everywhere is far

The Jansdaads are speaking with their minds only.

It won't take long, but you'll be risking your life to get there. 

I know, Jan. 

I hope you'll feel Mthyuh. 

You know i will. She'll be right there on the horizon. If i die in the hooptie, her birds will eat me. 

You know there's no guarantee you'll find what you're looking for. 

I'm looking for you Jan.

I know, Jan. I want you to come and find me. 

If i can feel Mthyuh, maybe i can break the Crack, somehow i'll understand. I'll come back and go directly to the air conditioning unit for the temporary classrooms at the Community College of Cement. I'll duck under it, hit my head, that's how some got through. 

My mind is getting tired. 

Mine too, Jan.

You can awaken safety issues

You can awaken safety issues
which had been dormant (not imaginary);
that's not the same as looking for them

Feeling unsafe is the same as being unsafe
from the environment, self, others; fear
alone could trigger accidents of nervousness

We volunteered not to strap on bombs but
walk out into the minefields so that you'd
know someone at risk because we knew

someone dead who'd gone in before us or
someone'd come in after them, but dead still;
trekkers into either world endanger one world


by Ilyn

Started calling for his dog

The next moment he was sitting up and calling
for his long-gone galgo, noble dodi al fayed.
The other animals heard it even among the
notes of hypnotic song, tiny blue lights flickring.

He was sharing a fabric or film that held
suspended the present on a grid independent
of dimension. Juniper, craven, the survivor,
who won't lie in the bed of his predecessor,

thinks of him now. "We still share the fact of
our mutual presence, configured just here,
more than we can ever prove that time is real."
Two dogs and a man sit on a plane tilted from life.

Mind as State

Memory and a human's fluids thinly planing on a concave surface, two refracting layers over what's not us but of our same dimension, at depths we are protected from by our limits, with emotions and lights.

We grant it's psychedelia, where mind is state: mind love/ mind rule/ mind the invasive host and replacement unto all horizons, a world of fright because of everything that sub-equates, unimagined, but waits.

Hooded Meatball Face

Christian Giggles

She had Peggy the way she was because the birth occurred in a Crack. Water broke on a reddish brown golf course where giggling Christian children knelt bare-kneed in the dewy Spring mash with their parents and their clubs in a prayer circle. But there was a temple. It seemed a shrine to a hooded, faceless meatball head. The goofy children were giving Sylvia a bad labor, even as she recognized their clothing from a missionary barrel back at Shivchurch. Her guide, Rajkumar, had been a Living Child Goddess, and then become a caddy, then a midwife. The caddy-midwife and Tom made a human rickshaw for Syl and her unborn and carried them into the dark opening of the shrine. All its surfaces were thick with a paste made from human spittle and sacred blossoms of the Tagetes erecta. The ridges were the giant stone elephant trunk whose waviness was deep as hilliness under trees. Peg spilled forth onto these mossy undulations. Something like disco music began to play. Her special features, the spines, scales, woofers and tweeters were like mother of pearl then.

I translate this knowledge from the daughter of Rajkumar, now a domestic I've named "Miss Sprint." It is said as well that the birth occurred in a direct trajectory between the game house of conception and Peak Fordamall Chank.

That temple was a crack as sure as the sidewalk next to the bookstore at Sylvia and Tom's community college is a crack; they know and they sticky progeny are subject to fluctuation. I know. The Pegyuh's brother was my form-shifting, all-night lover.

Dr. Donna "Donna" Thong

Hystadelic Rejoinder

Sylvia: I don't want to put away dishes with you while you're in your underwear.

Tom (turning toward her in grey boxer-briefs with a sauce pan in one hand and a rat's tail shivknife sharpener in the other): I want to open up some opportunities for you. To talk about what you saw. I know I was all wrapped up in my time experiment, and nothing registered. Not time. Not even horror.

Sylvia: Time lies, you know. It's a liar. Put on some baggy pants and we'll talk.

While waiting, Sylvia stands absentmindedly pressing what seems like her taint against the back of a faux-Rococo dining room chair. It boasts a darkly varnished hardwood patina, and it's downright cocky about its Shorn Crushed Red borganna brusquely shielding all the parts on which one might normally leave prints. Bare-flesh contact with wood, tile, lead causes Sylvia to auto-hypnotize and occasionally seizure. Even through knits, that kind of pressure triggers a not unpleasant hystadelic rejoinder.

Since that first week when Tom began trying to explain his "announcement" about his "Pax on Us" goddess coming to save the middle chanks, it had been over. Now crime was their bond. Tom's agreement with Collie was so strong, the power of his surrender so profound, that they could only dance with the beckoning animal that kept them stepping on. Tom singlemindedly distribute shivplate, stone compasses, Hopinaskipina for his corporment sponsors until his ears bled for lack of Filter of Loathing. Everything was dephallocentri-size now.

Tom: I'm back.

Sylvia (opening her eyes): Oh.

Tom: Are you calm? Why don't you sit on that for a moment.

Sylvia (lowering slowly, bracing herself on the borgana armpads): It was a bird.... It was obscene. You never believed me; no one did, and I lost my job. Now our whole county can't leave, and our essential compositions have shifted dramatically from gaseous to chemical.

[FLASHBACK: Going over the conversation in his mind, Tom recalls a strobe light of important snippets, a bucket of chicken, Patron shots. He squints, and spits. All he can see is her lips talking. What he hears makes him want to make her stop.]

"...one wing, but like a cape. You could say pleathery. White veins...

"...I thought I saw it again last week, but high up. It looked like a letter K. Going backwards. Flying with its legs spread eagle.

"Are you listening, Tom?"

Methuselah Much?

Men become less ideal as men's ideals become more.

We were history's first two inter-dimensional pen pals;

I couldn't let you seed another void across my entrails.

Each time that we meet, another desperate incantation:

As Mthyuh churns up her bones, I see your flesh in stop motion,

Breaking up under life's radiation, which is no bigot

Toward styles of bright searing light, or whatever it is you got.

Men become less ideal as men's ideals become warm.

Horror of Peggy

im really sinking
im really sinking in spirit sitting here.
im really sinking in despair, all-knowing yet
not knowing if you are there. We all used to meet up
for a Coconut Rush at Sears after school and then freak-
ishly, you grew up, but not before i flew the coop.

ante-capture, with thumb-like flippers, the spinal cord was my tail,
and i had to whip it 'round a lot to get through water,
so that's why i like saying "no" emphatic'ly shaking my head:
it reminds me of being free. If I busted through my skull, a lengthie ten-
dril would come out along behind me. That's how you'll know I was successful.

Mom

Re-Cap'm

• Reptily student of Tom, drop out to be a thug.
• Sylvia Tom wife who teach hystry.
• Sylvia spot a prehysteric raptor in a tree on campus.
• Reptily stumble into a dimensional crack near the bookstore.
• Tom and Sylvia need someone to clean up their baby's shit.
• They get Reptily cumovah after school.
• Reptily sing funny songs change the baby inside out.
• Reptily husband beat her knock her down.
• Baby Peggy roll naked in nanny blood.
• Peggy have Hoolie an Connie wit Ted.
  
• Ted a black man wit blue-eye so stud they make him a newcastr.
• Awso Ted sighburn have some whyte.
  
• Peggy beg him call her he whyte bitch, which cd keep the graft togethr.
• Ted say his woma mus respek hersef.
  
• Peggy leave Ted anda kids to lead a laifa wanton sexy raw abandon.
• Soon she a goddess an fuel her own religion back by Pharmsupply.
• The shiv make a reaction to Reptily blood so she can Know All.
• 'Cep where are the chilluns.
  
• Tom a local distribution rep, corrup, pathetic.
• Reptily kids, two son, stay home with they brutal father, a snake charmer by trade.
• Reptily get to be a holy milk maid for been the nanny of the Pegyuh.
• She start a scam with her moms to whip up th'whorshippers an pass a plate.
• They can't retire now, they slave of the temple in pertectif torcher.
• A volcano nearby, result of The Crack, take on flesh-like characeristics.
• Likewise, Pegyuh and Hoolie's blood examine by geologiss.
• Reptily (now name Chamatilly in her holy extrak) exhibit the hideous, scaly psoriasis monstruosus that cause her to resemble, when a shadow fall just so, a flying lizard.
• Connie did be normal, but now she dead. They think it was Ted, become a unabash pimp in hope of retrieve his true luf an finee make a home.
• Boaf Ted an Hoolie rilly hot.

eMANcipator

"It means something to me, yet I don't understand." Peg

Emancipator

i climb on it and ride
i don't want you to let me free

then i'm all upside down and panting
you have sprung me like a sling

Proud perp, meeked for a moment
you'll attend to other issues nau.

i can fly using my shoulder blades
once you've unhooked my skin.

i land back falling on yor face, Pops.
don't go to sleep witchor wallet so wide.

now my germ mite grow in yor wurl
or take off in a dimension wair u die.

Mkidza Mlahf

Mike had his back jammed up against a Cheap n' Simple hardytile wall. His GPS marked him as on grid and viable. He got on his walkie. "Theodore twenty," he murmured. "Theodore twenty, Ted over."

"Come in co-man," Ted drove stoically, understatedly, heartily home yet with such relief in his voice. "What's it like."

"I can tell you it's different. Funny. I feel a will, a desire. My nerves are racing. While I am aware of all that is bitter and cloying, I am circumsized from any direct impact."

"And the sexualsides?"

"I beg your pardon."

"Ok so then."

"I am not a native of this place. I can only co-exist through the most basic of commonalities: Shivweek, Chart a Planet, pet-door procreation."

"I wish you well. But you know... Your getting out. All of us will suffer less as a result-- not only you."

"If you reckon."

"I reckon your mommy was a stripper."

"Yeah. Her kids were her lahf. That's wah ah wuz bornd nekket."

Warm Green Monolith

Tom was walking down a wide empty Dhubbabera windy boulevard, his pants flapping. It was disorienting not to have to go anywhere in particular except what one had planned out for oneself, and that type was the most breakable of oaths.

So his thoughts took over. Only when he forced himself to admire the towering desert chank, blurred with a haze of spring olive verdance, did he feel that he existed as himself in that place, and in any case, that was not a pleasant thing. His mind operated as a spring this way, snapping back almost audibly after an intensive moment of pessimistic concentration before the sharply pending withdrawal. A whip. You wouldn't always want to be the object of that studied, cringing fronting off with reality.

So when a young German widow, furtive, herself disoriented, chilled by the wind in the shadow of the warm green mountain, blurted out, "Are you familiar here?" he saw the look of fright on her face and didn't want to be the cause of something like that, so he deliberately brightened up his mood, from within, allowing her innocence and vulnerability to spur on a sympathetic view of life, a view of life's delicateness, which ended up showing in his face and reassuring her.

It's back that way, he pointed. See the golden building? She'd asked him for the casino.

Then his walk continued and he did not snap immediately back into internal patter. He was crossing the shadow line on the sidewalk. Wind seemed to buffet him from all directions. There was brightness and bright color, magenta blue pink green yellow blossoms and their fragrance. As water sprang into his eyes stingingly, he imagined all of the dead who loved him standing in chorus and encouragement. But also in envy.

He felt responsible to use all of his senses, just for their sake, for a few moments longer.

21: Time is a Liar

Now wait a minute, Sylvia. I'm wearing lipstick, and you ask me if there's some special name I'd like to be called? I don't ask you that when you put on lipstick. Though I might think of you as some special name or another. With peach you are more a "Janice," with brick you are more an "Audry," and with the bluer tones, "Wendy."

They were at Ted's working on their letter-writing campaign. They felt that the Audubon Society, among many others, should know about the creature they'd been glimpsing hopping from gate to gate or just standing dumbly alongside the canals. It shared many of the characteristics of the Reddish Egret, except that those areas which would have been covered with feathers, and in the same colors, seemed to be tiled or even armored in a very hearty as well as irridescent, metallic plating. The Mthyah Preservation Society website had been down for weeks, and they weren't sure how, if at all, their reports and samples had been processed during previous migratory guest anomalies.

Envelope stuffing had allowed their conversation to drift.

Gee, you know I ran into Lourdi Spires the other day in Career Center, and it's like sometimes there's a limit before you just have to let these holier-than-thou types know that they could really go ahead and act more Christian!

Well there's remember Hoolie? Maintenance? Went around acting just like Christ and wasn't afraid to tell you so. What a dirty freak. Heretic. Stank.

God you know he could have been a shooter. Good thing that cancer he had got him off our campus at least.

"Mexican Bean Beetle"

The most likely explanation seems that by jumping, the bean will move itself into a safe place where the larva can relax, pupate and undergo the miracle of metamorphosis ready to continue the life cycle.

Please remember to kill and/or capture and report any new, mutated, or previously extinct species to the Mthyuh Guardian Society, especially if aggressive.

http://www.insectlore.com/xlorepedia_stuff/jumpingbeanmoth.html

Duck Gun Rockers, Longhairs and Pinstripe Freaks

It was quite a sight seeing their sons in tight bellbottom jeans, red patent leather platform boots and dago-t's, all their hair long as Peggy Lipton's, holding and aiming those duck guns. Their hair curled down to the tits, wadded up behind the ears where they'd pushed it back to get the earplugs in. At night they'd wander out to the garage with a beer and slug the bag or jam on their Fenders. That night Jay burst in after church and stated that he'd never be seeing Charlotte again and he felt like driving the "goat" off a cliff, and there would be others. Jay: in the exhaust, in somebody else's headlights, walking across a street, always busy setting up a scam or a bust. When the quake swarms would start, he'd seem super with it like how we's gonna go about it now is-- huh?-- we gonna save the world. You gave Jay a tallboy and a mic and you get skinny flesh and bones, flailing in the blacklight and moving and singing till he is soaking wet. He was of legal age.

Torino, however, being his father, didn't like to turn him out. He imagined the blinding golden hair coming off like butter. Rolling a young gentleman's future out before him like a colorful rubber: that anticipation made his ankles feel weak. And now it was the time.