Installment One

I figured I could just talk
and sort out the submerged undertow of buried History
that hadn't yet witnessed pause for the written word in English
and presumes that corporate history books sold for a price in bookstores
constitute contemplative gibberish mingled with falsifications
like how Austrian royalty would have paid in the seventeenth century
for some flattering paintings of themselves
when causing chaos through lack of diplomacy, war, violence and general piggishness
so I will piece together these half sewn scraps of old flags
that glimmered in the night tides
to decant where all the color came from
besides this onus of Life's stilted brevity
as delineated by textbook theory of a Lucy in Africa
and some uncertain land bridge crap occurring during the Ice Age
and weird gaps in radiocarbon dating
and etc.

The human race, according to me
began a trillion years ago
with the introduction of wooden plank buildings
made on former estuaries by the coast
and spread inland from the stars,
where most of the beings came from and settled
whether their stories were based in horror, luck, gambles, love affairs, family tradition, or slavery
the seeds of their lifeboats landed in the oceans first
and spread to the shores
where the races of immortals became acclimated to the Earth's ecosystem
and errantly adopted customs such as sexual reproduction or mortality
sometimes based on the packages they had brought with them
items such as thimbles for sewing on porches
hourglasses to curse the underclass or the guilty
or works of art that fled into the saline ocean waves before steel starred daybreak. 
I remember growing up first on Mango Street in Australia
before traveling to the present day Falklands
and meandering up the West Coast of the Americas
where I knew you in that now famous city of Los Angeles
only our ages were flipped somehow
you were say fourteen when I was sixteen
and rode around on a bicycle with red tassles on the handlebars
before some town based episode
of people trying to factory infuse aesthetics into products
that led towards some general artistic confusion
before some insane creature planted all the trees on Earth
which is now seen as sanity instead of as totems seeded for power
and other such legends

there were awful trevails at times
a council from space
trying to use the planet as a kind of evolutionary zoo or prison
(and maybe they somehow won)
but for whatever the reason
I was whisked away by a Family Project
to the city of San Dimas all those billions of years ago
where I fell in love with a Sister in Training
who gave me drinks of beer at apartment parties
before I met Samantha who owned the house down the block
who I became fast friends with after saving my first kiss from interstellar drug zombism
and I can see now on her porch above a white brick wall laughing at what happened
to my first car that I crashed on purpose because it got locked up in some gauge credit system
that is not unlike having to pay for gasoline or electricity.

Then they changed the name of San Dimas
to Beverly Hills
or something
but there were lush forests back then
before the first Atomic wars
that created present day deserts across the map of America
along with the general amnesias people now have
and perhaps a sense of oppression and confusion
when trying to look back at the past
without seeing themselves as a part of it.

Well a lot of things happened there with silly Samantha
who held parties with invitations
and got really upset with me one summer day in the white and light blue kitchen
for making her a pitcher of lemonade
and I figured it was because she thought I had slipped in some poison
but later
all it amounted to was that it reminded her of the color of urine that day
when she had been hoping for a reconciliation with the cosmos
which would impart a gnostic understanding in revelations
about how all of Existance and Beinghood came to exist
so in retrospect
I guess the lemonade seemed a negligent gesture
but that was before all these hideous evolutionary class disputes
and before I left to go to Illinois where I fell in love with a Siberian criminal
who wouldn't leave a prison ghetto through the sewer, he was that proud
and so I left him through tears
until I got correspondence through a refugee mail bag from Samantha
saying that San Dimas turned into some forlorn brackish backwater prison shack too
and that I should travel out there so that we could live out our last days.

I got the transit papers through a homosexual sergeant who was apportioning different races to labor camps for insane projects, such as a radar complex in New Mexico to fend off Krauts and some kind of giant Mystic Mystic Sculpture in Old Texas, the town known for making infamous the white picket fence
though maybe this was after they blew the Moon into desolate craters
when it used to be some sister colony and a vacation area
where you could go up and see the different interplays of light, how exotically the Moonscape hung in black and white framings when plants from Earth took on almost radioactive color
but that was before
they began processing people genetically using measurements of their teeth that were based in ignorance of anything
and I wonder now
if the fleeting space missions up above
will discover anything at all
but powder and ash and dust and rubble
as the craters beam down and should frown instead of smile. 

In New San Dimas
everybody became anti art
as I worked as a mechanic on cars
before being accused of Lesbianism
which was an old word for simply "Romantic"
so I hiked out to Pasadena
where I celebrated Christmas with a flask of whiskey and few friends
before walking out to Hermosa Beach
where I found an abandoned peach house on Bell Street
that was so named for the chimes in the sidewalk
that morosely would announce the number of dead from the war in tolls
and that happened so often that the Bell System broke
but that was before all the gibberish
of GTE vs ESP
how people couldn't decide
if they wanted a telepathic telephone system or one based in wires
so a person would get paid in food if they voted either way
but soon they were getting paid in weapons as the sides partitioned
and a civil war broke out
based in gene tonics called drugs
and then I remember losing my friend with the orange hair
after she gave me a can of seven up as an insult. 

The scrambling people kept manufacturing insanity after insanity
and there were frequent phone system bombings
along with tricks with magnetic powder
that could accelerate musket balls through an apartment as twice the speed of sound
so you would never hear it coming in your easy chair
but this was before I realized
that the Sixth Great Extinction
would constitute a race that simultaneously discovered both drug intoxication and time travel
since it would be worse than drunk driving
or anything
with some stupid asshole on a fucked up phone system for instance
sending musket balls into residencies with addresses in the future
that could shoot through cribs and mattresses with armor piercing voice guided inflection rounds
but when AT and T won
and let GTE operate
I wondered what the hell happened
and understood maybe then somehow
that the fortress had crumbled along with the soldiers
when bowmen would appear on dust soaked roofs in the beating heat
firing crossbows into stained glass church windows
when all I was doing
was looking for a butter knife or something makeshift
to open a can of tomatoes for soup that could last a week
when the Armies kept coming over
and the way they would draft you then
was by giving you a pair of shoes in what they thought was your size
whether you wanted them or not
because the soldiers on the streets
would fight over them regardless
even though they were obviously extra crappy shoes.

So I tried to send mail grams
instead of using the Anarchic Postal Service
of letters and things I could procure like rose petals
before some asshole put their guitar in my bedroom
along with a soiled pair of pink slacks
and all I could figure then was
"jesus this must be worse than the Army"
but then I realized coyly
that since it was my bedroom
that I could just claim that the objects were mine
and I started a band for Peace
with a raven as my emblem
later following a sparrow in play
and that was when AT and T lapsed again
and began manufacturing suits of electrician armor that looked like Darth Vader
which would end up killing anybody inside of it
and my voice grew so hoarse from screaming while singing
that I gave up the band and hid in old passage ways that had been meant as amusement parks
but became the LA sewers like how the water in "Its a Small World" at Disneyland
probably would kill you if you drank it
but I left after I got shot at by some laser mad drunk
who didn't know how to lift his rifle
which was meant for sabotaging phone boxes anyhow
and thankfully wasn't based on magnetic principles
since a bead of lead would have gone through my heart
and thats when I got my first tattoo
har de har har.