The 2 am shuffle dance

An extraneous talking point, self certified was attempting to breach the walls of the dead in their deep caverns to walk them up the wall of his dreams; but his efforts fell on deaf ears and nothing came of it.

Turning his attention elsewhere where the doom was less thick he saw through the mirrors of injustice the dead dying by the thousands in the jaws of the machine; and raging, he found no relief.

And then from very high up a voice called down: “Oiy, you down there, what’s all that noise you’re making?”

“I’m trying to wake the dead,” replied Hashimoto from his darkness.

“Well, do it quieter, you’re keeping me awake.”

And with that said the wind picked up this part of the story and blew it away until there was nothing left of it but a memory in the akashic records that was no memory at all in the mind of the shadow.

It has been proven that death kills...and scientists search the dead for god's shadow, while the rest of us in our few moments scratch our souls in the windows we glimpse ourselves in.

It's funny how it happens where so many cry foul and everyone's heads turn, and then the sheep cry something else and everyone's heads turn the other way...must be so amusing to those in power to see the blind mouthing off in the blindness...

It seems that anger has a way of throwing you off the scent where the dead moan and have no idea.

But I am not here for this, or that, or anything else for that matter...and what is the matter? Well, I guess we all want to know that, don't we, as the darkness comes to the light to be revealed for what it is not.

And now we come to this, that jewel that shines for us all, where we must pick and choose what we want to be in amongst it all...where time has no meaning except to excel...and then, as I was sitting on the moon with despair in my hair I thought of a poem:

And then love fell through my fingers of where I knew, and not a thing I could do about it

So I asked: where is the moon tonight?

And they said: it is shining over the ghost dance where it longs to shine so much to be…

And now, guess what, in all the shining?

(I said this to myself, and waiting for the answer to come through…)

And riding on the moonlight fingers came what I longed for the most…

Look: love, that fell through my fingers, it comes back for me…

And then as I remembered, momentarily, it began to fade; it was too elusive to be caught in a memory, and without a mouth full of language to explain; well…

Before I could think anymore a foreign wind blew from out of the ole place never mentioned and headed south towards Sausalito with a huge grin blaring wildly for all to see where it met a madman on the loose for the day who had a tooth on the hop that would not sit still inside his mouth for all the words in China and was calling: hoo-ha, over and over again.

The foreign wind was a bit subversive and carried a big stick to use most frequently on any not quick enough to get out of the way. But the madman was most cunning and called out: “Oh yes, it’s the 2am shuffle dance all the way upstairs.” And so off he went still crying hoo-ha to dance away his troubles.

Oh do wake up, you, there at the back.

Now, way down in the harmony where the awakening was happening everyone had gone to the ghost dance and the place was deserted.

Oh, who would know about this?

Never mind; now I shall skip over the silver sand skip tones to be holding moments still upon this and all other things foreign and domestic give or take what we’ve never said before…

Ah, grasshopper, it’s you again; where have you been hiding?

Up my sleeve sir.

And what were you doing there dear one?

I was shimmying sir.

Very well, carry on.

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