Why search for meaning?

We live in meaning

Surrounding us but not beyond

Calcified Krystle’s bathtub rings

Autocorrected my crystals

to a possessive feminine

Authority entitled to everything

Whatever it meant to me

The truth of what I see

Shares held space with

The truth of what you see

Locality and layering

Coats of paint are not a building

The foundation equality of being

Residue of everything true

The purpose of man is two:

Make more of you.

What is left of life

What did you do

It is like something

To be the crust

The husk of trust

The skin of the pudding

Herniated disks exploding

The relativistic speed of us

At the edge about to pop

Stretched to infinity

And the second thing

Is stick together

if life matters

as always or never

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All the Beauty and Beasts

Take it easy, take it, ease. I live with you. In the same world as your duodenum and your vanity and the cat on your lap. Here we sit with North Korean super villains in American Splendor, a perpetual render bar progressing to singularities, regressing towards the mean, the hipster fucks and bohemian brigands, politicians and instagram following sycophants, the coalition of willingness to deceive what uncommon decency, gaslight the railroad run in wallpaper patterns with swollen social vesicles, reactionary compound chemicals. Nothing is what it seems in our alternate realities, subjective interpretation of impersonation in this our most lucid of dreams.

I want to die for you it’s just taking me awhile. You can’t rush a sacrifice, the path is suffering, the path is sorrow, the path is winding through rivers of time ever in tomorrow’s past and yesterday’s schedule, nights where you wake up screaming, dawning light from under the doorway streaming Netflix, steaming veggies in your pjs, vaporizing a heavy CBD Sativa, the Spiritual Leader, Grey Bearded Singer, Dock Hand, Sinners and Saints all the same thing, a blue dot in a sunbeam, a microscopic menagerie of wise mammalian ancestry, life on earth’s rapids river, species ripples flowing over each other in woven textures, we only look different by some small percentage, but the difference matters. It all matters. It’s all matter. 

So smoke a couple joints, think for a minute, father your strength and mother your harmony, we’re only learning, we only know by doing, writing to read our minds, encountering the new crime in novels, the friendships the heartache the tantrums and fits we throw when life chucks us a what the fuck moment and so on we go to the stars; a nonesuch never before seen Pluto, a Kuiper Belt in psychic judo straddle the event horizon as it melts into a chocolate and vanilla swirl of arms akimbo in the constellation Limbo.