentality oblivious to the absurd as only a practical admittance is what gets one where they want to go, the general law crushes the slow in choosing those backed by the law of exception instead of the average whelp on the skids because everything else can be hopeless in accepting with care the tragedy aware of the comedy but no laughter is being used to measure the tension of the situation forcing the drama to explode into vicious smearing swipes taken at the stars in play to entertain the possibility of ‘what is’ to imprint upon the cosmic stage… a genetically centered life creeps into purview as we seem to be thinking that the only way to get anywhere good is to revamp and vulgarize the seeds of art and science as the information and technology grows from the passion to collect and align with elements in harmonious order, a bliss shattered by its ignorance in making believe the massive shit in the mouth disguised as the conscious omniscient community keeping our world our world from breaking down into baser factors taking advantageous barbarism to new extremes, but the ones left in the darkness are who we decide to call out to in order to see sight beyond the horrors we inflict upon each other by deciding any life is worth taking by any stretch of imagined authority is lewdacrisy (lewd and crass hypocrisy) made up to look like the ghost of democracy, and snake’s eyes inside a wolf’s mouth staring blindly at resting creation licking the chops at the pickings to be had with a predatory mind on the alert to some stray worth the time to capture and eat as the soul blank and inert… the sheepish instinct separated by the teeth of the most domesticated of wolves moving through the streets like they were dangerous fishes in the water, the dogs of war walking the beat while beating the street on foot down to meet the edge of law and order with the orders to kill as rioters fill these street spaces with reclaiming the justice that was clubbed to the floor over many years with the caustic diatribe televised to cover both our eyes and our ears from the excessive violence that drooling from the greedy maw of the beast hunting for fools, and reinforcing that damage and blood that lies distilled by time in tension’s grip weighted by the sequential aspect seeking out harmony while then also pushing others to trip and fall disarmed from doing anything that will seem pure or clean… the hosted myth laying in wait to crack out of the shells in our mind’s eye moving with a face-hugging urgency to overtake the jerks with a citizens’ arrest revealing the truth in our self-police state where the equalization of pressure is a necessary step in the right direction instead of the swill of needing to spill the blood of the infidel that resembles the you in me as well as the figures manipulating the economic rules in their juxtaposition of the natural truth, still serving under the banners of a dark age, and manipulated into realizing none of it…

Thanks, khet.