Warning: Two poems next.

The rose rises above all just to wither and bleed into black flower sizzling in hot grease.

My scale of time by philosophy: Life can demand weirdness from us in terms of time + space (That is not the hope for life itself.)

To bite my bullet is a ride. Afterwards run that race. Inside the dread cityscape. Find then fleas at the market. In hotels.

If I'm right that forward motion is being witnessed let me know if I'm onto something in a month or so!🙂

There is reason to believe that earth and us people are starting to take some baby steps forwards.

Keep America Your Dream.

Being perfect is hard enough!