Whenever the regular king was drunk or otherwise distracted,
the alternative ruler would run about exclaiming:
“Now’s your chance --  free yourselves, good people!  --
you have nothing to lose but the chains of delusion!” --
in reply to which one man mused that he didn’t even have that much at risk.
“Pa pa: why are there times when allegories make me want to scream?!”
    “Son, that’s because there’s still a heap of mental human in ya.”
Worms (being the extremely literal creatures they are)
detest program music being broadcast into their holes.
For reasons bystanders found unclear: one man would periodically shout quite loudly: “Damn it! --  I’m not a pimp for anybody!”
One man made up the word: repugnated to describe the way he felt
(later in life when he became mildly famous, he stopped using it).
Nothing calms the blood and soothes zombies like death paying a second visit.
(As one man is fond of saying: “I ain’t down yet  --  BUT I’M TRYIN’!”)
By the pertinent by: there is a variation of the myth that says everyone at one time comes face to face with life  --   blinks and looks away,
thereby forgetting a secret they once knew:
the other version says that when a man blinks and looks away  --
he dies for the first time,
(the gruesomeness of the story seems responsible for it being the less popular of the two).
(As another chap likes to say: “I don’t mind the idea of dying  --
as long as it doesn’t turn out to be what I think it is.”)
Weird thing: people living in Shittyville wouldn’t want to go to either
Paradise, or Doubly Shittyville --  if they knew what the two were really like.
Reality doesn’t fuel men’s dreams  --  dreams do.
    (“Jeeze!  --  how come I never realized that before?”)
Life has yet to produce a mechanism in this universe that causes itself to explode.
     “Yes my boy: technology is a fine and reliable thing.................(not at all like culture.)”
 
 
 
 

Things are arranged so that within a couple of decades men's minds tell them
it is time to get serious and grow up;
it says there is more to life than getting high, getting laid and being rebellious:
it does not give details of what this more is,
but the message has its effect just the same.
Fact: In a certain manner: The collective is born mature.
    (“I’m guessing that, mature  here is being used synonymously with dead.”)
Speaking of such: The deceased too love an intimate tango.
     “Pa pa: now that they’ve brought it up:
       with whom does the certain man enjoy a spin-around-the-floor?”
“My boy: in a land where worms are the majority,
 robins do not have to be told to keep-their-distance;
 rules-of-exclusion are always for the benefit of the weak and untalented,”
and the boy instantly realized the words were about thoughts, and not birds.
 
 
 
 

In an incident possible only in the city:
a man was fined for operating a license without a business.
Life does not provide men with thoughts for non commercial purposes.
    (“You of course meant to say: ‘ordinary men.’”)
 
 
 
 

Try this question: Which is worse: wanting to be famous and never being so,
or ending up hanging around someone who is?
Now: consider the situation as one amongst your ideas   --  then what?!
 
 
 
 

In the city ballroom: The dense delight in dancing together.
Pertinent Proverb: “Banalities of a feather are drawn together.”
The safety of the herd depends on the commonplace  --
as does the sanity of a conventional man.

There is no way to gauge true intelligence  --
except maybe by silence  --
and even that doesn’t tell the non intelligent much.
    “That’s right!  If I really wanted to know what you’re talking about  --
      I’d be quiet MYSELF!”                                                (B’lieve he nailed it.)
 
 
 
 

Those who are fruit baskets
do not find their delivery to other people’s door at all untoward.
There is a totally unseen balance to affairs in the city
(one that would make even yin and yang exchange puzzled looks).

Amongst the collective:
info without metaphors is too direct,
and info with symbolism  --  too confusing,
(that’s why the ordinary talk as they do).
A carp uncomfortably thought: “I feel like a fish at a water convention,”
(a comment that even water pretended not to get.)
 
 
 
 

The hormonal infantry fights for power
 while neural generals explain that it is all over principle.
The Two Great “P’s”: Power, and Principle.
The One Great “F” (Fact): There is only one “P”.
 
 

A man with a certain personal interest in nature,
one day while gazing out upon his lawn reflected:
“If birds can bathe in dirt,
and hippos wallow in mud,
why cannot I roll about in the luxury of my own sweet mind.”
Remember: In the city, the dumb can make anything work,
and out in open territory  --  so can the rebel.
    (“I am assuming that the two have different interests in what they want to work.”)