To map out the conquest may take too long chasing delinquency out of the front of the house I tripped over an old dog with his tongue sticking out of his mouth damp and moist as the frost in the morning air brought a foreign wind to the front of screen I mirrored myself on the deep hanging cloth option two would soon become the place where the wild dancing children would be welcomed open arms chasing towels on the corner of my own making i wonder where the freedom had gone I feel like it was here a few weeks ago but the demoralization of a certain someone turned the soil over golden worms enter through the canvass theres a hole from when you placed a napkin on the table which was covered in a plastic goofiness im looking into my own elements without a care or worry in the world its almost as if the lock on the cage turned a wholly new chemical compound unaware of even the shortest rule in the book I began reading from the start at page 1. I had forgotten my place in the realm of the cosmos. the bottoms of our feet encased with thick calluses made the better side of a cows tongue turn over. It was like there was no teeth left. the swollen quarter had been used for a discrepancy for a number of years. our former grandparents had lived better lives if only for a few short years. We remember the worlds of our utter decadence and delight. We strived for the better part of another word we awoke so many times before that the sunlight began to ponder and sing for us. it was like a childs choir that had run out of fish for sale. What we were doing out on the stage with such beauty and magnifying talent? I feel like a four year old girl who has just had the heads of her dolls removed by her bother. without warning a new force of nature recalls a magnitude of gratitude. What were we before this?. Have we crossed the bridge that we came to? Removed a piece of glass perception from the reality of time? Send me a watch in bag filled with cotton I button one back in Japan for my mother before she decided she didn’t want to know who I was anymore. I’ve seen so little in this world, and for what reason/ why come together when we could be a little child strung out on the weekend on little bloody blue pills. our factories have turned into shells of our decaying world. isn’t that a shame? What have we turned into? I cant even walk down the street anymore without some child or pink bellowed chicken trying to tell me how to my life? Whatever happened to rights to loneliness? to the feeling of emptiness that can grab you by the stomach, and turn you upside down over an ocean in the place where you are truly most alone. its like there is nothing left to do and that you are pinpointing the devil. The glorious lord of this world now defined by several books and bottles of spoiled milk.
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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