Friday, May 25, 2012


If I had a Republican mind, my pursuit of happiness couldn’t end. If I had a Democratic mind, I’d still be seeking justice. With a schizoid anarchic mind, I shut my eyes and see whatever I might adopt. Its biology will seam together a multiple choice question of something else evolving something that wasn’t there before. It’s power feels kind of sexy, an orgasmic catastrophe creating a need to make more people. Their potential unity, invited by the chasm in her flesh, will make them come. Flooding the cornfield, Old Muddy soils their southbound money. The corn had better be extra corny this year, or someone else’s gonna get it.

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