Bread Made in the History of Mankind

To break free from no irregular humility,
unless the rain it pours in need.
The health of my true character.
Permission never becomes granted
through lives of "the saints".
There is a thin blue:
light - you turn both
on and off.
The flick of a-switch is there!
That I refuse
to cut myself short; -
over fascism?
Like the request for a weather vain
pointed in direction
of blue skies.
Testing greed
- taking it back
directly to the
source of opinioned
information.
Each breath I consume
myself, with no lost
sense of self-respecting
nature.
That life is not uninvited.
That life is not made of Alice
in Wonderland "pop up"
fairy tales without the thunder of pouring
rain.
Decensitized endings.
That the tea-party has no end,
in thoughts of cheating thunder.
That life is not made
of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales, decensitized
end in thoughts.
That life is not made
of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales end in death.
My melancholy waltz.
To break free from no irregular humility,
unless it pours rain there is a story.
Decenstized end in thoughts,
that life is not made of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales no end in death.
I save no secrets as I share to generalize
nothing. . . I care about.
Decensitized end in thoughts,
that life is not made
of Alice in Wonderland
"pop up" fairy tales
. . . that unless it pours rain for.
No secrets I will save with the size of
King Kong in the rain.
I will save no secrets with King Kong,
disguised wearing a fake beard and glasses.
The sights and sounds of feeling rain drops,
pour down on me
as they are dripping wet beaded off
the bridge of my nose-tip.
A perfect storm of clouds.
I will save no secrets,
of cheating thunder for the rain.
I do not believe in fairy-tales,
Alice in Wonderland "pop-up" art
without it raining.
Nothing is there.
There is nothing.
There is nothing there.