YET, HER AND I DIDN’T GO DOWN THAT ROAD. She didn’t ask me if I remembered her, or talk about how we met. And I didn’t bring any of it up, either. I don’t know…maybe we knew the night was a singular one.
AND IN THE NAME OF AN UNBROKEN TRAIN RIDE, people live holding their breath. Sucking in their bellies and desires and dreams and hiding their eyes from the demons they love to watch dance.
THE TRUTH IS we are nearly completely inured to the undeveloped soul of our society, and to the crass, thuggish, bullying, immature voice our nation uses to converse with itself.
ON THE SURFACE, it would appear that LATISM is just another of the thousands of “grass-roots” start-ups trying to find its niche in American society but a deeper look is necessary for those who care for our culture and community’s health.
THERE ARE A FEW WAYS to be destroyed by a corrupt culture. One is to be snuffed out by the ongoing injustice. And another is to rise by employing that same injustice.
I AM THE HYBRID METHOD; the trip past a last grasp at a static page fast flaming engaged by rage and bliss and when we move, we move like this—
BY NOW, I have driven five gold screws into the underneath of my desk and am ready to spiral like a starfish with a vision of the sparkling shore. Warn the walkers if want to; I’m turning up the dream machine.
I AM A ONCE-FAMOUS PERSONALITY submerged in the vague, rainy, town of Eilanwurl. That’s not a real name, but neither am I a real personality. Just a vagabond; a bard of sorts. An artist, which means I’m nearly useless in Babylon.