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Brinesanity – an abide jar, filled with all the fuqs given.

By

Stailing the open seize.

Digits flailing softly reminding us. Lest we forget. This is chum. Tower over it. Pulse.

Digits flailing softly reminding us. Lest we forget. This is chum. Tower over it. Pulse.

Stay lifted on life.
“The right one never comes off.”

Seeing it, embracing it.
Skin sailing on wind.

Bone stails.

Waves become whores wishing to drown
with you by the boundless sea.
Hide your gin, hydrogen.

Flesh gulls begin to peck at your cheek,
neck gristle shines.
Salted air.

Rotunda knuckles crash to the misted sheets.
Wood, resisting flesh.

Chalk, filaments and fibres melt in the heat.
Jaws cracking calcium peanuts.
Divine peanuts.
Banged big peanuts.

Oral peanuts.
Chomp the big heels of life.

Those stilettos will prevent your tongue.
It wishes to sail.
Expose your inner genius.

Have faith.
Few have the ability to do it.

To fully understand how to wield it.
The bone stail.

Hold it firmly.
Place your tongue on the table.
Drop the blunt.
Stail.
Repeat into the tool as part of the whole.

Remove guts after the seizure has stopped.

Fluids are always.
Looking.
Particles – to float, indeed.
Grasping.
Solid just stands.

Over the mess of chum.
Not possible.

It must be in the chum.
The chum must want sum.

But stand, and count.

Then let us dance.
Icarus is here tonight.
One night only.
It is a hot show.
Cannibals and witches,
stand up Stantastic’s,
genital mollusks, Zeiss flies.
Snowflake moths.

Look at the guts.
Make yourself happier, feel the prick.
The sting.
The leather whip tail of a radish,
bound and sutured to the sights you see.
Feel, read.
Up and ebbed, flown over a nest.

Shame they always think of cuckoo nests.
In that highway, that trove of concrete.

The books must be dry when we quote them.

That is what they want, so give in.

Painted the walls with olives,
my cave.
Gorgeous dolmadaglite.
Heavy as fuck.
Shiny, clean.
Scratch my back on that point there.
See?
On this boat.
In the open seize.

Just you and me.
Where do you want to install your stail?
Quick, they are coming.

“Can we sail?”

I was hoping you would never ask.
I just don’t know.
We can try.

Poetry walked the moon first.

*abide*

By

The ultimate compliment

It will be the one that comes in the simplest form, and in fact is made that with the affirmation that you have enriched someones life.

You have left them better than you found them, and the heart of the matter this is that this simple present is not mine to have discovered, but rather the one I uncovered in my life and it was but a grain on the beach you all were part of.

It may sound like one fucked equation, but the integers, they were there with me, and the four years almost I have been around her, I have seen many that are part of the half the number of the Beast that is.

It was a small gift that did this today, and this is my gift to the ones that abiden even in the chastisicity that can be a board, you have been part of this.

So I thank you, and welcome you with open arms, only tenticles until you have been part of the ink.

My one real hope, is you all really give no shit about the haters, or the one’s in the gulch.

Do you not see all of them?

Them in the other gulch?

Wave, and stand tall, if you have made your life any better…do not be the cunt that eats two gyros for lunch and order water to flush out the garlic you just consumed in whatever the fuck you ate…your ass is that fat, and blaming the bag of honey roasted, sugar dripped peanuts you just ate is as futile as wondering how the fuck the corn in your life got chock full of corn…it just is, and you made it so.

The best part is that I appreciate the good, the bad, and the ugly cause the flickers on the screen are different unless all three parts appear.

So to you who have appeared, in all of you glory.

Welcome to the “whole”.

Not so bad if you are a fox in it, and you can find joy in being in it.

This is a taint grenade.
Pull the pin, grin.
Sin.

It is only such if you are a contrarian.

Me, I am the Greek boy who had dinner with his mom, to tell her how much she means to me on this, a glorious day in my year.

My saints day was the 21st, but then again, I have nothing to hide about failing to meet the qualifications of say’nt so.

It was Heleni that bore him, raised him and shaped him to what he is today.

It was really her that allowed me to become a man in this world, and for that, I am beyond pleased.

Thanks Joe, it was a great part of the day, a great part of the year. A great part of life. Yalc, blessings…ltb?

Just about how you look at it.

May our lives be richer for it all, but only if we are open to it.

I am.
That is why I have the smoking gun in my hand.

Look for the number of the beast halved, just add the fourth dimension because it be no digit, it be your dimension.

So walk it.

Smile with, fuck off with, kill…but enjoy it, cause that is what being human is all about…of course I would not know.

Afterall, I am just a piece of stinky cheese.

*abide*