Haven't been here in awhile, hope to remedy that. In the meantime enjoy a prose-poem:

ABSTRACT FROM RADIO

Last year I was bent out of shape, out on the street, obliterating the conspiracy on the obstruction of justice. I was a man of fierce pride, but also of negativity, trying to stop the politics of personal destruction. There was too much liquid up in my brain. The great illusion converged inside of me; we can’t control the mind when we feel like its time to die inside. Still, we have reason to believe that great things are possible even on a day gone bad.

My mouth is watering under the spell. I can’t help it. We must have no more compromise with the master manipulators of image control. If we compromise we will have no peace of mind. Forward March! They try to spiritually control and influence our children. They don’t know what is right. Times are hard. Who are we to complain? Yet we do it. We let them do it. 365 ½ days a year, 24 hours a day. I probably shouldn’t have done it. I do it all the time.

I don’t know how to think about it (the devil wanting me to shout in school). I wasn’t willing to do it until he wrestled me out of the chair, until I writhed on the floor, possessed. Spinning flax. Bits and pieces from things kept getting wound up to the story. I couldn’t talk (only the devil could talk through me) wizards being able to see the future from here. So take it from me, you should never point your finger at anyone or you might suffer for fifteen years. Engaging in war against the mighty morphin power rangers will improve the quality of your life. This is the only solution we can find.

Take it from me. I heard it on the radio.