waldopaper

Marx On My Wall

Posted in Answers, Reality, Uncategorized by waldopaper on June 1, 2014

Murmuration

Chauvethorses…throwing stones like your ten feet tall.”  –ECW

Keep your eye on the sparrow.  All of them… seem connected by something… well… yes.  Welcome to the Gettysburg Gate House.

The Collective:  what is it? 

gatehouse1 seem stark mute, but inwardly do prate.
I am, and not; I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned.

-Elizabeth I

On Monsieur’s Departure

 

Look at the Chauvet Cave Paintings They are thirty thousand years old.  There is a Gate House on Cemetery Hill in Gettysburg   There dwelleth Kapu mate, Mother of Graves, but her name is Elizabeth Too.  Thirty thousand years old.  They are.  Murmuration of starlings so far.  Starlings are baby stars.  Like Pleiades

Come magic flying cauldron, Elizabeth Gloriana English too.  Language on the scene together.  But she calls herself Carlotta.  She is used to it.  Thirty thousand years old.  Stories from the Park are told baby stars and fixed in to bees.  The War was like seventy thousand gum-popping  rednecks in a bar down below the Hill where the lights will be… called Hey D’s.

Up the road came ninety thousand Keystone Kops.  Dancers is where the panzer all drops. Halloween night they were heading for a fight  Blowing beer fog like rabies.  Dixie Cups a stripper hit a g-string on Big Dipper now up the pike from D’s. Look away Dixie band that dog do you figure?  Yelping up the hill and here owes Saul.  Viragoes Too and One four awl and hang that Coon Town Nigger… from Pleiades.

Thirty thousand years we been doing this.  We still are not any wiser.  Boysenberry blue angry clown cars.  For snore sand dissemination jeers aglow  Dude D crawls off to freight with the Kaiser   Going over going over there just like Spangler’s Spring  Steel bayonets are limp dicks.  Dongle chords into wedding cake coffin corn whole hermeneutics.  Just like Broken Arrow Records.  No one plays these.

Pig lips stick time for Gettysburg!  Win turds for pole land and dance!  Listen to the ghosts weeping at their posts.  Come on Americans, go into your dance!  Glorious postage stamp Gettysburg.  Who wants to remember why it stank?  Gibson Girl on electric trolly by golly or yank he doodle dew it in a tank.  Hallowed ground for sure, but they filled it with manure.  Dixie datum strip mall squeeze.

Bull shit lies at Gettysburg.  Talk to people who were handling stiffs.  New birth of freedom howdy.  New debt slaves and we squatted next to graves and hurled our guts up for the smell. Flank markers and monuments do not tell that story well.  D voted to the clause affect no body ream member cause and effect shit who nose what that memes.  It is all about lucid dreams… and Pleiades.

Hey Dee, get me a beer Willya.  Willya is the house brand at D’s.  If eye toad you this hide haft to Kapu mate.  Canoe help me remember please.  Whenever you are about to pass through a door-way, remember to touch the edge and smile.  Ask if you are dreaming and do it every time and you will remember after a while.  You will always know in the dream you are dreaming.  Reflection you will not see Pleiades.

Looking east on Halloween Night the Sisters have risen.  Reformation Day in Hesse.  Carlotta in a magic flying cauldron.  From the Gate House comes Bess.  Witch one sees the other one.  What they think is any body’s guess.  It has been half a moon since baby Rose was born.  Same time in the future is the Gettysburg Address.  Virago to Virgin Queen, Sybil to shepherdess, one doeth bid ye other say cheese.

Ye booth snapped thy selfies into Spacebook and friended on Cosmos board witch is a metaphor just as dumb as new birth of freedom but it worked.  Magic only has to work once.  Browser conversation between Elizabeth Masser Thorn and Queen Elizabeth I tweet channel moon.  Both were sent here to observe this spot.  By whom or what matters not.  Remarks on my wall nose coffee and splatter snot.  Plie’ D’s.

Miseria.  Like in pizzeria.  Nomine, as in no mine.  Witch craft are coming to the Gate House touch the edge and smile and remember what has been long forgotten for a while. Eye witch stye was in the land of gotten.  Gloriana halter loo yuk .  His tooth is munching on crash at Gaul Goth thump canon bawl Evergreen sleeves.  It’s all in there.  Packed beneath a tourist trap are cases of our bones.

Plead these. 

>+< 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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2 Responses

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  1. Rose | waldopaper said, on June 9, 2014 at 6:39 pm

    […] – Anon. […]

  2. Brenda black said, on June 1, 2014 at 9:30 pm

    Feelings of yet still inadequacy and undereducated awe. Swimming in 1959 west village nostalgia.


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