#8th doctor amnesia

[ask-the-robo-trio]

This blog and AU is a very much a work in progress and will change at random.

This blog welcomes all AUs.

I’m making this so it’ll be easier to see in mobile. This blog is an alternate universe where Sec survives Daleks in Manhattan and the misadventures that happen afterwords.My OCs are Derrick, who’s a Dalek who doesn’t know he’s a Dalek, Bob and Steve, rouge Cybermen who are oddly chill with humanity. I also role play canon characters and ocs here as well. I’m Semi-lit. I usually play as Bob, Derrick and Mr. Clever. Magic Anons are allowed. MA: none. Event: Steve is stuck in fanf and Bird Spamton is in Doctor Who. Trigger warning mental illnesses! Verses: A AU where the 8th Doctor never recovered from his amnesia from the TV movie. Human AU; everyone’s a human.

Baker AU: Bob runs a bakery with Derrick.

Good Dalek AU: Derrick is part of Dalek society and he designs casings.

Mr. Clever AU: basically the Doctor losses the chess game to Mr. Clever.

Deltarune crossover au: This is an AU that takes place during Spamton’s Big Shot days. The actor Spamton B. Addison gets a mysterious phone call about an offer he can’t refuse. Basically Bird Spamton somehow gets him and his nephew stuck in the Doctor Who dimension.

Five nights at Freddy’s crossover au: This is a au where Fazbears Frights never burned down. Steve got there via by time traveling ball pit.

playlist playlist 2

My rules are;

Be respectful to each other

No being overpowered or auto hitting

No 18+ content. Take it to the DMs.

Use OOC marks when not RPing.

Romance is fine.

All literates are welcome.

No politics or asking for money in DMs or ask boxes or you will be blocked.

Here’s the links all of my blogs: Normal blog: https://at.tumblr.com/shadynightsweets/a2idedsiozn6

My Gravity Falls Fan Blog: https://gravityfallsfansunit.tumblr.com/

My DC comics fan blog: https://at.tumblr.com/dcmulitversemadness/fl690r40ohbc

My Muitfandom OC blog: https://at.tumblr.com/askthemutiversecom/yzczmqemj8jx

My Marvel fan blog:

My Undertale AU ask blog and RP:

My Trials of Apollo AU ask blog and RP:

[ask-the-robo-trio]

Some real 8 vibes here.

[jazzrazzberry]

call me the eighth doctor the way I… I… I uh…. I forgot what I was gonna say.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

The number of citations.....and the fact that I'm almost a hundred percent sure it's an INCOMPLETE LIST AJSHDHAJDJDKSKDJ

[shadynightsweets]

Choose your own adventure!

I decided to make a amnesiac 8th Doctor story but it’s made by ai. It’s also going to a choose your own adventure story meaning people’s choices well also get written in. I’ll also put the story in the Doctor Who comic book maker. Here’s the story so far it’s wild.

[geronimomo-spd]

bonus points if 11 sees the video and vaguley recognizes 8 but thinks he is a friend or something

Eleven: i know that guy!!

Amy: oh cool. maybe he is starting to remember-

Eleven: he was very annoying i remember. very excited

Rory: welp reminds me of someone

Eleven: who?

I like the idea of an Eleven and the Ponds story where the Doctor gets amnesia and Amy and Rory are in the TARDIS not knowing how to deal with it, and Rory suggests looking through the TARDIS records for something to help and Amy sarcastically says something along the lines of ‘what, you think we can just say “what to do if the Doctor has amnesia” and a video will just pop up?’ and it triggers a video of Eight giving a walkthrough on how to help him get through if he has amnesia.

I’m thinking he probably makes it around Liv and Helen’s time. I figure that’s about the time he’ll except that this is a thing that’s gonna keep happening (also I just really like Liv and Helen) and he might as well take measures to deal with future bouts of it.

Liv and Helen are being sarcastic in the background.

[ofutopia]

It will never not be funny to me that at the DWEU writers roundtable when they decided what makes the 8th doctor the 8th doctor they went with Amnesia.

And not the consequences of his first traumatic amnesia, no a rather burlesque amount of more and more dramatic amesia instead.

[pluralzalpha]

Random headcanons for each Doctor (classic series):

1st Doctor:

Failed his Academy exams first time round due to exam anxiety. Conversely, was absolutely fearless when travelling to alien worlds on field trips and kept getting into trouble for making contact with the locals.

His "retirement garden" isn't just some garden on Earth or wherever, it exists in its own pocket universe. He thought this would stop people finding him there. It did not.

Can't remember where he got the ring with the blue stone, but feels vulnerable when he's not wearing it.

2nd Doctor:

Spent 50 years as an agent of the Time Lords after his trial, largely in ambassadorial work but frequently on secret ops. Doesn't remember any of it.

Farts in the console room and blames it on Jamie.

3rd Doctor:

Slobs around in T-shirt and shorts whenever he's alone. Quickly changes into his fancy gear if someone's coming in.

Spent absolutely ages travelling after Jo left him, before coming back to UNIT a fortnight after he left.

4th Doctor:

Drinks ginger beer because he has an allergy to cream of tartare and it makes him feel drunk. Conversely, alcohol doesn't affect him.

He and Romana II travelled for decades together before the Time Lords caught up with them.

5th Doctor:

His favourite song is Dreadlock Holiday by 10cc.

Laid out a cricket pitch on the Eye of Orion and started a small galactic league. The Ogrons First XI came out on top.

6th Doctor:

Wore black for a year or so but got bored with it and went back to colours.

Often went to see musicals and variety shows with Mel. Auditioned for a musical once but stormed off when he didn't get a lead role.

7th Doctor:

Likes to go to pubs and cafés on his own to people watch.

The Doctor seen in Death Comes to Time is not the 7th Doctor. He's the last Doctor reusing Seven's appearance/persona. He still likes people watching.

8th Doctor:

Started counting his age over when he woke up on 19th century Earth with amnesia. When he got his memories back it was 120 years later so he just kept counting from there.

He still doesn't count certain massive chunks of his life, such as when he lived on Orbis for 600 years, so his actual age is anyone's guess.

[lurking-latinist]

my #1 mental AMV is the 8th Doctor one set to The Parting Glass. And the frustrating thing is I could almost make the vid because he does have enough of an emotional range in the movie and the key moment is of course drinking the potion in Night of the Doctor. There are more poignant moments for 'all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I can't recall' in the audios, but there are certainly enough amnesia shots in the movie and you could rely on the audience to think of the really sad bits from the audios I guess. And you could use Grace for 'all the sweethearts that e'er I've had, they've wished me one more day to stay,' she does in fact explicitly wish that. But I wouldn't be happy because I'd watch it and just think BUT IT SHOULD'VE BEEN CHARLEY.

[sparrowsabre7]

8th Doctor Main Range Audio Drama Mini-reviews

I've been listening to the Big Finish 8th Doctor stories on Spotify (the first 50 Main Range dramas is on there, plus a lot of the following "8th Doctor Adventures" stories) so I wanted to give a bit of a run down of my impressions.

Storm Warning

A solid start, classic Who shenanigans and introduces a solid companion in Charley Pollard, she's feisty and fun, but also not madly enamoured with the Doctor like so many companions can be. It makes for a fun reintroduction to the 8th Doctor, not seen since the movie some 5 years prior, allowing him more time to breathe.

The premise of humans trying to make first contact in order to steal alien weapons is tried and true but the cast elevates it and makes it more entertaining than it sounds. Lord Tamworth makes for an interesting support character, especially when his role could have been taken in a very cliché direction. The final scene sows the ongoing thread of Charley having been saved from her intended fate and the potential consequences of that.

7/10

Sword of Orion

Doctor Who does Alien/Aliens but with Cybermen and a background helping of the Android/Human conflict of Blade Runner, and it works bloody well. The initial mystery intrigues and while everything feels off from the start it's not til quite a way through that things start to make sense and align.

A more forgettable cast of characters (with many being left to be cannon fodder) but the premise is strong enough to bear out the runtime.

8/10

The Stones of Venice

Ugh. The first real dud. a somewhat tedious romp through a collapsing Venice with plot twists a savvy listener can see coming ten miles off and the longer they put off the "reveal" the more tiresome it becomes. The art curator was a fun enough support character but the upper class humans vs lower class aliens along with prophecies and a pining King leave for a very rote story that does little to excite or entertain and leaves the Doctor and Charley feeling irrelevant for large swathes of runtime, aside from use as props.

4/10

Minuet in Hell

This is more like it! A real mystery to sink one's teeth into. While it's somewhat frustrating that Eight has amnesia (again!) it works in the story's favour, weave a complex web of a narrative trying to see how all the narrative pieces interlock. Some of the performances (mainly the Americans) are a little hammy for my taste, but why make Doctor Who if you can't be a little silly for once. The return of the Brigadier more than makes up for Eight's rather limited airtime, but the audio tortures us by frequently putting the amnesiac Doctor with him but not letting them recognise each other until the drama is almost over. Nonetheless, an entertaining ride.

7/10

Invaders from Mars

A somewhat lacklustre alien invasion story, another with humans using alien tech to gain power, buoyed a little by some great performances from some actors and some truly unhinged and unrecognisable turns from Simon Pegg and Jessica Hynes doing the thickest American Mobster and Russian agent accents you've ever heard. There's also a delightfully scenery chewing turn from who I assume is Nicholas Briggs as the aliens. Nothing much of note here aside from this being Mark Gatiss' first DW script and sadly, much like some of his TV DW work, it's a lot of interesting ideas thrown at the wall, only some of which hit satisfyingly.

5/10

The Chimes of Midnight

This is it. This is the big one. A truly fantastic story, classic time loop premise but not in the usual fashion. It weaves a narrative that confuses and engages in equal measure throughout along with a lot of great work from the two leads. Has all the hallmarks of DW's best (perhaps not surprising that the writer Robert Shearman also wrote one of the all time great NuWho episodes in "Dalek" - in turn based on his audio drama "Jubilee") and would heartily recommend to any DW fan interested in getting to know the Eighth Doctor. I would say you need to have at least heard "Storm Warning" first to get the most benefit, as it ultimately centres on Charley and the paradox of her existence.

10/10

[heimeldat]

I have a question. Had you ever written a fic where the 8th Doctor never recovered from his various memory losses?

I haven't and probably shan't, because I'm not fond of the amnesia trope. There are a couple times it worked well (Something Inside jumps to mind) but overall it annoys me how often Eight loses his memory for various convenient plot reasons.

[oh-good]

12 & 13?

12) the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Okay, I almost always end up attached to the one character no one seems to care about. My number one though, in this category is the 8th Doctor. His movie wasn't good. But he was excellent and the audio dramas for Eight are great. He pulls out the sass when he's cornered. he is so put upon sometimes. he can't go two minutes without getting amnesia. He is very polite.

13) worst blorboficiation

Kylo Ren. It's probably an obvious answer but like 🤷 I did like him in TFA but the way the other films shoved its characters to the side in favor of adding more Sad Man ™️ was not good for the plot.

[riverrunpasteveandadams]

(itty bitties thickiodai all a willy wonker could fixate upon

or fuck with or over-deliberate mixes on mixes

glistening kiss wasted time fixes at face value

all under and no rutger delineated richer)

weather pack of marlboro 100’s would materialize

outta of thin air or we just happened upon a gang

of sisters going our way with just enough room for the lot

burbon boon docks out there in the emerald dixies fixities

 bonnie & laud whos father was working

wistfully willy with the police k-nine duckdog coppers

robbers too they were

even shaking the bullbury whistlers down

for the smallest nickle of the smallest

bowlpack this side of st.strawberrys

forever wine wis-constainteeming with time

the lost blue barrel-rolls & owsley’s two timings

that we saw back there on vanderbelt & whistley

 phantoms in the street flickering light posts

at witching hour once again

osolate accordion gideons copy

in the drawer at the motel six

to which we find ourselves amist

with comradery libation

mixes in with ginger speckled spots of opal rovers

royalties steely as they were bronzen

breezen with the look of a holy man

that hasnt slept in days with cheerful spritzer

up to not sleep again tonight

are you willing doctor?

(15)

 not much on the tele

sitting quietly smoking in the deli

last of the coffee

last nickel on the paper

only option now is to wait for the check to clear next tuesday

to the slow dissonant hum

of one lonely saxophone in an alley a couple blocks away

down by the liquor store

when i lived on vanderbelt

the man inside used to sell laced tobacco cigarettes

his iranian family owned that store for generations

& in the basement they would always keep

a small table for the hasiche smokers

as well as the card players

and way in the back

a little broom-closet for the working girls

 seasonal caricatures

where is your one room hideaway

your cigarette paradise

where is your thinly veiled chamber

the veneer of shallow lighting

slowly peeling away at the unforgiving day

pleasing the night walks come

still in star-twinkling amnesia like qualities

wandering circles around the corridor

unseen flashing phosphorus crawling in the courtyard

playing with forces and fae by sigil

then candle-light

& smoking mirror

(2)

 every pixel transfigured

enigmafied friend

E.T. phone home, do you read me

E.T. completely

infixtured by the night seascrolls

temporarily transported by

the fixtures of light

 illuminated in every way

perhaps transfigured

at satiation trainyards

yonder birdlike

secret stations

 lord i remember

easy though peezy perhaps

corrosive catering to the trivial

needs & laments of the zeitgeist

rolling thunder as they

were participating in

a protection rite with fire

 testing testing one two three

said the operator on speed

here we go again

said the otter to the left

storm cloud tracers

tracy chapman on transistor radios

in the drivers seat on the freeway

back from south jersey

subway skylines

subletting subcities

 hiccups from the anonymous hippopotamus

printed and pampered on postage

marked friend of the devil

return to sender

suddenly from stage left

the bender on 8th street

 thats a wrap boys- cut

or so says the cabbie

dont listen to him

hes on amyls with a bad heart

spooks from the flop house

all haunt inn

(21)

 the house on fire

whisper echoing

green books on green books

can you still believe its all for

green books and good acid

imported cargo

 imp imported cargo

starting south

we begin in houston

ending in the mighty

congo river man

a half dozen arabian nights

 now we begin the other way back

through caldonia manifolds tanquerayian

blocks and blocks of uninterupted garments

leather satchels containing el supremo

chickens feet for good luck

potions galore tiny inlet dwellings

candleside riddlers

nuancers necromancers

the layaway clairvoyant

bins of fish

every sort of fly ointment imaginable

caskets of dreams

cuban breezes chartreused and succumbed

to the tangier unmitigated lining

 however riddled with folly

be it may

handing in stained yellow papers

to a circus in juan paris

stopping by to see johnny paria

at a small roadside attraction inlet

quickly as cowboy coffee induced mayhem midways

& chickens running around with

their heads chopped off

(26)

 salmon glue

one of them shouted

a blessing in yiddish

that girl is poison poising itself

on the radio dial

 just as we pull up to Tom’s diner

one cigarette for each of us

back at the remote outpost there in the desert

the camel back importers cargo carriers

were bringing a ton of red lebanese hashish

from a trade town just north of the border

we awaited them with mint tea that steeped

deep into the night

 as well as

a gang of belly-dancers who’d been

flown in the night before

specifically for this occasion

the arrival of the red leb

patagonia

one of them exclaims

 that was my dream lastnight of patagonia

tumbled down shack in big-foots it was

reading five verses of amazonian soplar literature

& suddenly it all flowed back

images of seraphim & sirena approaching

images of some of them muddy

others all dressed well in clean white clothing

 down there the fixation then was moonshine

so every friday afternoon we would gather

preferably no less then a dozen of us

& drive out to houston paying twelve a cap

& with that we could haul enough back

to supply the entire county for a week

we did that every weekend for a decade

then reagan got elected and that was that

imported sugar cane or cherry flavored pop

was the only game in town

 so the soliders surged on til dawn

when by bask morning-light through

velvet shade they did receive the call they

had been waiting for all this time

on a pink tele- it was louise

they were down at the terminal in westport

approximately 40 minutes by auto-bus

from our remote outpost somewhere in the dunes

between the frontier & egypts southern most point

in the babeloid region, also known as Valdez*

hectares beyond the thresholds of our jurisdiction

thus we were forced to rush in by stealth

(3)

 REAL PEOPLE

TRUE STORIES

UNADULTERATED INSCRIPTION

reads the foney tabloid with

a crude pictograffiti of george bush

giving a rub and tug to a martian

on the white house lawn

 hey now all good things in all good time

he said sardonically lighting up a spliff and passing

to the left

right in the time net before the scheduled entry

into the trading panel

we had used up mostly all of our uppers on hand

during the brief but intense flash with the pirates

at new guinea

 all the variants of drug addled crux dividers walked through

these ports at at some ragged wretched time or another

however twisted or undistinguished from the periphery

slimey toadstools & the barways walked through by tangeria

hotel babblers, mind mice and the seething soup seekers

of muck and littered propheticus

 casitas burden the bourbon-bury mind sippers

like the ghosts of amulet bearing pirates

looking lately into obsidian sunglass mirrors

& the cheers-mates divides found in friar field vietnam

sinking ships & brand new quicksilver salamanders

who poisoned themselves back into

the clotted timestream by

hookwink & soft-pond tactics alone

 the souls of lost sailors &  dead shaman

sandbank dealers & a new orleans maiden-like hierarchy

holy-week brandish of sacred markers &

makers of witchcraft devised by KFC confessionals

with long-lines & tokes of datura in the middle-school-lunch

cafeteria waiting line lego rooms

filled with outrageous

arabic geometry signature

in their natures seething like

broken spanish entities

in subliminal outake

(5)

 an outline of hegemony

here in the world as it were

or was back there in the hotel rooms

at san luis cooped up on speed

who was looking out the window

and through the bubble-gummer

or cowboy boot wearer

what have you

 but you know

suddenly i felt the sudden urge

to articulate the experience

and thus here we are

gathered around a window

sunshining freshlhy

albiet were  all smoking

and talking over one another

how exciting caffeine tends to the nerves

to the ninth degree until second hour

 if i wasnt in my right mind

i might say we have a gracyth lace

of the old go fast in there somewhere no?

a tar spirit wedged beneath the tandem spirits

so tender & wavingly at lengthful & grateful

 transmigration of a phoenix

involved in certain spiritual states

including psychosis

we decided it was better to disguise

the acid casualties as clowns

to better move them discreetly from

our distant quarters in the non local sanctuaries

of psychotomimetic antiquity vis-a-vis

the grizzled backbury peyote deserts

of the mid classical maya

 until recently this was somewhat

of a simple procedure

new blockades were placed at powerspots

encrypted punto tecalotes guarding all

of our most trusted cardinal points

and thus we hired the specialist

el coyote

 the modality was as factual as

we could possibly write in

to the bloody script to begin with

gesturing towards the ticket booth

blargzeebubbed both whispering so quiet and free

buzzed of delineated cheap coffee echoing

the ugly whims of burroughs vis a vis

the tangier hashish jelly saga

 we made sure to dial in our woes

to the receptor cite

no matter how many times we hit

the croacher as as hard as we possibly could

for days on end unrelenting the charge hold

give it another minute or integer

shell load in undoubtful

smacked the lips of the tender

still sipping on hiccups and barbury fumbling

with banknotes and letters of a long exiled

main street

(24)

 loud typewriters clicks designs

im sitting there at toms diner, go figure

the lightning aint so bad after-all

cuppa joe & a side of toast

thanks betty stelmer

we went to high-school together

back in those days

 sandstone slippers & a lovely young lady

named sandy preference whisky bourbon rye

so we took our chances in a cadillac

and headed towards tangier way

hashish castles there

so says the latter

black velvet in its entirety

the whole ways home

 somewhere in that hotel lobby

smokey as it was blessed

someone complained about the speed jitters

over-sensitized now cant concentrate he complained

whole lobby sweeps silence

a pin drops

stopping for gas they go ahead

& pickup a hitcher

calls himself phantom 309

fits in with our troop just fine

 someone call sampson

somebody shouted

from a half a block over

weve got ourselves a real

space-case over here, okay?

(10)

 it started as a simple food and whiskey mission

and water too, but we’d forgotten

and soon after would have to double back

but no matter & nobody minded

it was a clear blue sky desert in surround

like the truman show or beetlejuice

we didnt question the script & ended up rolling

with the punches all the way back

to the tellers quarters

riffing off the midlife crisises of the

common-folk

fumbling with pennies & lint-like pocket minutea

pack of zigzags invokes laughter

& then the sound of choppers

war get to the chopper

claus hurry quick get to za choppa

the valley was clear and empty

there we’re people out there though

hiding in the daytime like coyotes

or used car martian lizard salesmen

from dallas

(1)

 a private room &

the return to san luis

dreams of blown out station-wagons

on the outskirts of vegas

a jalapeno violin singing us

turpentine blues on a backbury bust

a bus inching towards the edge of frisco

 someone asked him for a quarter

digging in pocket past

the lint and detritus

showing them off invoking them

back around he said

here ya go kid ya got a match?

 they called him  the contrarian

like a wino centaur

like a matchbox forgotten in an

old pair of crusty levis

like elvis’s outdated bottle

of port from michigan marked 1863

we didnt care and popped it open anyhow

 one of us decided to take that

88’ oldsmobile down to the drugstore

for a box of vicks inhalers

we snatched up the last one lucky

took out the cotton

& threw it in the fire

 blacktop singers

they snap their fingers

to the twinkling

of fallen starts

someone is playing the harp

down there on vine street

in the passengers seat of an oldsmobile

i think of her name was eighty-eight

i think someone stole the

freight-train liner

took it past smugglers cove

the only place they know we’ll never go

(23)

 the band was hot so we danced

the famous merengue

then we darted back

now we fade to black

 the was the sean shem

brother rivalry all over again

after not speaking for months

after christmas disaster

the mask of hallucinatory worry

and need not to worry

 i know how these type of sharks work

and within the fortnight daggers daggard

their way through message totemologies

but lucky for us brushed with sunspots

in legacy power nigredos

sipping stiffly on walkabout cathedrals

 and this was known so it as shown

in blows below the gut

the best we can do is an honest mockery

shipping into harbors wherein the lively

about couldnt come or refused to

or took methmolly for seven days

and turned green                              X

 turned off text messages

blocking all archonic disruptions

influctions of geltab jelousies & romances

left back in durango shipping containers

with rapturous ecstasy we knew in our

hurting hearts the compost of

secret legacy lovers and runners

who long distantly woke up like mondo mike

fucking in pools of goats blood at tampa bay

or tagging hater in the first circle k

when you landed in vegas

 neon scintilla crap tables abound

first wash was out there at baker

with the green magnet magnesium magnetism

lettered and walked in its way

foretold in sunspot illustration

all vectored solemnly&stiffly taken at face value

unable to domino sphincter cheers californian

her sandmarkers and miles of desert as feverish vision

bequeath riggamarole jerijuana stamp postages

lettering and lockinglitter bitter spitter offers

blotters left in antiquity blessedbe

 then gets up to change the cantar

only to forget our placement in

the dreamery reading

or doubt what the hell river it was

that us or quetzalcoatl come here

to speak into existence

in the very first place

 cigar breaks & walks around the savanna

layline boundaryside whisping up

memorium of the very first traversals

or the new yorkers dark night

we came here to amnesiate

(25)

 it was spring & willy nilly was working with the yacuruna again

it was holy meat week & they required a sacrifice

either swine or foul

one in the same willy thought to himself

cutting off the end of a cigarette & handing it to the priest of the clan

this tradition has long run in the family for generation after generation

he muttered twistedly half smiling

& caressing his tiny precious portion of tobacco

all of the family’s priests & priestesses chanting

the ancient hymn

whoo amei damei yaa

taking turning flipping the dial on the radio

it was the only song that was broadcast for a thousand miles

& they played it on repeat until the morning light

every morning for forty days and forty nights

some of us tone deaf after some nights

not minding whatsoever and eventually

finding the ability to fall into trance

during the deep night psalms

 flashbacks to burgers and fries

back there down in the city

the timestreams fanciful dishes

hashish from lebanon abound

martian radio stations dishing out info on

omlette russian-routlettes

taking it all in

willy at once in a buzzing storm

of confusion and confections of the city

wearing away at the teeth

gum-like bedbugs crawling at the skin of

various informants residences

with drugs hidden in baby formula

as the perfect disguise

and a cover up for the vicious gnawing craving for

possesions in pulsating-powders & arms

the screaming wheel of dervish

buzzing religious conviction both

within & exterior to the hypnagogic trances

of dreamlike phanthasma-phenomena

of its constant consumers

 building silently

wave after wave of amnesiate understanding

plunders the mind crawling the coils &

a way out of existential invalid litter departments

put on hooks for hoots

& heavy ingestions put towards rethinking

cadavers in caravans

 steeping mint tea excursions into the savanna

darkly scanning the midnight horizonal

hallucinatory ambidextrousness

looking into the aether for elephants who

possessed societies secret but learned to live outside

of it they were our masters and to them we would wildly

approach in prayer

veiled by secret integers & invisibility serums

slowly sipping in the cabana, awoken by wind

& the drifting siren of ancient chime and whirling dervish

immensities lost in the bubbling muck of disoriented history

(6)

 the lady with the fan

she cools us

lady in the catacombs

zombie siren of kennedys spark

destruction is another form of creation

the immitigate uttered from

the gutteral depths of 57th st

shem dynasties aside

 marijuanos on the hillside

god forbid its saints week

we settled up and gathered up

our rationed portions & put them

on the table out front

for everyone to see

five dollars a hit

 okay so over a beer

we went there

not to say i feel exactly better

but real indeed alive

indeed refreshed to a degree

 boo who

a damaged weakling defends itself

3 weeks after the fact

big whoop big whopper

the brother rivalry

an unmatched dynamic

(16)

 asphyxiated on dandelion wine

oh mary oh jesus where do i even begin?

sun setting on an empire is that it?

 speaking of instincts

the devils weak

beautiful express faces pass

in all the taxis of the world

back home cascadas, sleeping lamp giants

waiting in the precipice

 its just a little ways she assured the others

whilst taking a giant ripper off the

pcp packaged spliff

how strange the scintilla

she barked before cutting

all her ties, quickly skipping town

& heading for the hills

back toward kensington ways

 the midst, sand salamanders joking

in the juxtaposition of the roses

faced down and looking lightly through

the window cupboard shade covered veiling

the scintilla awaiting winter kingbury

whos bringing acid whos bringing crumpets

to a maddened tea party in the bushes

sparsely spacing out illiterate tantrums

from dross matter heiroglyphic opinions of our starbound selves

cardinal signal around & bounded to temporal fixies

immensities

heriphanies

lipid

 a from riches to rags backstory

the boston ragga

dodging bullets left and right at infinitum

clever fox of the backbury

show your scales

reveal reveal reveal i say

set in holland 1945

ringing any bells yet?

what about saved by the bell? or frasier

or fran to tell us danger dances

apart from the static

 there was the overplayed music

downgraded the bandwidth

of what just it was we couldnt say yet

we just had take a hint

then wait the usual 40 minutes for entrance

(19)

 *

 lets restart

friendly aesthetic near

the hillside depot

as they approach the trainyard hyponogogic

it is more then a hallucination

 antiquity

oh my- broken good

who’s expertise?

todo todo bien

todo bien

it was the best we c u in asia

when i come you need

yes it could be okay

 Lee RIbbenii

what- great environment

great

la grazia delle parole

yes indeed

yes indeed-

there we go

lets head south baby

(20)

 they were cranking out pure kilos of grade A

japanese chach at per kilo pennies on the dollar

there was only one person mr.pink & me knew who

knew what to do with those kinda numbers

unfortunately he was taken out earlier

that december during an incident with the

cartels in a case of mistaken identity

up in reno

 so we were then forced to move west

where folk we once considered kingpins

back home that is in vermont

had somehow blended had acquiesced here

like camouflage breaded butter                X

 fantasy island saloon,

platoons of vigor & servitude

all counted specially & coiled smooth

moves bequeath basket-cased

as it was nior’d

honored and learned nightly by sams steaks

taken up for some and down

for tuesday shmoosday others

 rutgers, gushers, marx brothers

& exploding symbols heald

& inevolving within timberside seances

pixie as they were midnight

rose-garden fauna egyptian’d

(13)

Bagwhan shree rajneesh, one of nuns begins to blurt out-

nearly stuttering and other troublesome utterances

A seizure of tounges,

“The Bagwaan she went on,

bagwhaan shree! rajneesh, rajneeshy”

we let her go like this for around 40 minutes

before finally, at our wits end with zero alternatives left

we were forced to tied her up & at

4:30 AM eastern state time Sister Anne

of the Lutheran Church of Nazarene

was given a 500 MG shot of thorazine

directly into her jugular,

unconscious in seconds &

by the time she around rose shortly after

her condition returned to safely back to base-line

( we agreed to keep an eye on her during the

the table session’s with special attention

directed toward not allowing her to drink anymore

then a single cup of daime at a time )

 it’s 10 AM on a friday,

new orleans shoppe window open,

a perfumery with side deals,

magic deals,

literal charms for sale as well as jasmine-

smoking in a bed, in a shed,

in a chevy chase canary paced place

some of us are melting in our own juices

who-hooo do you trust? blaring incessantly on the transistor

sitar, overpowering by the psilocybin-

 Callet trailed, endless masks made by the scoupel-

written in dragons blood over the doorway

unwritten invisible coffee dates with

phantoms of english antiquity

 Australian kangaroo salesmen,

ounces of bolivian marching powder sealed in a locked vessel

headed from panama across the atlantic on a three day journey

2 hostages, one illuminated port

in the dusty backbeat sagas of westports most infamous

& terrible dragstrip

officials crooked for hire, sidewalks in the customs office

we turned our heads to the Gods

a window opened from a black and yellow lit

parlor of the redlight indistinguishment sectors,

just a mile away from our stated destination

at the transatlantic sea-station

positioned in an outpost just north of the border,

we needed to make it past this kurdish checkpoint

before the dawn does-

(4)

 these little town blues

these vagabond shoes

calling clown-like ambulances

leaving 17th & 57th

headed towards geronimo blvd

with broken arrow phone calls

glasses of water rusty spoons & Busch

delivery with deliverance

we had to pick up scooter from the lot first

before we caught the itching fix in the gyre

catcher in the ryer

 like forever pushing totemic inches

past the blood-brain barrier

down there on 57th where the riversrun

with sludge veins full of muck

mindless scrolling machines allegedly

seen dishing out euphoria by the dozen-fold

so say our critics whos sweet sickness

is an itchy glaze of bologna for 50 cents a pop

all the way down to the houston-river

 would we ever make it past

the black growling threshold guardians

of the ciudad or else find ourselves

lying before dumpsters worshipping

the dieties of alleyway

& sky fixture fractions

alike us on our run to score

the perfected effervescent illumination sagas

just west of hollywood

 and the geronimo blvd highway makers

who marked a thousand lanes

to the left hand sight

a thousand to the right out of sight

a wad of hash for your time perfectedly churned

& paired with yelping cupful portions of

californian divinatory serums

seances bad sneakers and singers

albeit sneaking suspicions of hefty cuts

of the baby laxatives

 within and around the chartreuse variants

of amyl & trimethylated leisure like

substantial inheritances

nuances shiver me timber tumblefuls

whopping past portions mailed from arkansas

to our doorsteps just in time before

the jiminy cricket-like creatures spring fourth

singing a dop-op

whos gonna carry me home?

aint got sense enough to leave that burbon alone

(11)

 mixing medley in the middle with moon-light

shakey ground says the batter bear better then burroughs

into the psalmful leavings of arclights unknown

past the platoon stickers,

beyond the trash fences of romantic antiquity

the steam-files bull on and breed

betting 50 on a saulsbury steak

or some sort of chicken cutlet in the runner

left on revenge repeat

 we sung ourselves a little song

& then backed away

packing everything neatly in the caravan mirage

in the shade or else taken back by

the ever present hallucinogenic hum

be it frog-juice or pellets

of jacksons best designer brand speed

easy now said the one with the ring

& two left facing shoes

��now we dont want to get all carried away okay

but if we just splice out some sort of

small-time portion of the crumbcake

or perhaps make a brew with teatime feathers

oh the trusty teatime feathers

gets the whole gang of em up and atom

when the afternoon sun looms near the horizon

screw it day time or night

whenever she visits its a grand occasion

 upwards towards the transmigrational highway

one of them belched

passing the tonic towards his left

picking something up in the periphery

something harbored like jasmine rice

something entangled like

rustys old tape recorder

-we would take it out to los angeles

& sitting by the river all the time

waiting for betty to get off work

 then we could come home & show her

with rockabye sweet baby james on

& haight ashbury hashish jelly

of course she assumed

as she always does when we are in those states

trancelike as they were amoeboid

that this was a

perhaps the tangier go away

that would turn itself invisible like the rocks

the moment we arrived into town

 shoreside was always the same with

these gingerbread mayhem invested thunderbirders

running around like headless cockatoos

except only this time

they decided to wear dress shoes

 back at base they were preparing

for the mumification of who they could

not name in the telegram

none the less we decided to go with our mission

further into the frontier

of white speckled satiations

of unruly divide & conquering

all carefully making sure to

load our canteens to the brim with rum

before catching the ferry over

(12)

 turning the gyre ever softer towards

the ridge of aeonic millennia

we gasped at blooming artificiality paradises

instantly upon time-stream arrival indextures

tens of thousands of miles streaming stratospheric

in the butte of a moments quickening

storming us by quicksilver secondaries

 the hands of history,

fighting for informational eternity

brask, right up to the gullet in gears

fashioning the work-place

landmarked by leisure

still probing the market for the machina

still glittering down the line totemic

 concession stands for the archbishop

at the island for eels

we couldnt believe

that they burnted themselves out so quickly

we all gathering our belongings

proceeded to high tail it

all the way down the line

either oklahomian or mexicana

 hows the wife & kids

we meet everyday at the strange cafe

we meet at the strange cafe-time burial

burial time typewriter

typewritten in special membrane

the brain remembers its own name cleary

its wits vastly dialectic & innumerable

 keeps encapsulated satiated

heaped on there- gnawingly

senile, almost tumeric distanced

bequeathed beneath the rosebury

sampling simple traces

environs & aardvarks alike

squeaky and tender as the bishop promised

going gargantuately into the gauntlet of life

 lamenting over harms done

presuffixed and over time eventually delineated

to the slime like it was carnal

lime-light of west hollywood

with its fits and fashions phoenixed

egyptian magicd like the

chest cupboard kept in the hills

 working on tantrums

tidal waves of them raving hysterical

maddened as dawn, streaky pink-eye horizonal

at colt-45 walkers in tango with disco-coppers

hot on the beat and hopped up on a thursday

for almost no real reason at all

as cept to scope, callin themselves the law

vigilante justice my ass

(8)

 glamour professionals

by the rivers of babylon, its venice beach baby

writing scripts on napkins in indian ink,

kitchen sink showers (first memories of bathtime)

astoria, a hiccup in the rutter-

via confession by cinema side trails

 sipping mango juice under polaris,

are we mister potter?

the imp confessional of antiquity

snicker from the right corner

flying anvils, galaxies of amnyls,

nitrates, glycerides

marketing techniques via tangier

& west congo conch fritter

 picking up after dark

theres a fire inside the wind of the mind,

come walk with me alone, it says

now the whole gang of hyperdimensional

cast members gather tightly, close quarters

& hearing upon what has happend

to the old mans leg, he vowed

never to ride a caballo again in this lifetime

or atleast what he spoke before sweet drink

made its way around the table at

the great hall of duke

 the cinco minuto exspresso

talking political jargon

supposedly a mexican composition

done from los angeles telepathically

who could say? we had noone on hand

to verify personally, so we took

their word for it and proceeded

to donate the requested $6000 USD

needed for the bond

 after growing up

the only way they knew peace

was to return to the chaos

of upbringing circumstance

via bus-station or jukebox circlings

where’s the kid with the chemicals

an entourage of questionable characters

could they be in cahoots with the coca-chewers?

 nightingdale

a cross examination

octopi-like tendencies, gallow-like

2,3,4,trimethyloxyphenethylamine

what do ya mean ya dont like me cookin?

just another passing fix, eh?

or does G-d owe you the world?

shady grove, my little love

shady grove I know

(9)

 I couldnt vouch for leftie

i told him, look man

if you want to find savage henry

then your going to have

to get out of vegas immediately

 past pahrump theres an old dirt-road

with a blown out station wagon

rusted onto the side of the desert trench

about a half mile from the road

 its where all the vegans go

and the freakers that couldnt

make it slab-city

you have to go it alone

or they will never let ya in

 he stood and thought

to himself for a moment

contemplating the ifs

he’d been up for 3 days

on the way down from tijuana

clasping tight to the leather satchel

 cutting his hair first

then secondly make up as a disguise

a paved road pointing west

no money down

it was paid entirely in credit

they packed up the hitch

then stopped at smokeys

 we found a stray out by the highway

took her with us

we wanted to name her sally at first

but after some tequila we agreed on darcy

blues players on the am radio

right as we crossed

the county into mississippi

(18)

 paying the pod piper

is that it?

is that all you think were doing here immanuel?

siphoning bionical hyponotics

psychotic lovers of sorts

a tangoist

we recoiled & waited out our hunch

 disaster letters scattered the garage

stupendous timing, the left one

her stills sitting at home

gathering rootbark

tidying up dust off her pictures

from the guadalajara borrachera saga

now succumb to the twiddling

of thumbs & paperveiw

 not so bad after all

taking a drag from the spliff

welcome to the after after hours club

cuddle up

make yourself a drink

(14)

 wise men gathering drinking manischewitz

in the circled fountain

at the center of cemetery

down on Lutz & Vanderbelt,

 hither here, their betting on something clear

must be some sort of lunar cycle round concerning

the daughter of the rabbi- & whats this?

im getting something, their telling me something

about the queen of scotts in new york

for a wedding,

they were engaged at the pyramids & apparently

the spirits followed them all the way

from those catacombs hibiscus scented lettering

on all postage sent during the brief but intense

time they shared together in giza

 we hence fourth proceeded to down and out drown

ourselves in a sort of giant pool of margaritas

ah yes, full gang in company alliance

we couldnt pool it all in without a bbq basket

of easter eggs & pints of aether

some for ourselves and of course

a dashing ration for th fellas back east

(7)

 heres a sandian fully

who translates themselves

into gibberish hymns

heres a telecaster with an iron heart

falling again for the damsel in distress

experimenting with cardiac typhic fever

 rippling with exponential dopamine hits

oxytocin out the whaa-zoo

a thickening sludge like quality

spills across the temporal landscape

& after some years no effect

at the finger tips & extremities

come the decade and a half mark

sadly no effect at all

 packing the bags toward sicilia

where the tormented sagas had begun

back there at bar stool love affair

where whiskey with beelzebub

dressed us tango and took us for

love-fools around the ringer margarita

 tri-ad of lux intermediaries

egyptianism believers in crux

& crocadirro headed entities alike

like light fixtures opalescent

by the horizon lines at dusk

woozy and tactile like in their demeanor

never skipping a beat

& darting up the ley lines to latitudes

just south of a texas free for all

(17)

 papelito del computadora

honey made me

statues incubating amoebi

sand dollars sand dollars sand dollars

last call no deals

  squealing salemen

mile runners hobos

& the elderly

all gathered hastily

in red valley california

we pulled into town deep night

the evening before

woke up by the side of the highway

in an inlet near the woods

  some poor fella living in a campsite

not far off the road

comes asking to barter

food if i had it

because they had all the marijuana

they could ever smoke

but were short on munchies

i checked the reserve & did a quick inventory

whilst ransacking the rig

in search for lost totem from africa

which recovered shortly after

  however met its fate on

an evening that july in the depths of summer

first pass through taos new mexico

a fare place to part ways i suppose

letting go of sentimentality

ridden objects redirects the focus

on an inner remembering

an inner knowing of powers

  easy to say when your free

but upon stumbling one wakes up

to find a wise mans blessing

brought by horseback beneath

a shooting star yet again

granted only of course

on the assumption on the fact

that one makes his way back

  casket-cases filled with budweiser

wasted minded billionaires recoil backwards

staggering into the work bench

but not on impulse or to search for

a desire lost in ethers of childhood

back there a thousand lifetimes ago

in the shmegma where we lost our head

my head ended up on datura beside the highway

benzedrine lake and all the hiccup ghosts

we tamed nightly by the cross-reaches

of our hometown & the beach that was

accessible fifteen minutes

  small runs down to the corner store

to purchase truckers speed

that same poison of the desert here too

then there too

gigantic myths that we use like

a snake who self germinates

to write the world in its way

to tell our myths

(22)

[ofutopia]

8th doctor my beloved.

Your pepertual amnesia is why I relate with you. I've been taking meds for chronic pain and various anxiety disorder for 18 yrs.

And the memory loss is palpable.