Quan Tum Jung

shadows, dusty dancers

lunar thrust of our partners waltz

realigning us, until human love is our purpose and our resolve


buddha of the race

we were children. sprinters of the school. back when the winner of the race was fastest to the finish line.  it’s different today. the slowest to the finish line is crowned victorious, last one there wins. on your marks, get set, go! someone challenged me to a race of this nature, a long time ago.

i. 3.8010 — ‘phoria

no one can stop the babblin’ ,  ghost of  ‘ol John P.

dial 1-88 complex Sabbatical,  thoughts toboggan out a spiel machine.

magna-data reels steam rolled, repaved by the tao Te ching.

we hide in forests til the War breaks out. House of spades. Blade of the Queen.

lean back, listen to the Moon telling me to gas up a lantern.

I see your ante, raise you eleven of these pretty chips.

I will hold your hand in this Vortex.

Hot Gargantuan slum of millenium kids

Iron maiden media mash-up

meta-chimp metropolis

iteration 3.8009 — Chasing Statues


my mannequin won’t close his eyes. histamine season of the Labyrinthian aqua Lounge challenge. Team Hemisphere vs. Dogs of Communion. lawn mower men hover in the buzz saw pavilion. Tilling drone gangs, pseudo-souls, rake fertile fields…  I love my calender girl, especially when she tops my score in Contra. Bullet Spread. Shield. Cissy Sam throws another star spangled hissy fit. the park is alive with broken protein chains. drifting, of existence, human hairpin turn.

iteration 3.8001

beware. Son o’ Swill. pelt of the pompous yang cling to the gemini yin. Curator of hand-woven Buddha bindles deliver our meal rations for the winter, bundled in wilted foils. I stalk the garden’s ivy hall like a harlequin bobcat clown alone in the chaparral. Let us give it a go, an old college try perhaps. Just one magpie profusely. Mushi-shi Jelopy.  I’m first to Spazz proper at the velveteen sunrise. My feet sink into nature’s easel. Chiesel. El nino aches as a bastard for a surrogate. Hetchy breaks into a sweat of a cold barrier, dank of vespre…and swing do the merry leopard men on a Harley ride to Modesto.  Rendezvous at the See-Saw. half-lings pronounce a Hee Haw haw. What a rebel she is, deflecting turncoats, o’ each and every, doused in Jurassic jelly reclaim, thrown into the spokes of a rickshaw. regular Quickdraw McGraw of the playground, puppeted by etchings of nocturnal Viola jumpin’ beings. jive on. Whistle while widdle-work-riddle-scythes might chisel me a Scrimshaw.

Oscillating, return to ground zero…the final iterations of 3.xxxx

fit of the scope                                                                                                                                      neo-miners of electric streams, storms of our dormitory, warm beams of smother, colliding with each other,  K.O.’ed and collecting in vulgar troughs

Slashed at Noon by 10′ tape                                                                                                                  pollen box of chamomile. tiny tea sails of Darwinian wayfarers

pit of the grape                                                                                                                                  botanical refugee. color-blind to the chlorophyll, to the bark. the color of my mind is maternal blue in the dark.

Saloon red furs loom harness feathers of a loon

pen o’ tha vape …ribbons made of sun…streak the skylight perfectly in line with the scars on my body

An arch eye is a key to the chastity of a mighty moon.  I seek to silken Sednas comm-link center seamless. seasonal schematics of the small surface skimmer. Her technology has touched me awake to fragile guises. 

I’m a chemist of personality traits. Bunson Burner Betty, ford Clinique

tie my hair back,  puff on juicy jack ’twas a creeper cone.   courtesy of the ‘sco.      Mina birds of the background drop symphonics that play along to a woodblock knock of another bird pecking palm frond lattices. tramples over silent song of a comet. ad infinitum rise do falsetto frequencies, oscillator dog whistles of the cosmos 

Quite a quandary we’ve found ourselves in. O’ if everything was transparent. No thing can ever be exactly what it seems but an enigmatic Matryoshka dressed in cold iron questions.  What lies beyond the epoxy?  Does micro-sealant make a curtain call?  How does one nurse the subtle nature of a soft ground zero? What is Mk IV?  we’ve been collecting pieces for what looks to be a network of training temples, or then again it could be a portal….Perhaps the puzzle be better ascertained: Who is Mk IV? Although such answers allude us, we know how to get there. I’ve got a vessel. Now all I need is a captain and that no good dirty iteration machine. 

It’s time to build the door.



I love the smell of calculus in the morning                                                                           alpha tween showin me the rope swing commotion.                                                  kids that code in cursive

Hot specks of cobra molt emit from the millennium edition papyrus                               we dance still, the archaic form, when ours was a pulpy parchment.                             glutinous flapjack tablet

children chisel into micro-screens. beta queen, blue eyed vega preen, fem-bot revisited.  Meet me by the river, absolve time. space. size.                        all relative confines                                                                                                          wade of Neptune                                                                                                                  together in the soak

 mind my tether as we tumble further allows the spray.  beads of sweat collect beneath your childhood complex.   wake of my animation does of your facade                  broken dawn dissolves

Spider Iris unfurls her wings and flies once again through the reflection canyon.  Red dust settles on the jagged spans where everyone stands just to watch her soar.  Argon bridges form as we gather in awe of the arc master, bathe in splendor each Her iteration splay. Dog-eared mezzanine patterns play upon Saturn’s grandstand as glass pylons absorb semitone ricochet. Iris is perplexed tho somehow in resolve. Silver tannic minstrels climb as vines that source from the river porch…..20/20 honeycomb puzzles is the dance that becomes us…splinter of the torch fractal….Prism is the unveiling splash that bathes us in her waterfall .