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Madame, I assure you I am not staring at you. I'm an artist. |
The rain on this rather hopeful umbrella makes the most glorious noise--it sounds like the future. |
None of these dislocated shoulders we've been standing on have ever belonged to giants. Oh! Hands pursed with the money-syringe--hold still- |
Flourescent noise electric static in our toes, the HonkeyTonk conveyor endless cycling -theExchange- we can only comply. NoBag/I'mLocal |
Yes, but at what price apricots? We glide along these Supermarket tower hallways as trobadours, tasting the bready brilliant valleys on 7th |
@mayjah Wine and chicken fat have been known to work wonders on wheels of all kinds. A lot of things need a good greasing and a drink. |
@mayjah the only adequate place would be the gutted hull of a chicken-fried childhood. Or the cellar, dear. Try the cellar. |
A Turkey. Naked, frozen regret. He declared himself the sentinel of my own skinless nightmares. He is called Henry. He enjoys the Post. |
@Hybernaut Thank you, good sir! |
Scraping inconvenient floorboards, my clockface Venus fjdnbrjs *fucking fuck BlackBerry Storm stupid keyboard* skfneudksa gjggbk! |
@hotdogsladies I fantasized you were the frozen heartbeat of crystalline butter in the greasy palm of time. |
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