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49 Rippleriffs

One night when I was out playing in the zero point field with dad and Auntie Karin, I overheard them talk about Mantell's Uncertainty Event.

Mantel was the zany string theory guy, wondering if we could shoot our rockets into our hells to wake the ferrymen from midstream snoozes.

I feel like I'm on a boat through the outskirting skidzones of perdition shores, left foot right foot closer to flowered dress.

I figured it out over those long walks past bright Santa Coke to bruised jewel Karin, patterns fractals my face shoved into dimensions.

I knew what Mantell's theory was, and Karin was wonderful at knitting to be continued lies, she let me kill him to keep the true story safe.

The flowered print dress was a Mandalbrot malfunction, a map of the fifteenteenteentwo known dimensions, my fate generously undecided.

Can I emerge sooner, greet myself at her door drink the Santa drink shoot my granddad me not born so who shoots granddad? Answer: Santa.

She smothers me into the 1972 of another place, tonic-clonic seizures leaving me lucid thru most of it not all, I'm responsible for WWIII.

smothershove I cause the Vailala Madness by growing Micronesia in the small of my back, the Philippines on my biceps then reaching to itch.

I'm with dad in various agegroupings, one time, the scariest of times, we were twins, but it got worse, I kept aging, he stayed young me RIP

shovegrab moveshove submergence like a twenty minute drum solo in my earsockets random singularitys tear this wall down mister mister 1989.

my only guess is that Karin thinks she can wash something out of my memory crankbanks and shumpftt I'm gone again another war, on Saturn.

I float in a space cube at the edge of the E-ring of the Pentagon, I've never heard of dialing 911 or 9/11 and watch a plane skid life ends.

Saturn's F-ring now, new moons discovered as drool from my mouth, I'm the unknown face in a thousand aboriginal myths a hundred cereal boxes.

She loves this I know me between her aging breasts caught between being and unbeknowest she really thinks I must know something time to go.

At one point, reality warps to match the present past and future so no surprise the floral dress becomes spray paint head caresses on fumes

I create Sanskrit and befriend Gilgamesh put a revolving door in the Sphinx's left foot and three hundred feet below my face full of latex.

her screaming inkiness begats calico as I'm now fighting a civil war on behalf of the methane man, an island of him and me and all of you.

The thing is I always come back I'll always GO-GO BACK to 1968 she never understood, I didn't know anything when MLK and RFK went RIP BAMBAM

Only in the hear and then of 1973 my repeated dunkings in greasepainted flowerage fantasyfest bodypaintmoist did I find the hidden "thing".

Yet I still had to live my life switch my realities like television channels newspaper rippleriffs 1954 I kill Culhane in a red treehouse.

Red for commie, red for Saturn V rocket fuel Kindred the filmmaker Jimmy Cagney in a snuff film opposite Howard Hughes 2 birds 1 stone yep.

grrovestuck then 2374 upside twistdown hLEZ. Sleazy zealous, a new answer then Karin's tongue slits my thoughts i cough up exegesis later.


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