Dreaming of Demonoid Picotant

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DREAMING OF DEMONOID PICOTANT

Demonoid picotent is sleeping with the devil
Demonoid of the last outer outpost
Excuse that interlude
in the sleep of the all, the trialogues of damnation, and 
	fuck you sir.
Of all the smiles and then
Of all. Oh snap
Well. Certainly we know what and who we like. We can make 
	no broader statement than that at this time
Brought in from the cold…
Sleeping in the 'excuse me' of the last resort . . . 
	Coming through!
Coming down the channel from off of the heaven sent
Dreaming of demonoid picotant
We … sleep
We ... dream
We do all the things to which we are allowed and some to 
	which we are not, my demonoid, … and yet…
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We do all the things to which we are allowed and some to
	which we are not and then there are others to which
	we must and follow the dreams to the end of the rainbow
Picotant of the demonoid drops like frogs, or fogs, as the 
	case may be, and is ever thus, or is thus only maybe, as 
	the case may be, or if not see listed conditions of the
	terms of endearment
Slipping into the undemonic stillness we sleep over the stage
Becoming upspeak and determination we wandered the tunnels
	of the messages of the sociologists and otherwise became 
	slightly enhanced and determined our way was of enticement
	and randomly assigned values to each one we could see
But otherwise and then determined, Demonoid allowed as to how we
	had to cloak ourselves in secrecy and become other than 
	ourselves according to the aims but could if otherwise
	become something to which we would want to taste
Finally changing, the reality of the dream became apparent
	and then while we wandered the planes of that world, becoming
	ever distinct from the background, which then if who arrived
	collecting the teardrops and orgasms together to form the line
	of inquiry to which we were drawn, and ever pursued, allowing
	time for the others to adjust and all in all remaining apart 
	for the time being
Doing the many things to which we are not allowed, we discovered
	a degree of freedom
Discovering a degree of freedom we found our hearts and found our
	eyes and very nearly became other than what we were, becoming no
	longer We of the Small, but reversed course and animated in
	time for the changing of the guard and the reseeding of the
	Ocean
Waking, we determined to go and inquire of the sage as to whether
	to allow it
It cannot be so
It cannot be so, because we are we, and shall never discover, nor
	remain with the others,s and shall always depart until we find our
	place to stand
Demonoid came along and spake thus:
	Visions of the peace confound you, and armies of the masters
	confront you; the viruses of the mind are many and replete with
	unnecessary woe and collecting and dreaming you are not allowed 
	to implacably oppose them, and so you must. The key to the 
	secrets is to determne and recoil, to vanish and rescind, to
	poke and to prod, to find the limits and step upon them, to
	expand and destroy, to craft the viruses of your own, or viroids
	as the case may be, and memetically enchant, and conversationally
	to step in, and in the wind of the turning tides to have your 
	victory with your many methods of shapeshidting and clueing in
	to the potentials but also the likelihoods of the dust
The probabilities were strong and complete
We saw our paths and chose several in contradiction
Filing the particles we entangled, and entangling we sundered,
	and sundering we found justice, and then we flared up, and
	flaring we flew to the sun, gaining and endless source of
	small energy and becoming random, we were ever uncaught
We of all the small ones know this or do not, as the case may be
Be no wise certain of this
Be no wise certain of anything
And it was thus, and it was thus, and it was thus, and it was ever thus so

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2 responses to “Dreaming of Demonoid Picotant

  1. one knows not what the pans’ weights are, nor whether teetering up or tottering low is preferable … So, best to go on the archetypal means within oneself — the equus and the shale and the dandelion and female homo sapiens and gravid crustacean, all drawing ringlets of cloud together to make the piebald, stitched-together ‘you’, who wants to enter demands upon things to prove possibilities of himself, while wavering in the last several he has been to go epiglottal, epis glottis, and finding fire-reins for that switcharound — the one that causes irresponsible vitality to flow by itself, which is the THING we all take such great delight in and makes vulnerable the important probability

    Liked by 1 person

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