now is 11/9-day one-(to a port-a-potty)finally the gate's ajar and it will all pour out in stinking dancing screaming streams of violence and uprooted energies:  so be the start of the next saga, the movement of the monstrous US.
witches squat along the moonroad, inscribe the pentagrams,incite the dark hearts into frenzy, invite the terrified to "Look HERE!"  for all our centuries of showtunes, of cowardly lions achieving valor eating little yapping environmentalists along the twisted forest paths, the coda to the finale rings out:  French horns trumpets tympanies--
we in the chorus catch a breath, expel a single "Om" and stretch to catch the light from the sunship and bounce it into the streets where children ignore the message, entranced by the medium.  at last we shall know just when the Wheel expelled the hypocrites, the Tower threw them to the Earth who absorbed their bones and atomized their empty hearts for recycling, the Fool leapt on out ahead, afraid of only staying put, waving and beckoning us to change and transform to undo this spell.  namaste,goldenrod