TO @URIMINZOK AND @POTUS

Just kidding.  Paintings, sculptures and other depictions, aside, the Creator’s Angels are not now, nor have they ever been, winged … creatures. Dictators however, may fare, better, depending upon, decisions taken, THIS WEEK or next. No kidding, on Twitter. cc: @uriminzok @potus

Art’s just a greeter.  A mere babe next to his younger brothers, Kim and Don.  But Arthur, like babes, brings out the best in men.  In brothers and sisters.  In fathers and … mothers.

Art greets, professionally:  Imagine Kim (@uriminzok) thousands, nay, millions, of tweets from us.  Tweet:  “Honorable Kim:  Greetings, upon New Year’s, from US.” Greet by, tweet.

Tweet to them (Don @potus too), greetings, tweeted.  No talk of any issues, substantively.  Just greetings.  If ye tweet, treated at long last may be a long, self mistreated … humanity.

On Presidents Kim and Don.  And, believe, it or not, on making … Urantia … great … again. Sure, it’s implausible but believe Art and not, Kim and Don at this stage of Act III … again.

That is to ask, as a bluebird, in fact, tweeted Art, on that day, tweeting, “Tweet, Art, on lies and on how best to evolve to to be, as a community, tellers of truth and not, tellers of lies.

Rex defends State’s policy, during Donald’s first year.  Predictably, Donald’s Secretary Rex defends Donald’s policy.  On Tillerson’s last days as the Donald’s very next secretary … ex.

He’s touting gains in pressuring (?) Kim, battling ISIS, sex fiends and Vlad’s, blackmailing, sex.  Sex.  Sad.  And, great.  “Sad,”reports Buzz, Art’s cyber-spy-fly that Don, said, lying, in

bed, and lying, too … to whomever, on the phone, he was, talking to. “Ain’t it sad … sexual aggression may be a crime.  Call Judge Roy.  He knows.  He’s a judge and predator, sexual.

 It is happening.  Again, and again.  And over, and over, again.  And Art smiles, to himself. At Mike’s man … in the mirror … he smiles.  For some know Art, as Mike, mirrors himself.

On connections invisible, between people, places … and things.  And their …  happenings.  That we can’t see them and can not otherwise appreciate them affects not … happenings.

On writing a stream of consciousness; when, “what’s happening,” is not, just … one thing, but, inconceivably … many.  On writing a stream of consciousness, in a ball of confusion.

Ye may perhaps sense, albeit, ye could not know, how Art’s feeling artistically, if the three tweets were all ye had, to read him. HOLD THE THOUGHT! They think, “That cat’s crazy!”

 “Sup wid dat Rican cat, Art?  Goes on and on, about being a Jew.  And Christian!  Muslim, too!  That’s for starters.  Claims to have returned from a 40 year-long, desert wandering.”

“Art claims so many things.  He’s just gotta be  crazy.  Places, he’s been to, races he’s been, and Penemue’s (Pen’s) heart stopped.  Then, his heart … of a sudden, began racing, again.

“Pardon me boy, is that the Chattanooga Choo-Choo, Pen, asked of the boy, grabbing, him. And, where can I find that wandering, Muslim, or Christian, or Jew,” now … shaking, him.

“He ain’t, none of dem, things.  He’s all, a dem.  And all da, races, at da same time, I’d say,  he’s said.  Says, he’s all a dem, all da time, I tell ye.  He’s crazy, for sure, I think … I’d, say.”

Penemue’s a Watcher.  A Watcher of (wo)man.  And between them, woman … especially. And came A Fall, autumns past.  And with Caligastia and Satan … many fell, precipitously.

On streams, of consciousness; and writing, pursuant, to them, with life-like … distraction, attractions, reactions and all physical and metaphysical things, concurrently, happening.

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