Monday, April 13, 2020
My 1st Record Review, Still in The Crib
if a band is a living thing and the beatles exemplars of that, this “let it be” is a posthumous compilation of discards from an aborted project, doctored up long after the fact by a creep. it nonetheless is the home of I’ve Got A fEeling and Dig A Pony.
(My first record review, still in the crib)
I felt for her
i felt for her like someone who had a right to might, but i knew how it would middle before it began so it never.
yet there she was, in the center of it all, the monochrome toning down the hope. In the entrance she asked for the light. I found it darkly and flipped the switch. her manner brought the absent scent to the dry ice doorway. the scene was false but this miss was almost 100% real.
Sunday, April 12, 2020
Christ Is Keeping His Shroud On
Christ is keeping His shroud on this go-around, just in case He coughs. Please follow His selfless example.
He just shed His Corona de Cristo, mind you;
knows suffering so you don't have to
k)no)w Death /
was the plan /
so stick to it .
The Son of man is up in the woods, two metres from Thomas but a good block or more from Peter. A woodland block; a woodland metric block, by Christ.
Thomas is near enough to see the wounds, yet doesn't even peek. Turns out he's the true believer, see? In the truth, in truth.
At the peak of the Levantine hilly Apostle walk, risen as He is, Christ asks of the close-knit crew in their tightly woven face coverings, "Speak freely: where is Mary? Where is the anointer?"
Having caught up, heedlessly traversing a thicket of prickly bushes, arriving needlessly adorned with clinging reminders of the teacher's agony, New World Peter says "As she is female, and not worthy of the kingdom, I gave her wayward directions. We shan't be seeing her here, Lord Jesus."
"You," said the mapped Messiah, "are unfit even to mislead. You are dumb as a rock."
"In a Word," says Mary, right beside Him. They needn't distance, living together.
He just shed His Corona de Cristo, mind you;
knows suffering so you don't have to
k)no)w Death /
was the plan /
so stick to it .
The Son of man is up in the woods, two metres from Thomas but a good block or more from Peter. A woodland block; a woodland metric block, by Christ.
Thomas is near enough to see the wounds, yet doesn't even peek. Turns out he's the true believer, see? In the truth, in truth.
At the peak of the Levantine hilly Apostle walk, risen as He is, Christ asks of the close-knit crew in their tightly woven face coverings, "Speak freely: where is Mary? Where is the anointer?"
Having caught up, heedlessly traversing a thicket of prickly bushes, arriving needlessly adorned with clinging reminders of the teacher's agony, New World Peter says "As she is female, and not worthy of the kingdom, I gave her wayward directions. We shan't be seeing her here, Lord Jesus."
"You," said the mapped Messiah, "are unfit even to mislead. You are dumb as a rock."
"In a Word," says Mary, right beside Him. They needn't distance, living together.
Saturday, April 11, 2020
Friday, April 10, 2020
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)