Birthday Jubilee

Step Out of the Shadows and into the Limelight

A walk in the park becomes an Interplanetary slog through the miasma of grief, sorrow, pain, fear, panic, anxiety that tied knots in my lungs keeping my breathe hostage from sunlight, daylight, passage, freedom….A Faint towards the portal…………

Shade the Morphing Manster has come to claim my soul…..

Recumbent pathos reaches out a gnarly hand……

When You’re Strange????

Pigment is the Intimacy of Blood Roots and Stones

Blue-bloodied Ascots Scions of Trust Fund Fed Idle Rich who possess the wealth of questionable morals lacking values disregard of human rights all whilst illegally smuggling two foot human cargo into the Land of the Free for immoral entertainments.

There are No Faces merely interpretations. They are the sacrificial scapegoat Lambs.

Erase the Tart and begin again.

I Have Loved Thrown Stones for they became my Salvation.

The Red Queen gave the White Queen a choice she could not deny.

Scumbling Scuttlebutt. Radial solid wood sculptures cracking and breathing. Crackling perpendicular to tree ring growth.

Expand. Contract.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Crepey flaky pale skin. She had ingrown pastels that reflected Light.

Kilroy was here. I just saw him at the Blackjack table a few minutes ago. He was with a Snazzy British Jukebox. Short on Memory. Long on Selection.

FOR HALLOWEEN

Fallen Cinders

Don’t know if there were other beings. So far no one I’ve queried has dyed-in-the-wool knowledge of their existence.

The Doors – People Are Strange

https://youtu.be/-DTj_KLqp_s

Measuring about 4’8” they had gray-green eyes and a snarled mess of teal blue hair that fell from their heads to their ankles. A race of Cousin Its who had escaped from the Addams Family and mated with Smurfette. Every so often there would be a great divide within these walking haystacks when tentacles would emerge, grasp the being nearest to them all the while emitting spores that enabled them to engage in a type of conjugal bliss harmonizing their universe and populating future cosmos. Egg donors pushed out womb offerings for the spores’ consummation.

You must allow the bed to take you. It’s the only way. Pollination. Germination. Fruit. Appendages.

Steles push up granite flowers. Stone Flowers. Stillborn. Alien stillborns cry out for vindication.

He’s just a middle-aged painted Lolita straining to call forth the waiting semen amidst a garden of extraterrestrial after-births.

The Beatles – The Fool On The Hill

https://youtu.be/wXa0MAfOsoU

Sulky gargoyles indulged in the meadow.

State bed

Date: ca. 1698

Culture: British

Medium: Wood, covered in blue silk damask

Dimensions: 12 ft. × 6 ft. 6 in. × 6 ft. (365.8 × 198.1 × 152.4 cm)

Sometimes I would watch as they chased and caught smaller humanoid beings decapitating them with a lassoed tentacle tug then planting their tiny heads as seeds with the promise of a shrunken head springtime crop during the moon’s 6^th ellipses. Tasty. Delicious. Like brussel sprouts sauteed in olive oil.

Gathering at the ceremonial castle they marched in sync howling chanting:

Babbling Bitches have me in stitches.

The Babble of the rabble gives rise to bewitches.

On and on a series of feet stampeding through Wonderland. Wheelers keeping an uneven but steady tempo.

Aristocratic corpses shimmer in glee.

A dead Mariachi Band Member dances for filthy lucre.

The Cyclist body lay crumpled between sighing posts. Mangled beyond recognition. His bike wheels spinning waiting for its riders return. He was the color of repose.