Collective of...

Cost-effective Rejectives, by golly

the collective has never seen this

rally point in the paths of prospective

joint collaborations in the weeds excessively skipped

through, minus the jolly. Ms. Crowley

in gumshoe garb, so I'm the note-taker,

banker on the

healing power of the slime from the

wilds speaking directly to my

lizard brain. Can't rely

on the sane, only drives cars, what in the D.M.T.

fuck is the 'lane' for?

Staying on this seven-day chore

to flex the Absurdity against stacked

neurodivergent odds.

New topic. I know a

thousand and a half, well, not right this--

see what I mean? Anyway...Focal point

in the rain, drained clouds become

temp rivers, fuck! All that east to west coast driving,

and still brought the wrong board. My Punk Rocker

deck swings like a broadsword toward

all the super strange ones that fight to be called

normies. Sneaking peaks before the sun

light scatters us roaches in purpose, instruments

of an existential surgery, scalpel sharpens with

each incision to the dog park that

branches away from former timelines. "What does 'what'

mean?

What does any of this mean? Remember,

this is the ad bumper sound bite. Hot shot

in the lab getting savvy

with the missing tool slots,

playing the new lectures on repeat, yet,

double-checking the utility belt for what-

-next curiosity will invite, bring, demand, or will

drop me in the middle of (preferred method,

honestly.) Portal consumes the garage door,

peacocks the vortex, I don't grab shit but

the nearest lighter, pocketknife, and forbidden text.

Sharpening is

the task, the flask keeps getting

left, the Talismans are growing consciousness

when provoked--SHHH, this is not a

CAVE mouth... Custom Jolly Roger type,

glows only in the smoke, absorbs the

dark--okay, it IS how it looks...

Best part is this practice is it's Daemon

approved, this 'CLASS' on The Sermons

is always further than its books.