|
burden
|
Lasers, bats, and automobiles! Lucid, here and gone. Beauty by the bowlful, and you can never go home again. Melody smelts from harmony. Report! Be sure to turn in mileage. He puts forth a masterful performance, yet still he must endure the obligatory earful from his mother. Yeah, because I'm going to fall off the rock, and the current is so heinous. Tumor sandwiches, every one! No, I didn't mean it like that - I know you took it that way. The spiritual investment is far too great. It dissolves in water, orange juice, love - love, for chrissake - anything you can get your hands on. Place the break-up bottles in the tree again, and pray with all your tape that it will descend again and be well but remain fully conscious that it will not and will not and will not. Beggars snatch your joy, and the well-wishers lay the sugar by the stone wall. You must choose. Pedal one, pedal two. Loose as a goose and no view to the rear. The contrast is demonic, I swear. Akin to the first dim sensation - the droplets exploding on your canvas, fog, the cursed promise of what waits outside the door. Don't mind the barricades. We're just here for the pizza.
|
010715
|