Tale of the Yang Zag
Posted: July 20th, 2016, 7:09 pm
The yang zag was not responding when i woke up - it all began last night after Brandy Cabbage licked the cannon - all her atoms were astir because her captain had taken her blanket and given it to bandits - her anguish became catholic, exact & cattle fragmented to how she was born - she became a candle baptist before my eyes - a combat damsel who went to the river where she opened a mini mart/gas station & wrapped herself in a stance - her bachelor skin arrow quiver, beaded with mystic designs she always kept in her bedroom which spanned the sand up & down both banks - Sam Ram came in to wax the stones she pointed out for 500 feet in either direction - she sold a 25 pack of backbone word baskets for a buck two forty to every sinner & fisherman who came and told them where to pitch their tents - word spread - the business grew became its own chain reaction - Thomas Jefferson rose from his grave & Brandy looked down the barrel of his cannon, she licked her lips & the lamps all flickered - Thomas abandoned his plantation & his slaves who became a tribe in their own right and built the first Chevy, invented the blues, & founded Motown - stop in the name of love ! shouted the tramp fascists filled with holy zeal but Thomas & Brandy ran for the Appalachians crossing them by the light of the moon and lit out for Indian Country. Like their great great grandson DB Cooper, their bodies were never found. It's in the handbook.
Years before DB Cooper was born when Henry Miller showed up in Paris, penniless & in need of food & food & women no one noticed the beaded quiver he carried or the mystic designs upon it wrapped in a wolverine skin bag & closed with a tip of elk antler horn slipped through a loop of buffalo hide. He had brought it to Paris with him from America where the apples were less anxious, the candlelight cheap, and appetites more transparent. Magnitudes & massacres were just Henry's game but he knew what he carried wasn't for him.
Years before DB Cooper was born when Henry Miller showed up in Paris, penniless & in need of food & food & women no one noticed the beaded quiver he carried or the mystic designs upon it wrapped in a wolverine skin bag & closed with a tip of elk antler horn slipped through a loop of buffalo hide. He had brought it to Paris with him from America where the apples were less anxious, the candlelight cheap, and appetites more transparent. Magnitudes & massacres were just Henry's game but he knew what he carried wasn't for him.
