Salty air is a constant reminder of twirling coin toss that haunts of other outcomes and storyline where the known hero perishes passing along through the tales that everyone has on the beach
being overtaken by horrid tides of cars and rubbish sucked out into the skin of the abyss of the sea presumed missing whilst all the while struggling to stay sane repeating over and over a narrative that life went on into
daily life of the aftermath and all health effects in between trying with utmost balls to save everyone he could
as he did all along
with invention of said reality births the grinding days of corporate sodomy including the gimp suit and it’s a job mentality festering off to the side as he pains himself through sickness
fucking cowardly staying afloat with all the jellyfish,seaweed and krill like a suited shill would
would it better to have drowned in the initial tidal surge being johhny flash getting a statue of him put somewhere for neoyuppies can walk their puggles?
or is this all the aftermath

I asked for a coffe

Words get lost in the conversation ditches by the worn roadside benches
things awkward enough struggling to find the right sentences to convey exactly what is needing to be said
context out the window as emotions are contextually dyslexic and shattered as your Nanas’ fine china
tongue stumbling over the lost dictionary of the brain even if it was read aloud it would be gibberish
adjectives bursting in flames morphing into verbs with no clarity
all words lost from the intro

Caruso in Jade

There are colours passed the jaded faces of believers in D.boone
knassy knoll
kentucky blue grass green and no sign of a second shooter
mossy and scratchy like the Moss Man action figure
stumbling darker to emerald leafy pastures of
guilt tripped mint
the original quarry
boulders unfinished by the grinding of a earth tumbling or a shiny scrub
only echoing karaoke voices of Woody Guthrie,HR and Jim Carrol
Phil Ochs reading to the shabby stones
polishing them as past jaded as they were passed over
rocks deeper jade than racing green
jagged edges higher with a more abysmal color there’s a shadow
It is Joe Strummer blowing smoke to the moon laughing
Yelling in a soulful stern


IBM’s “Smart Surveillance System” – Liner Notes Intro

Originally posted on Kenneth Lipp:

I’m going to explore here revelations published elsewhere, in detail that was duly blue-penciled into oblivion by able editors. This is a first introductory post and concerns the acquisition the revelatory information, its general nature, and some hints at specific content and future publication plans.

In the course of what for me is routine mining of the internet for choice key terms, using some custom Google queries, I happened upon a server belonging to an IBM researcher working on the company’s Smart Surveillance System project, AKA “SSS” and “S3.” This server contained among other documentation the SSS deployments in several cities across the United States, including Boston, Chicago, New York City, as well as for various private and public agencies. It also included notes for deployments in locations outside the US (OCONUS), such as Pakistan, Israel, and Saudi Arabia. The story of the server itself and its owner is developing…

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And they shuffled him to the back of the 6th year classroom where they kept the bathrooms and coats were kept.
the students could not see me only the teacher when she walked side to side or to come quell
what I was speaking loud to answer proper of the topic.
Unseen and unheard was the student but he could hear enough of the teachers coarse voice of theology.
3 years in the back of the class
Absorbing Yeats,Whitman,Bukowski and Kafka like a sponge
Learning more from St.Joe Strummer Jello,Bob Mould and D,Boone as so called education was being fed to me through a veil of incompetence
Reading heavy theology for answers with Black Flag hiding in his ear
Gestas and Dismas were crucified next to the big JC but it was My War that was bouncing around his brain
Suspended from school for reading Dr Strangelove and the Torah
KRS One teaching in the walkmen with Woody Guthrie
just one of many kids raised to see the writing on the wall as it happens
the prophets of the folk gospel sang it loud so the
punks knew it then and now as they see it unfold now worse than any outdated lyrics book
just change the names
history is ours set to the beat of the human heart hungry for the love of fairness
your own history is as important as any because it is yours

He learned more from the truthful raw guitar than in any school

And punk rock saved his life

To Who it May Concern #229

To Whom it may or may even stumble into your yard,

So I laughed as butter knife would at the universe again as it glanced over with the look you give a snidey little fuck as he flips you the bird,I was not going to listen to anything that had to be
or coarsely thrown in my direction
“We can not keep this affair going on much longer,it’s unhealthy for me mentally and taking it’s toll on my body”
Universe gazed at clouds and pretended I was speaking nonsense when in fact it was was proper gibberish of the
highest extent that I am well known for
“It’s a stalemate as of now and you can keep your relationship status as batshit complicated,I promise not to speak on it or you poorly..clearly you will win in the end.”
Orion’s belt lit up with the hope in her cosmos eyes knowing this was a soiid truth
“May brain runs rampant through you on a constant basis that we both know I can not shut off the revolving door of word riddled thought and I thank you for letting me to continue to do that”

That guy again