Write No Cliches ... Pull No Punches ... And Keep Going All Night

lithomancy trajectory

we skipped the stone; hung the tone into dialdown
seas of whitenoise bleed and feedback seeding
we are the cracked fingertips of too-long soak
we are the split tongue of divergent tastes
the bodymorph wastes of the failure of imagination
that disbelieved the pagination of the word of god
logos, corpus, spiritus; bullshit omphalos
wanking in the font for the late come saints
of yesterday in tomorrow's clothes
it flows like the guttertide choking
the blockage of autumn; those old ideas
where the feet dipped through the mirror
where the wake spoke of lift into terror
and the error translated everyday into that flavour
we forgot to savour that gifted us regularly
stowed the wings our waking shoulder blades cut
into the shape of flight, denial of gravity
stood there with the broken down wall
the surrendered barrier, the new ammunition
volition born when we make a decision

At 5:10pm on August 1st, 2008, chimmy chimmy coco puffs said…: OMG -- this is manifesto.
All i can tap in my stunned state is: this is really, FEMA-ing great.
(FEMA has taken over the word "fuck" since our deluge & mess of recovery)

At 3:46pm on August 5th, 2008, Logan Carryall said…: The culmination of the last few weeks definition written out with splendor. This is something very profound, a cure-all if you will. Love it.