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We met frequently at a certain intersection I dare not name for fear of courthouse consequence. I never asked for this. The leftover booze- backpack backpack- from yesterday was ready for me to savor hastily... Indeed, a dire need, to be buzzed enough so the many moody monsters on the streets got no motive to steal your soul or psyche.
I walked to the Cross in Birkenstocks. They paired nicely my new, super stylish socks. But still sadly my dreadlocks are gone. Writer don’t need the world, rather a stack of paper and a proper pen, better yet a friendly mescaline chalice to Muse what beautiful grooves on the Poetry of your desk has the power to soothe these ghetto situations. I beckon your attention. What better way is there to spend your time? dispensable to Divine Reversd
Earth sprouts its trunks on Veiny Island Groves in rows of skeletal strife. If at all, did we respect our last spokesman? only to grieve his own history forever in a cosmic swing of events, drunken hypnotized aloof. Do we share the same space Purpose Harbor? I confess it is hard to think harder as a martyr of incredible madness happening…
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The California sunshine pierces deeply each cell. I adore the warmth without reservation, a kind of surprise visit not necessarily cherished, today, you might say, never fails to amaze my Quay. Don’t hesitate, respect its devotion to remain aflame. You're perfect attention. to pinewood yogis. brighter than we, neither to concern ourselves with urns, or question its lessons… Eden gurgles hell we current dwell our human, all too human future World must burn.
Experimental without any tacky add-ons, we forge friendships on these pages’ vague analysis of oh, oh, oh, another one who longs. for songs. Would you prefer input of ‘es’ making it harder to hamper the laundry mother bends over backwards to purify thereby deeming you personal, God-given permission of experiencing the sunshine finer than scamming electrical vanity she herself must compromise to continue to compromise?
