excavating manhattan in the year 2030

All the civilizations and past lives are buried beneath us because they did not hire enough people to keep sweeping. Had they hired enough sweepers, we would have all the treasures of the past among us. We have the street sweepers now, machines, but they go about sweeping the roads which have paved over the past. Shouldn't we all be digging down into our gardens, down into the deep to unearth all the treasures? We all know how. One of the first things they gave us was a bucket and a shovel and a sandbox and naturally we began digging. In two hundred years all our treasures will be buried with us, and the future will be walking on our graves! Sure, some of the treasures will be exhumed and put on display. But what about your heirlooms? What about your creations? Like rings of a tree, the superficial layers of the earth if taken out by cross-section will tell of our lives and our tragedies. In New York City, in the year 2310, someone will excavate Manhattan and find that one thin ring of chalkdust from nine eleven and put the pieces together again so nothing will be lost on the timeline. On either side of that ring will be the slick almost watery syrup of the life and times of the most powerful nation on earth. I'm sure my grandmother's ballet slippers will be in there. And not far from that, ashes from my grandfather's cuban cigar. There will be reams of paper mulch on one side, and the other will be tested for trace amounts of silicon and plastic. The movement from the daily morning predawn paper delivery boy to the bloggers and vloggers logging onto their apples. The countryside will have imperceptible layers of poisons in the corn, and fluoride and pharmaceuticals will test positive all over the cities for sure. They will have to really work to determine why we brushed our teeth so rigorously back then. I mean now.

votive free of motive -ii)

We flipped a bitch after we passed the ethereal fields. We lay on that plane for consecutive hours. Then we sailed due north, cranked the crankshaft, released the nitrous oxide, dropped in the half and half. We sweated out our pores, and the perspiration thickened to consistency like glue. Deceased lay the toxic in the flower beds soaking.

We poured out all our liquor at the site. Our immune systems sent white blood cells, to seal in the heat. We burned the white sage, and the ceremony was alright. The spirit agonists and antagonists came out of the shadows. Volatile, caustic energy was dispersed. All energies and vibrations came together in mixed signal. The candles, they flickered and danced. Just a little.

The earthbound ones brought their demands. And the otherwise unidentified trio dissembled -- into innumerable grains of sand. Into parts and human hearts. To be ID' D or dare i say carded, by the keepers of the trees who suddenly started to sway. They leaned into the wind. They stayed like that, all fucking day long. Swaying and dancing and flexing their roots. Swan song. Suddenly started blossoming like apple bottom jeans on the strip. Shooting out shoots. Scoring pharmaceuticals on every corner. What a trip.