Entry 8 of 25 Passages from : “Imitating Snowflakes 107.5”

Authors note: You may find it helpful to go back to entry 1 of 25 Imitating Snowflakes. Just so you can understand the bigger picture. Then just scroll up and see the story if you like. Just a thought.

I am M.R. Tist an artist accused of several crimes, but actually not guilty of any of them. Truth be told I tried to use a negotiator to help with the issues in my life concerning my son. I ask a local Reverend to assist. She according to my lawyer was now one of my biggest nemesis.

Abuse of power from the pulpit, to the bench of a judges desk pretty much summarizes the case at hand. However the case gets bigger and the covert operations grow immensely in this psychotic cross-country dragnet.

Unfounded paranoid buttons pushed the panic code red.

Smoking man lets call him Big Red.

It won’t really matter he will probably be found dead.

Cover up cover up, we knew he was screwed up.

12 years no threats, 12 years no actions of regret.

No institutional behavior, no anti-american stance, not yet.

Watch him dance beneath the moon howling into the wind gonna find him guilty and or dead.

Hey Feds. here is a poem I wrote for ya.

Drugged out psychotic induced illusions of paranoid delusions secret agents and secret codes inside their heads.

Infested infestations of multiple manifestations from sound minded patriot playing the so called patriots.

Ride with me, watch me, take a picture of me as I jack-off with a banana. I’ll talk to you and together we will take a hike just me and you.

No book but a hook caught a Fed at the side of my bed. Got the Feds on the read looking into books of nothingness watching me pee.

No naked lunch, only Feds for brunch. Smoked filled lungs and a burnt tongue flatfoots not so nifty.

You watching me, and recording me watching you.

Beat beat beat the Feds aren’t beat just dead on their feet.

Well ok then that was different. One evening I decided it was time to take this tag team of surveillance puppies for a long walk, or in this case a road trip. I thought ok then if you think I am crazy lets drive a hundred miles in the middle of the night to the State Mental Hospital just for a view and something to do. I mean seriously screw you.

I M.R. Tist are basically being messed with by religious leaders in the community abusing their influence. A reverend who has defaced her robe and shit upon her own flock. Like a lamb led to slaughter she turned her back,made me a lamb rack.

The small town judge had a narrow prejudice view of life from his one horse town. He played out his own personal forum of justice from behind his bench, no other inquest,one judge, the ultimate best. Judge Newt. of Oldson Falls just ask him he knows best.

The issue that comes to fruition is the mixture of church and state. Another issue for M.R.Tist is the mixture of psychology and religion. The battle of true spirituality, morality ,and justice, verses injustice.

Abuse of power and prestige in your capacity amongst your community is a grave injustice on humanity.


3 thoughts on “Entry 8 of 25 Passages from : “Imitating Snowflakes 107.5”

  1. Mercy me, affluence be, your heart takes a candle explosioning me. Like a Yes, can’t contest must confess being still, enraptured catastrophes yours and I will. Keep and keep keeping on, reading lonely heart’s song, his trials and much tribulations I’m told but he has what a wonderful -ness, being bold. Take that, trickster taliban twit-witted few, no grand BI effing can this man undo. Who are you? Who am I? Neither matters, not still; I’ll gratefully listen if speak on you will.

    Whatever it is that you choose for your lunch. Gasping for air, they shall be. Just a hunch.

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