R/ckets and S/ntries

made font, writ large, bade attention, locked horns, stopped fallen, crazed debit, trapped cHILI pEPPERS, mold forum, mention mapping ease, traced element:

collect calls,

rustle of research papers, the creamy fabrication of sloppy joes, generosity of crud, stupour plough, mango song,

bomb scansion, poem drizzle, radio can, window drill, moan beam,

obvious retention,

third crap from the sun,

Gertrude Stein's haymaker vis-a-vis leftover aNTHONY kIEDIS,

other theories uttered

rED hOT cHILI pEPPERS still lame, limping stopgap for what the world feigns. limited interest rating gallops to the polls, finding distraction a mendicant behaviour. posing as a thrill, like the fear of deer, when deletion is just a mindframe. the political remains gunked with such and such, speckled mush on a sidewalk. the fight goes to the aliens, who are at peace. they went at peace, they took at peace, they sang Good King Wenceslas with torrid wind as winter gets. slices of empty phrase doled to the team, now go out and win it. Iraq is a plump berry, full of rED hOT cHILI pEPPERS. the news is that thick, spotted with lumps of interest. the feast of Stephen doesn't work on us. you know the names. the pEPPERS aint one of them.

ANTHONY KIEDIS is in West Virginia right now. this is another planet. this is a program. this is something he never expected. this is a green thing lasting thru winter, sort of. this is economic downsurge played out pathetically. this is music with ghosts. this is hopeless baptism. this is near enough. this is alien speak. this is poem. this is landed gentry talking thru their eyes. this is plain enough in a run to the river. this is a river until polluted. this is a frame in which much can be ornamented. this is presidential hopeless. this is the youth who will inherit the country. this is nation stuff. this is frat boys stuff. this is lost stuff under a miracle. this is empathetic like sand, mere sand. ANTHONY KIEDIS is more every day.

the singer for the group that sang "Eye of the Tiger" is now ANTHONY KIEDIS. this has to be a poem about ANTHONY KIEDIS. you "the reader" must go along. you know you are ANTHONY KIEDIS. you know you sang "Eye of the Tiger" for the past 900 years. you are confused. you bought South Vietnam for chump change. any change is good change. "Eye of the Tiger" meant Rocky would live on. Rocky is a pet. Rocky told ANTHONY KIEDIS to glow more forthrightly. as the battle wears on, the diameter of circles becomes more carefully measured. the singer for the group that did "Eye of the Tiger" gets funky. he lives in that ward. he calls out the numbers best suited to the occasion. he renders definite closure on problems, for minutes at a time. thus the circle translates into more prevalence, we each have a hand in it. ANTHONY KIEDIS rethinks his career, and all the bubbles of air that congest in his bloodstream. he ambles the country with his tiger eye. reader is ready for a trip as well.

sent them a "North" Vietnam. sent them a vicious terrorist act. sent them a CIA. sent them a quandary. sent them within living memory, also known as dead space. here the rhythm fails. sent them more Vietnam edge, defining one end and another. sent a note to them, to wit: the colours were approval, albeit random and merely stated. everyone had a "great" time, definition being what it is. the aliens were excited, made beeping sounds like "Ed McMahon". the RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS were no less stupid than before. a call came thru. it said: "send your best." we sent what we could. there was time still for a "South" Vietnam. the Baghdad part of Vietnam ("North" or "South") shivers with intense feeling. should send them more beguiling entries.

tried instant without success.
tried practice.
tried deal and worm thru.
tried light, it mattered.
tried day in big jam, tried night in electric.
tried date, tried charm.
tried smooth movie, tried wind.
wound wind and tried again.
tried data stream but only so far.
so far, tried the word. last word
was enough.

reconstituted amity in milliseconds. moribund consequence in raid on section. each section provides its own. lurid embargo forces one section. constitution invokes another section. hopped up on some new-fangled delinquency for a mood change, and community watch. boss fog locks in. trays are distorted, disrupting what is carried on. army embolism is 'my' fault. aliens in the notch of a tree look to the catalogue, where all order comes home.

got a question? aliens invented the lead singer for RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS. the picture ends while shitheads determine the fate of West Virginia. boss faction got a drink. late mood wanders on. tyranny is a word from the 18th century. democracy is a word from the 19th century. capital is a word in and of itself, all over the place and determining. the singer for RHCP, namely Anthony Kiedis, leads the army into almost. well, you understand.

miracle of bumps,
occasion of hens,
mining sequence remaining in green,
taxation clause of lumpy frames,
ampitheatre pantomime,
desire of towing,
golden road to unlimited devotion,
determination of words

trying eminent subscription. the vote is in: AC/DC rocks the murky parts of MARS! party on. ritual fulfills prophecy: Republicans in the White House. Schwarzenneggers as governor, winter winds, etc. teasing the aliens means writing letters to the lead singer of THE RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS (Anthony Kiedis). each word that he reads will be a spell, each spell a hit song, each hit song a beginning of a poem, each poem a way to get girls, each girl a panzer division, each panzer division a delivery of radio time, each radio time promises AC/DC pounding "Highway to Hell", each "Highway to Hell" distracts Anthony Kiedis (lead singer, RHC Peppers). that musical video channel sells pictures every minute. the aliens get the picture. everyone melts.

we've trod the earth, all 7 feet of it. we've scanned the sky, from one end to the other (9 feet seven inches). we've lived forever, like the play of elves. we've got all the cds by RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS. we've begun in belief, ended in disaster. George W Bush was president once. he was funk. the PEPPERS wore underwear of the gods. more works fill more time.

jostled by elves who said, salute or moan. orisons were sung by the group that did "Eye of the Tiger'. train crashed on buried rocks, the slanting indignity of captured atoms. later, a miserable thought concerning deaf someone on top of something. rain turns to snow. someone robs another one, while humming a nationalist tune. figments of imagination line up and ask the singer of the group that did "Eye of the Tiger" some highly personal questions. elves, meanwhile, dodge all queries. Walt Whitman becomes indignant. he likes to think of himself as a taproot. the elves seem imported. moments are spent considering the guitar face of the guitarist of the group that did "Eye of the Tiger". after which, the elves take over, helped by the aliens. friends, the next move is 'yours'.