Well don’t edit me. Please. I probably need it, but I’m not seeking your subjective point of view at the moment. I just want to free flow like the ocean. Conscious undecided decisions. Offshore tax havens, That’s what’s on my mind. This ain’t a blog.
Or poetry. It’s what’s on my mind. Susana Martinez, is misrepresented in an artificial exact stone carving kind of way. Martin Heinrich, Steve Pearce, and Tom Udall as well. Lujan Grisham. She’s gone fishing. Somewhere up in the Pecos. I’m telling you. This ain’t a poem.
Nor a blog. Just free thoughts. On the present way we’re living. Take it. Or leave it. I guess I’m more creative than I thought. But still 100% brainwashed. Military mindset. Is how they programmed me to be. Jessica Lynch.
I said this before. Nasariyah. It isn’t a code. Or anything but reality. She was a distraction. From all of the death. This ain’t a poem. Or a blog. Just truth. For you to hear. We decimated those people. Like Erdogan does today.
Obama and his drones. And the death and decay. It’s real. this ain’t a blog, or a poem. Just my thoughts on . . . reality. Those little kids. Didn’t have to die. They didn’t. It’s true. But you blasted them too. Just like the walking charbroiled man. The pancake in the sand. I’m not trying to rhyme. I’m doing the best I can. To tell it how it is, or was, or exactly what happened.
Nomad tents. They called hajis. Desperate to kill. They trained us. To do just that. And continue. To do it again. Over and over. Boot camp, death grip, freelance gym. Not a poem. Or a blog. Just information, for you to consume. Eat it up. However you like. It’s just reality, in words I write. You shouldn’t like it. I hope you don’t, but please, come back for more.