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Take the bait ? (Germination)
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fish face foot
We blaze the darkening highways. Cactus flowers are melancholy in blue moonbeams. The horizon ahead whispers “fresh meat” chanting. You’re stuck in a dream and whether it’s good or bad doesn’t matter because it’s just a dream… one long drawn-out penance living like a peasant in your still mother's sly little runaway escapade…
Latinos were landscaping and the birdsong was youthful and vibrant in the trimmed summer trees. My sister stepped out of the passenger seat which I then flipped open and joined the ladies on the driveway with bent backs cracking. You could smell the freshness of awareness in the air and a keen strange feeling flooded my system fairly exhilarating I dare say. I looked around for a moment and then carried my things inside the house.
The cats like vampires hissed from aback their plastic boxes and snuggled stiffly in the dim. Their whiskers twitched as they sniffed for hints. Boxes throughout seemed to breathe fiercely with the presence of the Past. Be wise stay inside like the cats.
Really poetic features,
Really poetic features, taking out the instrumentals, then the musicality of the lyric comes to the front. And poetry is much like a dream, only recorded and closely watched and returned to!
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver