Can you feel the fold of my hand caress your brain? Maintain, maintain, Maintain!!!... then subside. Alibis confide within this gaping hole. This gaping hole is what we call life. The world is a hole. The world as a whole knows it was you. They know it was you. No!!... was it you? I'm confused and in disarray. Truth!!! All is well if well is all. Dry up wither and purchase all that is necessary: goods and clothing, and boysenberries. Rejoice and be glad, rejoice and be mad, rejoice and unfold the crease of my hand. Tell all the land of the truth bestowed, and that all their grass must be mowed. Wave with the crease in my hand, wave goodbye. Rejoice!! Peyote shall reveal all truth, unseen, untold. She knows what size, she knows how old. Childish words and childish banter returns to sullenness and copper lanterns... ...They make lighting for the naked eye, but a nudist face knows no time, knows no size. Well is all while my hand unfolds, all is well while my hand unfolds. I'll reveal the syntax, unseen untold. Crime rates, Dow Jones, and gas prices change, but hands do not. Hands don't change, they wave... and fondle. impure. IMPURE!. Hide thy face in shame!! Your naked eyes are unsightly. Lean on your forearm, for your head is too good for the fold of your hand! Feel the shame. Feel the burn. Feel the heat as the concrete bakes vampire stakes and Frankenstein's boots. Confused but alive, alive is say, ALIVE!! Alive and well or dead and sick. For I would have to get better to die. Yet how I marvel at thy spoon. How it shines. How it dips. How it scoops!! REVELATION!!! Oh how jealous the fork must be!! Curves not prongs, CURVES NOT PRONGS!! And the days drag on into confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... Need. Feed. Concede. Confuse. Defuse. Dip and scoop, dips and scoop! Mouth loves thy spoon, fork hates thy spoon. And what of Noah's great monsoon? Head for the hills, the monsoon speaks of drowning us all! As torrential as it may be. Umbrellas and coat hangers, coat hangers and umbrellas. Nothing more, No less!!! The deeper the hole, the taller the walls. Scratch and claw, scratch and claw!! Dip and scoop!!! To be or not to be, not to be or to be. That is the answer. So confused and in such disarray. Empty the shoes, and the shoes are empty, a child is barefoot, and a spirit is free. I know not why. I know not Y! I know not, oh... I know not ewe. I know not y-o-u. I know not you!! Strangers are welcome, if you bring your own seat so you can sit on the floor, admition is free you can pay at the door, and I want nothing less, but I want nothing more!!! I start fights with the man in the mirror, I know him not, this ugly reflection. Dance and sing, tap and hum, scratch and claw, dip and scoop!!! The moon is watching your every move, and when you're standing still she is watching that too. Move move!!! you're in the way!!! roo, roo!! What does it mean, oh roo!!!! Lost in the valley of confusion, that is panned by the bridge of disarray, confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... And so it shall rain and it shall rain so. Torrential rain will give way to drowning voices. Listen as they speak. As they speak they tell truths, as they tell truths they reveal, as they reveal they maintain, as they maintain they maintain, maintain, maintain!!!... then subside. The alibis have learned to fly, and with that being said, they swam away. confused and in disarray, moloch will be my saving grace. My saving grace shall be moloch!!! I hear the cries of the cereal. Drown before thou art eaten. To be eaten is enough but to drown is unsightly, watch with thy naked eyes. Watch the spoon as it dips and scoops, as the cereal scratches and claws, and the children point and chuckle. Ha ha, I must obtain my pop's!! Coat hangers will mark the entrance to the door that's entrance is marked by umbrellas. You shall go through and there shall be a small object shaped like a square, and made of mahogany. It is a small wooden box!!! And inside the square mahogany object there will be a sign. A sign shaped like a spoon. In the room of coat hangers and umbrellas there will be a box with a spoon inside!!! REVELATION!!! Topographical maps are 2D animations of 3D animations of hole that we call life. They know it was me!!! Why must I be robbed and raped through my eyes. For it is the quickest way to my soul. They know, truth!! I know not, oh.. You. I know not I O U. I know not IOU's!!!!! Forever in debt until out of debt. Forever swimming in a sea of confusion and disarray... confusion and disarray... So shall the chimney sweeps live. Spoons can scoop ash, but ash cannot scoop spoons!!! So confused and in such disarray. Fight fire with water, lets not be so stupid anymore. Ignorance is bliss so I smile a lot. Syntax shall be revealed. Syntax shall be the keel of this boat that sinks. This boat that sinks is one of life. It's a life boat!! But this boat has no sails. And this boat has no sales, for they have no goods to distribute, so no good shall be distributed. Would you sell your child for a ticket to heaven? I once knew of a women with a ticket in hand. I once knew that women as "mother"!! Hear the call of the burrfish. If you do not know of the burrfish than how can you hear it call? Much like we hear the call of an absent god! Mush like the dogs that pull my sleigh that's pulled by reindeer. Reindeer are really caribou!!!!! Truth, REVELATION!!!! cut out the flute from the throat of the songbird, so we can no longer here his cries. Brutality, mortality, totality, vitality, reality, Truth!! Under my bed there is a picture that hangs above my bed, and it shows me the world as a paradox. So that the soul can have free access all windows should be opened at the moment of death. And all trip wires must be removed. Tainted tools of Lucifer!!! I beseech thee. I fell asleep and scraped my knees, oh how they burn in the shower!!! A small rain storm brews in the distance. A small shower brews in the distance. Bath in beer, and thy blood shall be of wine. So when it is spilled in a mortal battle, it shall be held by thy spoon. And thy spoon shall have such balance that a man of tall stature could teeter on its handle, as it points to the stars. But when he falls thy spoon shall be like an illness of biblical proportions, and crush all who have begotten the incident. And I shall watch from a tree, a mahogany tree. A mahogany tree whose leaves are that of spoons. And these spoon leaves shall fall on a nation of confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... W hen peyote bleeds her children are made moist by the crimson red droplets. And as they splash they reveal truths, and the truths are maintained, maintained, maintain!!! Then subside, into the alibis that confide within this gaping hole of lies, deceit and venereal diseases. Peyote will breath truth like fire, and we shall pray that all of our heads are set aflame, and they burn eternal. External, internal, menstrual, genital, central, ventral, prenatal, embryo, symphonic, juice and stains, chicken oriental, board, yellow, mahogany, dip...scoop. Dip and scoop!!!! As the gods speak I listen!!!, but sometimes they mumble and it's hard to understand and they use big words, BUT STILL I LISTEN!!! The birds surround me with their notes, played by the flutes in their throats. And once again it is that time, when all men are created equal, just in different brackets. Truth!!!! And in a little suburb outside of Bethlehem, a child lays down to sleep. With the nightmares at bay he still dream of the angels and devils that taunt his existence. They tug and pull, and nip and chew at his every fiber of being. Tug and pull, nip and chew, scratch and claw, tap and hum, sing and dance, dip and scoop!!!! never let someone have your reflection, so when you die it dies with you. They wouldn't understand any way, for they are a zygote in the womb of confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... Some have said that the gods are like the oceans. They ebb and flow, and corrode. But what they corrode is my mind. And my mind must withstand. And as it withstands it must maintain, maintain , maintain!!! I once knew of a man who dropped out of school, but he was ok because he wore a parachute. It may have seemed tacky at times, but you never know. Peyote knows!!!! and the hole world knows it was you. And what of this disgusting crime I've heard so much about? Such villainy, such utter disregard. Such winged beasts. Such spicy foods. Such tiny shoes that Barbie doth wear. Such big eyes the giant squid doth have. Such words that are spoken that have no relevance. Onward into the fog of confusion and disarray. But halt!!!! what foregoing attribute hath hinted of this. Hark, the wind doth change thy direction. Thy fog is lifted onto thy mountains and higher still, into the evermore!!!! thou hath been aborted by thy mother cloud. Released you are from confusion and disarray, but now you lay in thy fetal position with thy hand up on thy hip. As you dip I scoop, dip and scoop!!!! The clouds appear to morph their shape in to the home of the gods. The gods live in the sky. How doth the clouds imitate thine sky? Revelation!! Thy wind doth redirect once more, and the clouds slide back down unto our feeble heads. Your mother cloud hath once more adopted thine soul into it's bosoms. And as you suckle, you are nurtured by confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... And so the legend continues. And the plague is spread, like two fat legs in spandex. Impure!!!! what has become of this world. We pray to god to save our souls, after we pawn them to the devil for fame and fortune. I have fame and fortune... tellers. I keep them in my basement. Fame is the name of my meteorologist, and my fortune tellers name is lie. Lie!!! all lies!!! I entered into the room where the songbird made it's nest. It's nest was made out of silver. It's nest was a spoon!!! Dip and scoop thine eggs!!! Oh songbird!!! Look into the tabernacle. Peyotes image appears in the mirror. Speaks words of confusion and disarray. Much like the cacti hold water for later use, I hold images for later use. And this religious rape shall be forever burned into my memory, like a wife's bruises from an over affectionate husband. Truth!!! I have bruises form an over affectionate god. But the bludgeons and rapiers that are swung are drug induced. Peyote does peyote!!! And babbles words of anger and malice, love and honey, war and politics, crime and justice, foreigners and natives, death and destruction, birth and growth, time and space, disease and repentance, songs and chants, dips and scoops, taps and hums, song and dance, scratch and claw dip and scoop, confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... If I were told I only had 7 days to live: on day one I would give birth to a butterfly, through the womb of an insect, so that I could have a companion for my week long journey. This is when I would discover loneliness. On day two I would dig the deepest hole in front of the tallest tree, so that I would be in an equilibrium, as would everything around me. This is when I would discover intelligence. On day three I would kill three virgins, and fill the river with their blood, so that they could live eternal and never be tainted, only by my actions. This is when I would discover my own sins. On day four I will cut off my own thumbs, and place them in the small mahogany box, with the spoon. This is when I would discover necessity. On day five I will drown a humming bird in wine, so that over-sustenance exists. This is when I would discover malnutrition. On day six I will become grief stricken and find my own demise in the valley of tears, for I am no good at goodbyes. This is when I would discover anxiety. There my remains, as well as my butterfly, shall rest for all the days to come. On day seven the gods will grant me the rest of my life to live. Although I was so filled with anxiety, that the end of my life had already been found. This is when I would discover ignorance. And when the flowers begin to grow were my body once decayed, may my image live eternal and my love of juice remain. As the fog of confusion and disarray rolls into the valley of tears... As the satellites orbit, the tides ebb and the seasons change, I will maintain. Alibis confide within the basement where the old men play craps. But don't worry for they clean up after they are done. As I fold my hands I reintegrate my faith in all that is holy, and my fear in all that is porous. A deluge of lies and deceit pour forth from the mouth of the one known only as father. As the battle continues the casualties are piled up like Q-tips. Neatly in a small plastic container that holds a thousand each. Truth! The elbow does all the work, but the forearm gets the credit!!!! Such blasphemers must be disposed of, and disposed of quickly!!!! Before their truths contaminate the water supply, rather their words fill the air. As the crowd moves across the room, pew after pew, the gods know the time is near. They feel the chills of confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... What will become of this world? When all the dances are danced, all the songs are sung, all the money is spent, all the churches are burned, all the pot is smoked, all the std's are spread, all the babies are orphaned, all the coats are tacky, all the shoes have no laces, all the sinners have no regret, all the believers have no idols, all the waters have no current, all the fires have no heat, all the earth has no soil, all the sky has no air, all the trees have no canopy, all the scratches are clawed, and all the dips are scooped, dips are scooped!, dip and scoop!!!!. There will still be me, and there will still be the spirit of the free, forever left on the shelf of religion in the mahogany box, with my thumbs and thy spoon. Ready for whoever is willing. And what will become of those who are lost in the smoke of their burning hymnals. What songs of worship will they dive into now? And when will they come up for air? Only to submerge once more, truth!!! And what of the things that keep this world adrift in the sea of fraud? All the money, the hate, the freedom, the suppression, the loud voices, the soft whispers, the longest of poems, the shortest of haiku, the deepest of lies, the most shallow of personalities, the brave and the daring, the sick and the poor, the white and the black, the pimps and their whores, the drunk and the shit faced, the prude and the straight-laced, the drugged and the stoned, the young and the grown, the virgins the gay, confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... What will become of those who see the sights of my unfolding hand. As the spoon dips and scoops into their minds what shall be revealed? How often must one speak to be heard word for word. Businessmen deliver babies... In trucks! Truth!! Windows let you see where you aren't!!!! The bigger the baby, the more fuel is spent. A tank is empty and a mother is drained, truth!! Where are you as you read this spilt ink. At home? In class? What should you be doing? Thou shalt not be reading these blasphemous innuendoes and metaphors. Hide thy face in shame, yet continue your journey through confusion and disarray. Six six six is the mark of the devil, but what of the mark of the lord? The spoon is the mark of the lord!! Lost in a sea of rhyme schemes and nonsense. I remember the face of the moon whilst I sleep. And the stars are that of spoons, as I make my wish on the fallen utensils. I keep my bass in a fish tank. And my picks and my combs on the kitchen sink. The kitchen sinking into the river is one of polished counter tops, and tile floors. I awoke in a room with walls made of outside, and the roof made of sky. I walked into outside and sat down amongst the leaves that fell from the trees. I wondered if there were as many leaves on the floor, as dreams in the air. And if there were as many tears in the world as there is in the ocean. Is there as much love for one women as there is for anything else. Is there as much regret for one sin, as there is repentance for them all. Is there as much yearning for a god as is spoken of. Is there as much need for war as is fought over. Is there as much voices that are used for needs that should be exposed. Is there as much communication means as there is meaning for communication. Is our time wasted or spent wisely. Are we out of breath, or did we ever really have enough. Is there enough floor space for everyone to lay down?? For I am tired. Nap and slumber, tap and hum, sing and dance, scratch and claw, dip and scoop! As I turn tears into songs, air into breath, friend into lover, weed into tree, fist into handshake, crime into justice, and mind into machine I find true happiness. Forever buried in my casket of confusion, below the gravestone that reads disarray, confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray... Planted flower pots prancing on and on all through the streets, into the hearts of all the lookers on. they ponder the fate of garden hoes and empty window sills. their young will never know the glory of the gardening at the hill. they spread their seed and sing a song and start a cheerful chant curse my arms and curse my legs, I wish I were a plant! To spend the days in a daisy field, without a worry or a whim. my world is sweet and pure, my world is without sin. I fear not heaven or hell, or the mighty hand of Yahweh. because without a mind, I'm without a sin. But love will find it's way. a lonely soul comes in almost any shape and any size to find one in a daisy field would come as no surprise but as she lays and counts the clouds as they slowly pass her by. I envy the soul that lay by her side, and sings her lullabies. although I am a plant, surrounded by the same, I long to hear her precious lips grace my humble name. love blossoms in my field of daisies, through season, weather, and flood. this girl that lies and weeps and sighs, will never know my love. Different paths have led us together but this chance encounter I'll remember forever. because a lonely soul will not soon let go, and a daisy field is the only place that I know, where love blooms year round, ready and willing to take a chance. never doubt a daisy field, never say it can't. truth!!! Plants have feelings too. nothing so beautiful should be left behind, so I shall not leave my daisy field. Nothing so bountiful should be left behind, so I shall never abandon such writings. Nothing so breath taking should ever be left behind, so I shall never leave my juise. TRUTH!!! Rhyme and reason, poems and metaphors, flowers and love, kings and gods, virgins and bruises, voices and visions, birds and trees, death and disease, hunger and pain, anger and malice, kings and gods, worlds and peoples, drugs and alcohol, crime and religion, friends and enemies, eyes and windows, spoons and happiness, plagues and daisies, suburbs and haircuts, dancing and singing, tapping and humming, scratch and claw, dip and scoop dip and scoop!!! I shall forever be an aborted fetus in the uterus of confusion and disarray, confusion and disarray.