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 1Hundred7

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HEAD GONE
 The Harley Gang turned the corner near the bar both of them were hardly a threat together they were mean all right but seldom acted without orders on there own they took directions from the HEAD. The Head was secreted in the computer used in the TOWER. The men scared a few passersby and almost stopped when they noticed the Christian at the bus stop. The Head of the Christian was all white seeming made of wool he shined in the night unafraid of bikers bars of any kind the mark the 666 has been in use for many months and he can not keep his freedom much longer he spits long and hard at one of the bikers. Be careful old man the biker snarled you knoe we aer teamsters we aer bus drivers we aer druggies and dopers and drinkers at the bars we aer very rich men little old Christian. We make the rules the men around here live by but you refuse to knuckle under to them we should kick you in the bus stopped suddenly the old man boarded and sat apart from the riders there as he sat he smiled and then he laughed a little in his power he was almost like a GOD to them they hated him. They scorned the dollars that he spent the coins he finds on the pavement of the tarmac of the city the scrounger rides the drinkers ride the bikes. The corner turned and loomed before the biker that had spoken in the rough and ready manner to the Christian. He sailed up on the sidewalk and crashed headlong into the window of the car lot office making lots of noises. He managed to escape the fire but his feet were smoking and the Christian on the bus just nodded his old head and frowned not able to laugh and dance when his enemies aer in trouble but the LORD that made him wants him to be different then them inside. The other biker got off of his bike and knelt in the dirt and prayed. Perhaps he will convert to JESUS. The old man still goes to the liberry and cahts with his violet flower she is unaware of how soon he must depart this world for Heaven. He manages to keep his love for her it is made of purple longings mermaid drownings dragonfly yearnings and all manner of wonderful good things wrapped up inside him they constitute his heart every word he utters when alone at night is parme colored infinites of wishing she were with him at the moment that he plays but the happy that he is that she is home and safe. Today was easter eye went into the park and preached they could not here me they ignored the message of the GOD that sent me the time to come for them to sleep they embrace the teachings of the devil and live for profit and for mammon never understanding the prophets of the end of time have come the Old man the Christian is now becoming one. His hair is still some dark not entirely white and he is young in love imagining his life in arms of gentle ardor in the grass on the picnic blanket the hands just being held and kissed by the ewe she who loves him she it is who loves him overcoming all objections to the rules of life as she loves her dandylion man her poet and her friend. The bikers climbed the TOWER steps. The flaming 666es on the computer screen was blinking on and off for three years now in need of maintenance the students of the TOWER long asleep in tombs the working of the airlocks on manual no one to witness the hatred of the men as they related what the old Christain has done to them. The answers to the men was envelopes full of money they took them both quite gleefully and the brand new bike was waiting at the end of a ramp for the man that had lived in the crashed firestorm come.  A hard rasping sound from the speakers of a long unused modulator a voice not unlike Darth Vader come saying “Leave the OLD Christain now to me.” In the corner of the center of the town square will soon be the guillotine the answer to all people who want freedom and religion the answer to the people that refuse the mark of the beast the 666 the answer to all people who refuse to fight and still say JESUS.


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