In the begining...

BLOOD

O R I G I N S

Land of Lincoln birthed my amniotic sac stinkin straight ta thinkin about gettin back in the cave...
Born a slave to the idea enclave. came out the womb lackin, slackin, packin, my shack on my back'n climbin up an endless hill (never no fill-in void). Circumspect the circle.
I lived in an uncountable number of nouns. Like a verb all I did was transitive.
12 schools and 20 plus moves, got ta AZ where I learned ta bust grooves, found a little soothe/sayers of simples.
God's gods and microcosms navigated the cosmetically cosmo-patriot pollen and commenced to big ballin'.
The big ball baron bounced them beats up out the bong.
And I heard the call
....and I seen the answer written up on the bathroom stall wall, tripped out and fell for the fall. I kept movin in my nature / and growin in my stature / throwin darts at maps and movin to greener pastures. Cuz the grass is always greener...
Flagstaff, Oregon, Mendocino, Humboldt, back to Flag, then New York City...Polo doled out my dolo. Might have been there with Krooked but ended up so-low.
Lost my flower, devour/in the MRI machine when the towers toppled. Grumbled up to Maine ta get my Axis in tact. Drunk the grog, dumbed the brain, then took the dog back.
SMACK! Reality hit me hard in face. Replace the place ta save the face. I was knockin everything including the taste out my mouth. Rhetorical nonsense started makin sense to me so I set up my destiny... Lessened the severity and started investin me.
The gutteral gurgle and verbal burn makes the buttermilk mote around my mind churn with the acid-etched psychedelic cerebral cortex. Hip gnosis hexagrams and dissociative vortex. Dysfuntional implicates the functional in the tatters...Tibetan identities crystalize into my matters. And I'm still thinkin about what I'm thinkin about.
And I'm not really doin much, but the thinkin is the doin; contextually, as such. And what I'm thinkin about now is what I've been thinkin about all along, 'cept now I'm thinkin about what's going right instead of where I've gone wrong.
Though the Blood slowed to a trickle and took the Crooked path, I never coagulated completely...I kept my Axis Intact. And this Bee boy will always comeback, triangulate locality, blue curmudgeons, and yeti wax.
Time manifolds and externalizes when energy becomes fact. Its the PSI energy pyramid schemata as we stand back-ta-back-ta-back!

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