my chemicals
are rebels
there is a war of the alphabet and numbers
mostly double digit C, H, and O's.
but now.

forvever meets tomorrow.

tomorrow meets today.

shake hands burning hydrogen and frozen carbon slate.

it is all just empty space.

some one said "big bang, or i supposed BANG!" and people mobilized in masses to protest things that are plausibly certain, they grew into themselves thumping a God leather bound at the argumentative men with electrostatic hair and circular spectacles. The ones with gray matter that slurs a monochromatic world. it is fine and decent! said a hoeniker. this was just an illusion of the first occasion of lies. for he had been introduced to the seduction and pillaging of peoples good intent since childhood. it was the quintessential hand in the cookie jar redux--ironically it was the hand rather than the face that turned the brightest of embarrassed reds. it was almost so comical that even someone as esoteric as me could laugh. and i did. i said, "it is a pity", then pointed my finger and thought to myself, "this is what the midwest does to embellished souls...it makes them criminal" of course, every good parent knows how to deal with a cookie theft, ground them. what a whimsical, novel, thought. incarceration. indeed, enforce the federal confinement method, assuming guilt always. Oj got away. "its a pity" indeed. but what about the origin and end of the world i asked. we steadily work to its end while arguing about its beginning. curious. i said, but what if we discover the end before the beginning, then BANG! would be appropriate on more than one level--mostly because it provides a iconic onomatopoeia of suicide and also enlightenment. though i think the former is more valid. regardless, do you not believe it will end up this way" i said. hoeniker was a brutish man. his eyebrows always overgrown and nearly as mad as he was. always pensive too, yet you would never want to know what genre of super cell was bellowing about behind those stale gray slate eyes, sometimes i swear i could see the lightening illuminate his pupils--though they looked like death 99% of the time. He answered, "spiders and lemings". i supposed that meant he ardently cared not. what he really meant was people are fickle, and uncompromisingly inane. we are stuck with in a trap yet one after another, they line up to be bamboozled by the same shoddy trickery, the same carnival smoke and mirrors. you can stretch anything until it breaks i suppose. anyway, hoeniker was a bastard, a damn smart one too. he told me "it isnt about discovery, its about stagnation" so he died a stagnant man. i think he meant longevity, but stagnation makes sense too. someone is always bound inside their bubble of western, eastern, or middle eastern thought. some how its always the west's fault. BANG!. i realize now that all the discover amounts to nothing, because of the simply principle of spiders and lemmings. you are stuck in a circle, follow everyone to the next rippling ring and though things are easier to understand from afar, and you know all about the predicate circles, you still know nothing, its merely stagnation. hoeniker was right. he lived both lives--he was a scientist after all, i wonder how far out he got. he told me when he was a child he lived in europe, africa, asia, and even antartica. despite all his travels both corporal and intellectual, he became stagnant, and died that way. what a statement, what a death. BANG!, just like that. you can never wonder then where we came from, it is quite evident-stagnation. where we go is stagnation. for both imply in some odd humor that all the work that goes on is to move from stagnation to attain stagnation. you go there anyway. living is a tautology i suppose.