text || Edward Nichols

Nothing up my sleeves

Infernal birth machines.Infernal breast feeding.The calling of the north brings the legislature to a standstill.Logicians orchestrate anew Math.Strong gusts of the stench of Death rolls fromthe street.
    The order of the day is ostentaciously celebrated with the resounding ring ofour forefathers.Buildings of atrophy are strong in the style of collage imitative relief.Amorphis treasure trove . Antecedent.
    I like older coffee potsbetter than than the knew ones,they,ve got more of an old time kick to them.
The vacancy ofreprisal brings to a head the epiphany of man.She opens the doorfor me,givesme the opportunity to do and be everything.
  plying through boards of nailed seclusions.
the fastidiouness in this plodding down of words.Some may be the words of centuries ago,some maybe the phrases .
Iam in the level of what happened I know where it's at-the question is -what am I looking at;what am I looking for.Maybe when I find out what It ,I'll know what it is. Maybe it will soothe my disposition.Then I can

put it where it belongs. I can see it in the distance.It seems as though it is getting closer and receding simultaneously.    I I can now see it getting cloer.But I still can't make it out, not quite just now.

   Maybe its an archetype,perhaps my Ego or, my Id wanting everything,right now.NO,....no, momentarily becoming more focused-it appears to, now, be myself.
    Perhaps I've died, and in  my astral form,I'm seeing the old me.But, just as soon as I think I have it pinned down,it recedesand I can't
possess it.
I seem to be lying on the floor,and can't really move from this place,this position. I suppose it's all symbolism.I've certainly have nothing up my sleeves to resolve my dilemna.   Krishnu made an appearance and hummed OM.I tuned into that,and it did put me in a meditative state.