The End

Higher thru the ceiling still

of course their so very fond of hanging. Around

this time of Midnite discourse, aesthetic appeal

counts for naught. Bringing the sunshine to disagree

these hall ringing such subject melancholy. So

extract the whiskey from the beach & follow those

spies from JunkySpite. Themite dynamite as Greece

is on the brink of collapse & slavery is still running strong.

As my dreams get real bizarre , films running

in one hour spurts of five minutes. Doing backflips

into paper dolls through cottage after cottage, flying

with lasers shooting from my hands as the charge

builds up & we run from the men in suits

cackling blank faced. And I just can't help but

scream as I watch you dragged away by their

scarecrow arms flailing abstracts. Riding

along liqourice highways in south africa gaining

powers from a sickly green stone & fighting

to the death among the Banks of Zurich.

Safe in its cloying grasp , sleepwalking till the end.

Author's Note

Tear this apart....