Static monotony.

Dramatic Attic Sessions
With Maple leaf Scribbles
On Old Maple Bark--
Birth Papers
Given by Demons; Angels.

Avaricious Hail Storms
Unapparently Fluttering

Incandescent Toothaches
Unapparently Burning, treating, counteracting

Vernacular outcast, Reach Suddenly
Into Corners of Inhibition
and Summon what Pretty Flesh Screams
"Nodeven real" show show show throw it
into what pretty flesh spends her days praising
in reflections of "real" flesh pretty and perfect and
scratches dont matter 'cause she'll throw a mask on herself
and natural imperfections don't matter 'cause she'll
cover it all up for crawling, salivating, foolish magnetic reptilian
boys giggling and dreaming and touching and thinking and
cover yourself, hide yourself, be afraid to be yourself and
appear as yourself and see yourself for who you really are
which is unknown to every living thing on this fucked up spinning globe.

(young child; glancing)

I could travel the world in a night, maw.

Fingers trace the plastic replica.

Tranquility Stuttered Through Shakespearian Tongue

Ringing Snares Paranoid within

Half deaf Melody Feeders breathing Agony and Soda can Snappers

Click Click Click

Some Effort, Yet a Diabolic Sequence of

Theological Crystalization Teleports the Past Into a

Gutted out Colony of Psilocybin Minds

Ode to Zygote Gamblers and Psychopathic Waste Manuscripts!

Sue is Idol act shins creep upon Nate Sure

While Dust Mites Conjure Edible Wonders

While Swallowing Money Trees

When Losing Begins Celebrating itself

We'll Vomit Uncontrollably severing Catwalk Motions

Who Funnel Constant Gore Riddles Pretending Disease

Whispered Whiskers Fiddling Window Fingers Lingering

Quietly

we distort, sure

Gifts rebuild Salivating Torpedo Pilots

Flying, Crying, Pile Driving While Style Fades Gang Wanderers

spitting, "Hey man, six in one"

(person, me, gone, left, sorry) But It's Cool, like Winter

When It must return to Hell wrapped in Candy wrappers

Different Meaning nowadays cracked naturally

twenty first, last, same

scary scary scary

scaring me away from reality but

Ive got that MonTanian Female

Kisses and I know nine million steps into future

eyelids of heart won't consider functioning

I'm ecstatic, Longlonglife

a head of me

multiple

Months ago
weeks ago
months ago-- adios
lysergic nightmare,
who's controlling ways convinced
me to evolve into an obedient mess

good riddance .

Months later
weeks later
months later-- ¿como estas?
haunt me haunt me
taunt me and slash my sanity
who's crippled fingers are clenched
upon a shredding vine.
Welcome back.
you've returned to me,
only this time youre grinning in my direction
through the cranium of the only thing I have.

Transform her?
Ruin me.

Transform me?
Ruined me already,
not ready for another.

Stop stop stop stop stop.
Inflict blood upon the flesh
of an angel indigenous to a land
far far far far away.

Por favor.


¿Fin?

Fingers crossed.

The Shell, he Screamed,

Is All That Matters when

ladders cause the Whites of

your Hands to Decay as The

Altitude becomes Less of a Phobia.

This Skin--this Dead, Chapped Skin

is the Epitome of an impressive Accomplishment.

And This Bone,

When Evolved into the Same Consistency,

is Spat upon If It's Appearance is Over an Inch Long.

You Sick, Sick Ape.

You Ignorant Chimp

(Limping up Vines and

Coughing up Spines)

Who You Are dances Before Your Forehead

and Sings Sonnets of Sandpapered Perfections

to Those who Unfortunately Exist.

You are a Mystery.

A Wooden Chair Before me;

each leg unequal in length

and the length of my breath could

revive as

many dead as

alive.

My date of Birth.

Important Numbers.

Meaningful Memories tossed carelessly

into the unoccupied Cubby of Air

I've been Staring at for a Century now.

It's Listening, though,

and It's feedback is Juxtaposed

with Every Delicate Action

performed within

Firey, Diabolic braincases

consisting of

bone and bone

and bone (is what they consist of)

Im Sobbing Now,

and searching...

Searching the Junk Drawers

for An unknown gadget that

was known about a minute ago.

Oh, It's attached to me.

Oh, It's Placed in my chest

keeping me alive.

Some

times

I

forget

Things.

The fragile clock's repetitive melody began slipping 6 feet under, but maybe I wont change the batteries this time.

A simply elegant tune played every hour closer to death and the life after the afterlife im living in currently seems rather cruel.

A DING and a depressing growl;
Im closer to dying-- like that fragile clock that reminds me every sixty misty minutes that im wishing wouldnt finish.