down with ink

Time Nothing is the infinite abyss eating its own tail consumption of time not a straight line exiting where we begin. Time created is a false shore we can never stop creating more moments we can only fill them or leave them empty. The scales of time click by in unmeasurable pulses too small or too vast even death is powerless against its venom. In Memory of Nikki A.

Schisautomaton I hear a feather falling crackling quantum shift      implosion of diametrical beauty breaking sunlight each barb infiltrating fibers of sight spinning a thousand years of deception into my temple in one psychosomatic second. Liberty, Justice, Death all three are lies each one a point on the triangle of Oppression an ever-open eye cloned into our patchwork culture feeding as much as seeing, seething with the sounds of OUR        gnashing teeth. The children become aware and give voice but the crest of the wave flatlines long before reaching shore. Tectonic shift/History ends Drowned out by Liberty, Justice, Democracy until all that can be heard are the crickets of the credits. The audience is long gone. In fact, they were never listening. The film turns into random 1’s and 0’s devoured by the cancerous mouth of the past - Rewritten. Snakes strike from calculated clouds of awareness into the neon-lit n