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Vintage Words

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All of my doors tend to lock automatically

and no foreign bodies will be allowed entry.

All egresses are like a chess board with booby traps

to cheat when my pieces fall to superlative

encounters with other humans. Norm is defined

exclusively without committee input.

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Losing games has become a pastime. Extra

aces clutter the bathroom, I find bingo

buttons in my cupboards. Closets dispense

fresh tee shirts and handfuls of broken

knight pieces. I wonder at the maps that

lead outside recognizing this as an attempt

to believe in magic again. Black is less favored

here than gray. No other color can work

in such a canvas of mattless finishes; this

realm is one of paper with no ragbond.

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The decision has been made. All things

bright and cheerful are banned; no

video games, no television news broadcasts.

This external lie machine is exiled to eat

the minds of the unforgivably ignominious

and profoundly aggressive. Ambition, thy

other name is too political to mention.

Success is illusion's toy. Wealth is a

means to ignore other people.

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Books are for those who want to learn

what goes on inside other heads. Of course

my ego has far more interest to hold me

and better ideationscapes to entertain my

need to self indulge, wallow, and imagine.

A radio might run into a happy moment,

a fate worse than running into love.

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I have begun a program of reaping

demons knowing that sowing demon seeds

takes care and patience. I refused

to see the forest full of angels for all

the fires. I actually have an end game,

but life is busy destroying the vectors

that lead to fulfilling any destiny. No more

sung notes, no more oratory; destroy

everything beautiful and then arrest

the balance of anything that might bring

a smile to the lips of a billion granite

faces.

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Automatic locking doors consistently keep

out hope mongers incessently wanting to push

unbelievability. Sanctum is the center

of my mind and I live there comfortably

in a hall I designed just for me. Keep out.

The directions here entails a long fall,

pleasurable emptiness, and a desire

to declare void everything else. You

would go out like a match in a hurricane.

There is a key, but I lost it years ago.

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allets

12-10-16

111a

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