Ai3 Indigenous Servi Group

The futures future is made of frozen golden pixels

Mold produced by mislead fresh

Past thoughts crumble slowly captured in the now and then of

Phlegm with in my pen

The proof is in a letter hidden in a document drowning in

An ocean of trapped words standing up on a littered canvas a mental sandwich dripping with mayo

U can see it when I paint perfect memories portrayed as a poem

I have unlocked an ignition that opens chambers of imagination

Young Elder say's

We Be Twisting Caps

The future melts only to be refrozen in time frozen in our minds

refrozen in history frozen on paper

Frozen though thoughts around claims that produce pixel molds frozen to membranes of the slightly insane future...