Misterioso
...while calenders are marching. I have pondered the infinite definitions of chairs and soy sauce and have licked the Tootsie Roll Pop three times before I crunched it to find my muse. These are the last minutes of Misterioso and she stares at you through unfiltered windows and laughs at ceramic junk monkeys. At some time in about seven moments ago you will find her over a rainbow and seeking the divinity in puddles of anti-freeze and kids outside your local mall. How is this not obvious to all who refuse to listen? Music is a moment's notice and Radar notices that moment. Some have opened the matchbook to find the forbidden lore of future shamans and bizarre crimson terminology. She has thought of us sleeping and it has made her cry. Leave her alone. Chairs swivel and darkness falls and yet these scents of champa and vanilla give no clue as to where we were. Open these gates and order Big Macs on sale and cherish the first fry that falls to the floor. Some have forgiven themselves but I have cursed their breakfast and their checkpool dollars. Let it be known that Oompa has pictured motions and stabilized the paper towels. That is a sign of things to go. Have you been watching what is in your spoon? You will find the patterns on blank screens with hyperlinks to know-where. She senses that we are sick of working and she holds on to tangles of wires that destroy hemispheres. She has reached inside and held the machine and found the opposite of it's yearning to be. Sometimes when the Moon is hiding I can hear the mist and feel the sound of distant thunder and early transmissions from 20th century radio. She floats above the ocean and casts here words away upon the waves. That is her gesture and her silence. Struck down there is nothing in her hand. Green teas are crumbled and the closeness is far from here. Let's reinvent this madness and build altars on rooftops in her honor. The little people have listened and they have changed their tune. Someone has blamed the lactose intolerant for the ego of Arcadia. Pinball is the answer but you have been stripped of this most ancient of sugar-coated secrets. Spiders are reconciling the quantum paradox. So much at stake and then I wake up. Bitches Brew was in her honor and it can still be heard Miles away. She dances...
