bewildered and confused i crawled onto the floor, not sure where i was going. grabbing on to the frills of the carpet I carried myself towards the door, down the stairs. i broke the banister I remember falling crying myself to i remember i remember its not me but someone else who was here before do you remember? do you remember? variations over time as the clock stops want to fix it but i cant find the key im in a box on a shelf two steps from the closet my grand mother use to live there but now she is gone theres a fairway and not to be seen until the man in the pointed hat bring attention to the millions and millions of displaced individual messages which are somehow still tolerated by a length of the population divided by the importance of a certain memory not very fair indeed but what to do to control the certain time of lives the nonsmoker who started for fun the certain someone who had always wanted to always be one and made everyone laugh now look at her the crawling melon that has not done something remarkable in their entire life shadows what it is and i will ask one question for the great snail of graham to resolution of desert dreams you can tell from the sweat on the lips you can tell from the fear on the sweat you can tell you can tell sweet mother to all holy tongues of this place to be confused for the times of reluctancy it has been replaced by feelings of positivity the likes of which have not been seen in nearly ten thousands years long before man was a footprint on his own existence the king of golden crowns to pharaohs to queens unbound remember remember consonant clouds victims of their own desires chasing dreaming sitting wandering hats of many colors and symbols representing symbolic excellence what a world we live in what a world what a world geometric shapes can trigger such emotions of admiration or hostility in a matter of mere seconds the world world never be the same without it because of the never ending wilderness that is chased by the lions over logs in the fog of the long wilderness it may very well be worth it though all of the memories you will have ll the thoughts you have the thought though gold is no more the days of treasure have been mismatched like a reptile that has melted on the soil of his skin in a shattered concrete statue of past and future memories remember? 3 horned heroes to kings of queens and at the feet of popularity and the dissonance will always rise a child who refuses to raise its hand the disciple of imagination is enwrapped in sugary futures and wrapped in plastic adversity to be climbing while carrying buckets of milk water choking on the fat of skim pills i remember i remember the blue circles and the long pin stretching outward reaching out for me pulling me out making sure that am okay when i haven’t drowned im gonna be new again gonna be a new boy im gonna be new again with my eyes running from side to side as i topple over spitting fluid out of a mouth composed entirely of a biological system that few people alive or dead are able to explain to someone who has a very small amount of knowledge in science it not my fault or yours just a truth in a world where science is deemed as satanic absolutism not one person reaching out to lend their helping hands of good they were cut off years ago by a world that was not expected it was negated self ignored ignorance settle me up sign me up with my eyes closed and my lips sealed i laid on back i imagined it different really not the way i had expected it i waited i didn’t know what to do perhaps if i had done things differently
Elk Minister Denver, Colorado
Elk Minister was born in a log cabin deep in the forest of the upstate region. While being raised by his mother and his Uncle Radcliffe, Elk Minister developed an affinity and love towards music, philosophy, and science. At age seven, Elk Minister was writing and recording his own songs on a homemade tape recorder built by his uncle. In 1999, he wrote an opera with his imaginary friend Gerald.
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