All The Wrong Topics dot com

Tulsa backwards is ‘a sluT’

any-hoo… so that is done with, now what, right?…

topics through the mind meat, somewhere deep that can never be touched by human hands, but torn apart with a simple command… slipping through a streaming influx of everything such as the haze of bandwidths and wavelengths floating all around and surrounding us always, the information weighs itself, and measures out what is equal to those of us seeking with endeavoring spirit… driving like spikes, this rain, moves deeper to wash out compulsions that deem insane (demon sane) engraving the parts that teem with those same energies in a different face… the graves are growing deeper, topsoil wetter, and the privilege gets better and better… a harvested forethought like foreskin dropped to the operating floor… where is your face, my friend, did you have one all along?… tippling the light fantastic, but i’m a lady, i don’t have ‘testi-carefully-laid-out’ traps for the other folks at the institution… the massive hands, those massive fists, that strike the tables still… trying to tip the scales in a triumphant direction forward, into the plunge… we might have the impossible journey stillborn in our hands, but, goddamn-it!!!, we are good people… the teeth eat away the visions of dead eyes lurking thoughtfully, as a blackened drift turns upward, cutting away all sight outward into the open space around you… the zippered bag shudders and spins as though lowered into the chasms of neither world, but placed into a van of emergence into places with haste where things are sewn back to form together… yet, where is this fascinating syndrome i have come to feel?… tearing souls and lunging wheels which stir and whim at many gestures through which spurn a wont for shameless winds… another violent betrayal into nightshade furled, glimpsed and curled, and like shift into this world…

Thanks, khet.