DUBLIN IS BURNING

BLOOMING! On a bus to NYC, weather by Van Gogh. Reading that Usylessly unreadable book of odyssey, on the Mahayana, in the long memory, going forth by dayagain!

The Psilocybin speaks more of the many in THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED. Metemorphoses of word & thought through Spacetime, this light as a riverGeneral Semantics: Our use of language can severely alter our experience of Universe. Meanwhile, mine animism eyes spy translucent streams of organic ether, the open system, Alleluia! The Neurogenetic jam box spins Akashic records as the wheels on the bus go round and round.

The King and I will have our talk soon, of that much I am certain. He’s been on his cell phone speaking in foreign tongues for an hour now, when his call is finished, we will speak of things.

The King is dressed in the very most resplendent fineries, a man of gold and diamond and silk.
A full page of TEXT embroidered on his shirt, soul on ice! I’ve a Dogs Playing Poker tie
amongst my usual dorky rags, I hope I look ridiculous enough!

DAMN! Look at Shortie right there! (Across the way) Only just made of electricity!

A shimmering bundle of shakti, I wish for to tell her! “Excuse me, Miss, but it seems you’re a manifestation of the Waters of Life which pour into the world inexhaustibly, thank you.” Bah! She already knows. Everyone already knows, after their own fashion, and changing everyday, smiling then to full capacity, so help me Fucking Christ! Finally, after 600 pages, Jeems Jokes drops the F BOMB.

Abu is an Ambassador from Nigeria. (Foolish artisan myself, sir, what news?)  The language he was speaking has no name and he thinks it odd that I would assume it might. In Africa they have over 2,000 languages, most of which are nameless, communication is problematic. All around the world we speak different dialects of one same language, Abu suggests. (The logo substance of which the word is merely a reference!? Snoogans.) The rise of tyrant war lords and the resulting cultural isolation balkanized the once common language of ancient Africa. (Falling tower mythos seem to recur.) He tells me then of the African land, of their abundance, of a world not yet but rather to may-be. (4 times was the city rebuilded, Hooo Fasa.) He likes dialectic, the universal language, a babelfish called JIVE swims towards Wagadu, and the bus stops in Manhattan. “It was nice to meet you Abu!”

There’s the MAIN MAN then! Fellow bus passenger, and smiling face. We’ve MADISON UNDERGROUND business now if ya’ll’ll excuse us, our adventure having only just begun.  
NYC sun shines us a welcome.

Hello to everyone!
and how’s your deal?
A fine thing indeed
it sounds and to all
the best of luck.
More of everything please
and do keep the change.
Thanks a million
and have a nice day!
Eventually I meet a girl who makes me look ridiculous enough, THE END.