The light flashed while everyone overlooked the silent sermon when the only object laying in a hand was a flower.
That was it, it wasn’t a troublesome charm
it wasn’t the Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity
or an executed animal on a symbol
I’ll fumble the rest of my words around a jewel instead of a flower..because we are looking for jewels and carbon.
something to fill our tanks about
The elaboration is dense, Rococo and orderly like the foggy waves of the Sea Organization
Naturally, Neptune is in the ninth house at this moment
Somehow it was all too simple.
we all wanted something antique, something out of the blue institutionally brought to us by a séance from the Fox sisters, Maria Orsic, or Madame Blavatsky who was a Dolgorukaya, if that counts for anything
I wish more people believed in Houdini, he was on to something
Unexpectedly a Mennonite answered our call on a smartphone
while in another time stream Joseph Smith, a treasure revealer found hidden teachings within the earth, it wasn’t lithium
It was the easily suggestible idea of gold-souled people, that is the white and delightsome people
do not worry about any rate above the electrostatic discharge
the lightning cube is transparent and all ethnicity is an animal
mined and mislead by our own metaphors
Everyone wants superior quality
but instead
we get condescending indigestion, disdainful cavities, and patronizing weight gain
the match was between Genghis Khan and Abraham all along
The lightning cube showed up on a crisp September 30th, 2002 during a San Geronimo Feast Day at Taos Pueblo. The clowns came out of the earth spreading over the surface of the Pueblo. All the kids shun the clowns to stay out of the wake of their glance, except the group of Mormon boys who watched the clowns excessively. The clowns eventually tied the brothers with their own ties and led them around on their own leash.
what are we looking for when we stare into a god?
An archetype like no other we can trust
maybe on a coin or dollar.
To remind us of statutory offenses, the victim, the predator, theft, and the law fused equally on all sides of the carefree lightning cube
The dharma etiquette of himself is kitsch. A mollusk and turban, an autoscopic hallucination.
A man stapled on a plus sign
A formula that converts minds into objects
However, among the long list of photos, I don’t see you or me on an evidence board held tightly by any gold hierarchical lineage
The Chinese said it was the cult of the Guru. I haven’t read the classified papers to know what Confucius really believed
but still, the lightning cube is the ace over all semi-legendary testimonies and more importantly, all man-made stories
In the organized news flash and after image, the silhouettes flow time together, retinal impressions, and the pupil attaches words to transparency
Laozi I think saw six points while everyone else saw a box
eventually, the box becomes six-syllables
what lies deep into the strobe?
seeing all at once and altogether the estrangement of the godhood we fear to face because our identity is a memory paging a copy
our face as every face watching a clock
the circle as self, the self divided into two fucks, four seasons, and twelve points of Horus’s scope
floating gently on the scale of a barred spiral galaxy
written by ©Mitchell Pluto 9/30/2022