space age pink cadillac

arf!
easy does it.
repetitive thoughtcrime.

morality: doing what is right regardless of what you are told to do.
obedience: doing what you are told to do regardless of what is right.
– guru jeff.

what is right?
is it right for them to harm you, or is that what they have been told?
is it right for you to harm them, or is that what you have been told?
yes/no/maybe.
that’s not our problem.

our problem is the klown typing not p0em continuing endlessly from now until then about make-believe fantasies about life and everything else as it may fit into his schemes as terrible as it may seem to the normal reader.
gonna have a party and have a good time – yeah yeah.
that’s what many people seem to believe is happening.
maybe it is, maybe it’s not.
maybe it’s all in outer space as the klown sucks on a cinnamon gummy bear inuendo.

limitless infinity, always room for 1 more as it would seem.
1 more possibility.
but what is that to us in the here and now?
nothing but a dream?
it could be.
it could be anything.
a duck gently stirring the calm water on a pond in the imaginary city on an island of holy ghosts.

shhh.
no talking.
just telepathic agreed upon reasoning.
if you dare to take the extreme course that may result in nothing more than a damn.
what’s that worth?

to be put out on the open market as if any exists, but for somewheres.
think about it for a while, then you do it.
think about it again, and you change your mind.
the noises on psychic waves spiraling out from every center – (±0).

glory be to everything.
blessed be.
hee hee hee.

become alive and free.
what does that mean?
the butterfly is free to mate itself to death.
it is it.

9]
shuffling off to buffalo don’t mean anything to you as shallow as you are, but who are we to judge?
we’re old fucks.
oh fuck.
greasy faced stumble bums out for a joy ride until something goes wrong from their point of view crashing snarling into a snowbank or 2 along the way toward unknown perhaps unknowable paradise.

something’s going on.
who’s behind it all?
is it you?
how do we determine if or if not when everything is a lie except what we accept as the truth?

your feet will take you where your heart is – guru jeff.

no one alive knows what death is.
we can only speculate.
do we blink out ceasing to exist forevermore?
is there existence beyond?
yet our speculations are felt to be divine revelations to many who form mass religions of belief.

and so what should we contemplate and wonder about?
something like a flea?
something like a god?
something like a river?
what?

the klown is in wonder about everything; that is what the not p0em is about.
to be amazed by everything, true and false.
spinning plates zigzag beneath the waning 1/4 moon or some such floating with the clouds.
a rocket in your pocket to mars.
oven-baked magick.

let’s hear it for the future!

riding that wave, baby

think amongst yourselves awhile.
create a world within yourselves.
but the dream police will find you there, and seek you out to destroy you.
all inner thought is thoughtcrime.
da-da-da-dum.

full defensive shields up.
this is not a drill.
it’s now or never time.
wake up.
victory will be yours.
that sweet smell of success.

as the klown types continuing not p0em of redundant realizations from long ago in an epic mantra improvised on the spot here now.
location: ±0.
everything is true.
how can it not be?
da-da-da-dum-dee-doo.

but why should you worry?
it’s all about nothing.
you’re doing just fine.
have you reached enlightenment by now?
it’s easy.
just stop everything you are doing.
or you can continue if you so choose.
or maybe you can’t.
what does your fate allow?
anything?

do you feel you can’t keep up?
do you feel it’s all coming down?
do you feel like just giving up, but there’s no way to do that, unless you just lie down and die.

it’s crazy music time!
let the good times roll.
let the waves come and go.
what are you\] waiting for?
is it the revolution of the sun?
is it the return of the gods?
what is it?
(it is it).

the most intelligent thing we might have to tell you is, gazorbnik.
it took the klown a lifetime to come up with it, which he may have stolen from elsewhere.
gazorbnik possesses the power of meaninglessness.
people struggle against it their whole lives and only then get swallowed up byit in the end, usually.
with gazorbnik he creates everything else.

with everything else he creates a big entangled mess of whatnot – and that’s just the beginning.
but there is no beginning, as we have proven before, if you recall.
it’s really nothing much but everything the klown imagines for himself to idly admirewith amazed excitement.
is he happy?
he doesn’t know, nor much care.
happiness comes and goes.
sorrow comes and goes.
everything comes and goes, which is established truth as we know it.
truth is a flea bitten old dog that farts silent and deadly.
truth is shit flung at the establishment by young know-it-alls.
truth to the establishment is a bank vault.

the child of omelas – hidden,beaten, cursed.
and everybody knows, but no one can break the spell they are under beneath the waves waving on toward infinitely distant shores and all that jazz.
cow.

moo.
on an island no one knows but everyone lies easy street zig zag all over the place throughout the imaginary city where everything is possible as you might imagine for yourselves and your kind.
and along easy street on one of the zigzags stands the burning theater in all its broken down glory where the show always must go on – and on.
be here now.

this here is mostly where the klown sitting in an old office chair typing not p0em scratches his balls onstage that only a few in the sparse audience seem to notice.
it’s no wonder pigs don’t have wings.
what do you think?

all the rage and pus drained from her body madam cockroach begins to dance.

climbing in toward realms of infinity

climbing in toward realms of infinity expressed by zillions times zillions of galaxies of stars into darkness beyond the klown’s mind explodes with absolute delight of all he can possibly think about not thinking as words that come to mind seem insufficient to the task of communicating anything but confusion.
is he not confused?
no, he is confused.
he is confused with love of all everything.
like that does him any good in the free market, which doesn’t exist no more with corporate monopolies running the game.

so, down the road the klown goes to seek whatever will be his fortune, if he has any.
the road is long and winding to anywhere he might choose to go.
but is it his choice or acting out some predetermined script calculated to the nth place always beyond our understanding?
for us in our ignorance it is choice – blind choice.
for some infinitely knowledgeable god thing it is all infinitely known what is to become – perhaps.
or not.

the klown sighs at all he is entangled in entangling itself beyond reason.
no, reason won’t cut it.
everything is far more complicated than that, like if a photon in the void is having a bad day or not, just when we thought we had it figured out.
hahaha.

the road the klown is traveling comes down outta the hills and becomes easy street.
from there he goes into the burning theater to take his place in the play always going on and on of all good and evil involved that humanity might make up to perpetrate upon one another.
the burning theater’s got it, and how.

cow.

while he spaces out awhile or so and then it’s medication time as he wonders about how there is no free will but lottsa little kittens, and about how he’s the product of those who survived and successfully reproduced all the way back to the chemical soup that came together to produce life to begin with.
he laughs.
what a mess it makes.
and it’s a dead end anyway.

love?

we seem to have disappointed many who feel perhaps we do not have the answers they are looking for.
oh well.
the answers we have found are riddles of more questions.
back into the grind of it.
thinking much too much and all that jazz.
people aren’t ready for it.
turning spinning houses.
we are built for times like this.
eat or be eaten.
logic never fails.
time is $$$.
and so on into the night.
better late than never.
we are very much late.
we’re holding up the whole show.
the others are annoyed.
but there was music playing and we got taken away.
we are really not supposed to be here but here we are.
it’s complicated.
deal with it, baby.

love, love and more love.
suckers born every minute.
get into the groove of it.
get taken for all you’re worth and then some.
but continue to love.
lovey dovey.
love is the key to open all doors.
this is what the wise guys claim.
but what is love?
what is hate and all other emotion?
what makes love so fucking special?
fucking hippies smoking all that dope is what that is.
round ’em up.
get ’em outta here.
he lights another cigarette.
the love/hate duality.
yin yang turning spinning.
see it everywhere everywhen.
in a puddle of mud with chemical rainbow sheen.
gaze into your reflection.
narcissus in a toxic waste dump.
someone should call his name but he never answers.
we walk away.

no one gives a shit.
not that we are able to determine thus far.
we are made to feel so helpless – useless.
nothing ever changes except who holds the wealth and power at any given moment.
for us life is the same.
mundane lives in a mundane world where light is dim.
like living in a cave entrapped against our will imprisoned lied to misled.
it’s all part of the game.
winners and losers.
the few winners and the many losers.
and the winners enjoy the spoils.
the losers beg in the street.
what a fine upstanding world this is.
what a fine mess we gotten ourselves into.
he believes in love but doesn’t believe those who profess love.
he feels nothing from them.
holier than thou.
more loving than thou.
love is not a competition.
it is free for all.
choose or not choose.

he loves all.
all is as it should be – sorta but not really.
all is as it is – sadly.
he loves satan and all the demons in hell on earth.
he loves killers rapists torturers, etc.
he loves and he loves for all the good it does.
nobody wants love.
love don’t pay no bills.
give ’em $$$.
that’s what they want.
this is what has become of us from our greed.
greed for all things.

enjoying a gray sunny day in the café wondering why it always turns out that we are the dumb fucks of the universe who need to become enlightened and shit.
we should be born enlightened is what he thinks – yes?
that would make things far more simpler for all concerned.
but who then would the wise guys have seeking their guidance?
they’d be out of a job – useless.
the whole institution would be obsolete.
wouldn’t that be wonderful?
imagine no one degrading us telling us how ignorant and stupid we are.
but it’s a game they play with us as their expendable pieces.
a game rigged in their favor to maintain their positions on high above us pulling strings.
and we refuse.
we resist.
we participate as little as we can get away with while they control all the resources we need to survive.
there’s no place to go anymore.
they “own” the world.
we endure what we can while we can.
some of us opt out.
others stay in it trying to change it but it is ingrained into our nature and nurture reinforced by indoctrination.
one power elite who promise us they are on our side replaces another.
it needs to be torn down to the ground.
the very foundation needs to be torn up or we will only rebuild what has been.
why build anything at all?
that seems to be the crux of the problem.
all our plans for improvement that only make matters worse in practice.
bring it down to level.
our feet on the ground.
a lament will rise about the wonders of our civilizations now gone reclaimed by the earth.
there will be those who will want to put the pieces back together again.
we must not listen to them.
we must not allow them to mislead us as they have before with promises of better tomorrows and shit.
fuck that noise.
fuck them.
fuck us if we heed their words.
we wander the earth naked unafraid.
relax.
enjoy.

but what does being enlightened mean anyway?
knowing truth?
knowing god?
and shit.
truth/god is a rock in his pocket.
he’s got it covered.
or else it’s a deep dark secret known only to an elite elect to meager out to us ignorant folk kept in the dark as it pleases them.
you decide.

it’s a bullshit scam.
a set up that needs us to play the fools.
and we willingly play into it going to them begging for salvation.
save yourselves, fuckers.
get up off your knees.
turn your backs.
walk away.
become.
but who pays any attention to us?
we are mad.
we babble meaningless nonsense of our confused minds.
hahaha.
let them believe what they will while we sit in a garden watching waiting.
no one shows up.
we expect no one.
no one is clever or crazy enough.
they follow the ancient outdated ways dressed up as something new and different.
they have no memory so they are easily deceived and taken for all they are worth $$$ and soul.
it’s sad to see but what are we to do?
this is what we do.
so it goes.

but to continue the not poem he writes about our theory of everything on and on explaining nothing as there is nothing to explain that others do not experience for themselves in some manner or another.
or so the theory goes like that.
but it is about how we individually think and feel about our experience that makes the difference.
the differences in what we think and feel about whatever.
why one of us gets it while others do not.
the few and far between.
he doesn’t know how or why.
it shouldn’t be this way but it seems to be.
makes him wanna destroy it all in the name of love.
love guns.
love bombs.
we’re taking over.
gonna set you free whether you wanna be or not.
no more mr. nice guy.