The Unstoppable Blood Jet Pt. I

Note: As always the material you are about to

read is sort of a work of fiction based on true events.

Those events correspond to a reading held

at the Florida Public Library on April 16, 2010.

THE UNSTOPPABLE BLOOD JET

PART I

Virtuosity coruscated from the perfidious barrels of our eyes, Big Pink and I set out into the aphotic brackish of blackberry winter to skull fuck the dandy's with our oratory and so we did.

I dismounted in the sleepy hamlet of Florida, New Amsterdam with the rooty quiddity of Calliope in the threads of my unwashed hair.

We drifted into a grotto of picture-books and chocolate-covered strawberries with our weapons loaded and serenely plugged our Ajna's into the mercurial grid.

Rebecca Schumejda summarized an oxygenated ocean of imagery and vision with a human face and a kind mein prickled with innocent jests of levity.

Janet Hamill commanded the audience with an affable yet momentous tone while administering a lethal dose of brilliantly crafted surrealism;
I would like to state for the record that I died mirthfully fulfilled.

Robert Milby who has been called everything from "The Whirling Dervish of Poetry" to the "Sir Milby of Florida" or just simply the "Tzar" brought the reading to a powerful sociopolitical end employing work dealing with the oil crisis, dead patriots, and the unthinking Amerikan majorities disregard for virtue, purpose, and love in the modern information epoch.

There was no time for elbow bumps or posturing after the curtains dropped and the candle flames died just a hustle through mist with Ziplocs of cookies too tires squealing fog fits.

One hundred & twelve minutes to get to the capital district before the genome samples we'd recovered from the hull of the aero-copter would deteriorate into viral progenitors and the human project would once and for all dissolve...

Would we get there in time?

Alive?

In one piece?

TO BE CONTINUED...