The Mission
A separate design.
By Hart Heiden
Where does wherever take you? When will you respond? Dedicated messages contribute relentless coffee-covered constituency circles into the odorless economy of publishing. Decline prime stamp. Approve outsider opinion poles. Consider the copy has you connected by the sharing of the printer. Keep up with the Jones’ if it makes you feel any more respected only who you are won’t make a hollow-staggering difference to say they’ve even got a clue. How it goes? Best wishes to those. Give them whatever they want before you do whatever you do in-line prose. Extracting venom from teeth is like resting a snake’s vessel on the mouth of a hollowed out shell repeat on the sea-shore while it salutes convoluted messages to tour-guides guesses-es partnering up with West African natives to prove that they know something. Patience speaks softly to me. Language receipts want out, but creep in—they mystify like pullover jets, and then repeat their sets. It paints a ready-made bowl of picture-perfect porridge that gets tongued out between a red-hot riot hoodie particle pressing over incriminating evidence that someone else might have been here before the bears rolled in. Does establishment ever question whether their livelihood could be in jeopardy as they ingest their seared-steak covered sandwiches with swigs from a clear, tall glass of oat-milk and a side of tornado-alley fries. The French weren’t always that great to us, but that’s why we left them something pleasant to remember with all those tornadoes sailing by. If I was an open canister of bad ideas which I wouldn’t suggest that I normally am, I would infer that we play our pissing-match straight into the wind and see how far our smiles can save us. Perhaps an opportunity avails itself to connect with how spoiled we have all become while we wander through our treacherous provinces.
Slaves make mistakes too. They all do. Not us. No, never us. They all wonder what issue to sunder and hop over brakes like they came from down under. The commented tissue could not offer stakes, but built on constitutional declarations meant to violate the crime. What was unsettling was the part of an individual that wants to be more fearless but where their burnt-out eyes keep them from rotating firmly under suppressed emotional stances of spiritually expressive chances and suffocation of elongated branches like the visualization exercises that we did last week. Powerful once was were no more. There lie delinquent wonders covered up under covers calibrating connections that vividly associate and violate trespasser’ authority for useful directions. Subsections collude to confuse those who would choose drawn-out distinctions by only witness accounts of the multitude of drifters. Assailants with no vision; no purpose; no rendition or concision, but their own that’s kept from far away the mothership of homegrown. Captivation works too when it clearly objectifies the purpose. Otherwise it might continue to exist un-clarified.