15 layer meal

Some popular ingredients.
Some obscure references.

All intentional.
So epic it scared me.

If you read it one way, it's heartbreaking.
If you read it another way, it's something else all together.
And it goes on.

Tone, rhythm and structure have all been toyed with.
Mercilessly.

How many layers can you eat? Let alone digest?

Bon appetit.

Sorry, regular diners. Dessert illa.
________________________________________________________________

Blood is the Brave New Black
(rewriting His story)

black faces in white squares
Unhinge
Again
And look at me.
Ineffabliss.

Enough of this
Opiate of the masses.
You forget so easy, Mr. Blair.
I just might Chuckmate you.
But what's the fun of that?

A crucifixion is nothing without a good audience
And a great PR agent.

If you keep castling
We'll always know where the king is hiding.

Say, fellow droogs.

Let's pay the queen
a
nice
quiet visit.


In God we trust to save the Queen.
And yet Freddie says, relax.
The world still turns.

Run, Lassie, run.
Go and tell the king that the sky is falling in.

See the Wall?
i
t
t
e
e
ters e.


Take a long bread th.

:{ There is SO MUCH to say :'(

.
.
.

_
_
_

.
.
.

Why Samuel, how dashing.
That said it all.


Call me Ishmael.


Knock Knock

Who's there

Doubt

Doubt who?

Nevermind.

Nevermind?

Nirvana.


I laugh until my head comes off.


Ashtunalee.
Do you know any other words?
Just read my lips.
Did she just say br*tney on live TV?
Oops. Do the chicken dance.
(Did you see that Cock's reaction? )

Now
Dance little tin goddess, dance.
Then
Shamble, dahling, shamble.
The sun will set very, very soon
And Cinderella has to be home before twelve.

Time never passes.
It always gives us the right answer.

And yet.
It's still there, isn't it?
Do you know any other words?


I'm left holding my breath till A'm-a-gettin

Bluesy.

Yes.

It moves me.

Then I'm grey.

As if by chance.



Yet.
It still merits the question


Do.
Or do you not
know any other words?

And all that jazz

?

Finally.
After much histrionics in a glass house.
A quavering note stumbles past the threshold.

_
.

.
_

I thought so.

Onward, brave Ulysses!
We ride tonight on ghost horses!
Soon, your sunflower seeds will Bloom
If you catch that erudite Zero
Shouting binary in the street.

But.
If I go crazy,
Will they still call me Superman?

Peace, beaver.
Unshackle yourself
From your chafing ego
And heal thyself
In 15 easy steps.

And so, discarding his baby blues
and his size 12 shoes,
Kal-El trudged south, to the Trojan king's lair,
where Frank and Edward share a common wall
paper, unlike Mondrian
and almost-Joaquin
on two wise men
engaged in an animated discussion.

“Who you Carlin a Zero, boy?
Me?
I just sleep here.
I dream of paranoid androids
dreaming of electric sheep.
Christ. You must sleep here.”

And so,
Casting caution and his briefcase to a nearby urchin in the corner
with no arms,
he settled in with a wad of 20s.
I've got 99 problems too, J
Yeah? Well, there's a brother on the corner
selling cyanide and happiness...

Yet.
He wanted answers.
Time was being quite unlike his punctual self.

In the back of his mind,
If you can make it out through the smoke
You will see how the pieces fit
(because you watched them tumble down)

STFU, u 700l, and
Start digging, Lincoln...

We're out! We've lost them!
Oh, holy Roman Empire.
Caesar, before Dorothy escapes
to the dark side of the rainbow
and ruins it for them all.

"Since it's too late
to ruin the ending
I'll just tell you
what it means instead.
(The glint in the ice gave it away.)
In 42 different ways."

Et tu, Glute?

He sometimes dreamed
That the XVIth Santa in the sky
would call him a good little boy
for keeping secrets
and perhaps,
repent
and perhaps,
relent
and send him condoms that winter solstice.


Rome was spawned in a day.

The eldest children played with fire
and built feeble walls and solid roads
For the younguns to trample over
Just as a new day broke
Thus damning Rome forever to proverbial hell.

Yes, they recorded it all in their books and Ledgers.
Mirthlessly.

There's been a hole in my pocket
for 8 long years now,
dear Lycra, dear Lycra.

"Has it?
In that brief case then,
Light a candle,
I want to see how good you look."


Oh, how Frank and Edward laughed
when the barbarian invaders
took a leaf out of the Good book
and had a paper plane war.

As it were

A plane crashed into two hedges
And their unlawful guardian, the bush
rained down an ungodly firestorm upon the poor sunflower seeds.
From a great height. A great high I ight.

"Oh, if only my irony detector worked.

Let me guess.
It detects everything but irony.

You read that thing too, huh?"

He seemed to say.
He forgot to dot his I lid.
And if he misses his 6:00 tea,
he's a kicking, squealing, higglety-pigglety.

“Quite a bit of work, Mr. Blair.
Titillate my nipples
while you make your pretty speeches.

Spare me the fancies, Nancy.
I can handle the truth.
And Sally can wait.
Dorothy was punctually late.

Well, of course
I'd like to sit around and chat.
But you were busy
being
Unconscience. “


How long exactly
has that bush been burning in the attic?
Can't you hear your babies crying?

The world needed
A spoken word hero

Whose roots

were far away
from the

bush

that he often beat around.

Meanwhile, back at the Hall of Justice!
Things were just heating up.

As the Iceberg,
he pleads and the icecube, she begs,

Now see the little piggies run.
See them scream.

See them scald their pretty pink skin.

Oh, I love the smell of death in the morning.

It puts the lotion on its skin,
Or else it gets the holy ghost again.

We're not scaremongering.
This is really happening.

!
!
!
!
!

But wait ... there's a wall?
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.

Apparently.

Roger that.

Hey, little urchin in the corner!
The world must know you have no arms!
Gather some bands to give you a hand.
And we'll sing a little ditty and maybe some pretty
young financially secure star
will whisk you far
away.

Hey, little urchin in the corner!
Stop dreaming!

Get me a pack of cards, some water and a pot.
Before
You go and tell the king that the queen is deathly flushed
When she's not.
Surely you jest, Mr. Ledger!
Actually, forget the pot.
I'm Rick James, bitch.

Still.

There's an unsubtle twist in the tale
if you read
this.

It will take you an entire lifetime
to choose an eternal life.

We've lost Zion! We've lost contact!
Peace, beaver!
The ego has landed.
Huge tonne, we have a problem.
Washington, we have a solution.

Let he who is not stoned
Be the first to sin.

“You think that's air you're breathing?
Once it registers in the ledger, it's not.
And even if you dare try it one more time,
Oops, my cheeky, cheeky Cinderella . . .
You are not the One.
Again.”

Your wisdom precedes you
Uurgh!
Right through your spine!
And as you fall,
Whilst Acknowledging Defeat
You pray to all your frakking fairygodmothers
to rewrite a future they never wrote
in the first dhaze.

Someone call Oliver Stone!
Dial 9/11!

"Paranoid Android speaking, When is your emergency?
You were right.
You were always right.
No.
I was selfish.
And hopelessly Erudite."

Klaatu barada nikto.
All your brains are belong to us.
Bow down.
Lone baby britney.
The proud Baby lon.

I'll be ready
and waiting
when you come up with an answer
Cinderella.

Spare me the fans
and don't write songs
about my songs
when I die.

As for now.
Play it again, Samuel.
I just love it when you sing.


The exit music played.
As the electric sheep walked out
and fell into
their warm, cozy beds,
and a deep, deep sleep
dreaming of dreams inside a dream.

And thus it came to be.

That when the sun had set over Troy
And the dawn would not break for another 8 years.
That the Greek gladiators ran out like fillies.
All in favor, say nay.

And swaggering
In,
still making their pretty, wheezy speeches,
they collapsed
on their precious match-winning noses
a mere rapture short of the thin red line.

Thought It. Jotted. #1

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