Oh the mosses. The many mosses have grown
layers up to layers.
Thick and soft and nice and choking
in front of the golden gate per royale golden
tall, proud and forever bearing a shoulder weight of protection.
Before today I made beggar shambling moves in style and won by the skin of teeth
But by now - my now good friend the visible pin hinge has grown unwanted and ripe;
an old woman of sorts, ready for unfamiliar fun and ill repaired for it's age.
This here is opportunity.
These instructs, these constructs - questions I did not ask
for such beautiful want for such pretty gold. So hungry for -
I am the famous but lazy cut-purse,
This back was open and smoldering. it's the prettiest dress she could find tho.
Eyes were victim and the same. wanting. wanted.
want. for wasting away good clicks and tocks on poor boys.
Business was good this time of year.
away with closed signs, russian language warning labels and uninvited karma.
In with lighters who only seemed to spark work half of the time. sometimes.
This year, a number of our lord that I require to clumsy over,
held accountants held accosted, accounted and terribly goddamn tight lipped.
Her hand full of rolling number stack still does not cover the dotted tab.
Sashing this window tells of a short.
Dredg
I'm walking and dodging this one street light with a jangle jingle
pocket full of witch burners with a dash of spice ash.
Umbrella in each hand but clouds don't have the clout to come out for this collection.
In thrown black across the street perches hands containing 1 brick, 1 acre and an armful of tombs,
Too fucking pretty, too straight of a smile to give up what's under the lid
and just enough to restack Babylon off a tall stool on my way to an alley weight.
I step off the cliff that is of deep city curb and each brick breeds 12,
running with a parachute makes you farther away than I really notice
and its your turn to dry your
Chalky Thick Gullet
Marble exterior and a wrapping of gold.
and sun dipped down a coat into pools that were seen there.
As holes.
Easily created when viewed from the right angle with a toe dip and the secret face.
and This face was crooked and two stairs too high.
so it'll have to wait. This Box will wait. So will this key.
Modern Medicine and the Curb by arpeggiodouble, literature
Literature
Modern Medicine and the Curb
Swatting notes from the chicane trail
of bar on bar and curly cue indicator.
I seen it. This Time
Lay in puddles that disappear on a line
that disappears. In dark
over a round. In fluorescent glow.
Oh High Ho!
how we love dance to hover over ground
on an empty box that lifts us up
easily confused to have held the cleaner of the three.
and the man with shoes in his hand yells above
the street lights. and all this ends with a smile on it's face.
Ode to the telephone by arpeggiodouble, literature
Literature
Ode to the telephone
I pulled a metaphysical rabbit out of a rabbit with a green swath of yawning
around the posturing up of a line.
7 others and 1 of someone else makes us to be 9.
and the Jousting of marble columns with copper hammers has upset my arm
and I feel jarred. In.
Collected.
but a series of separated circumstances written in a book purchased.
Freshly. Newly obtained.
Could possibly present you with a plate of better understanding.
Oh the mosses. The many mosses have grown
layers up to layers.
Thick and soft and nice and choking
in front of the golden gate per royale golden
tall, proud and forever bearing a shoulder weight of protection.
Before today I made beggar shambling moves in style and won by the skin of teeth
But by now - my now good friend the visible pin hinge has grown unwanted and ripe;
an old woman of sorts, ready for unfamiliar fun and ill repaired for it's age.
This here is opportunity.
These instructs, these constructs - questions I did not ask
for such beautiful want for such pretty gold. So hungry for -
I am the famous but lazy cut-purse,
This back was open and smoldering. it's the prettiest dress she could find tho.
Eyes were victim and the same. wanting. wanted.
want. for wasting away good clicks and tocks on poor boys.
Business was good this time of year.
away with closed signs, russian language warning labels and uninvited karma.
In with lighters who only seemed to spark work half of the time. sometimes.
This year, a number of our lord that I require to clumsy over,
held accountants held accosted, accounted and terribly goddamn tight lipped.
Her hand full of rolling number stack still does not cover the dotted tab.
Sashing this window tells of a short.
Dredg
Ode to the telephone by arpeggiodouble, literature
Literature
Ode to the telephone
I pulled a metaphysical rabbit out of a rabbit with a green swath of yawning
around the posturing up of a line.
7 others and 1 of someone else makes us to be 9.
and the Jousting of marble columns with copper hammers has upset my arm
and I feel jarred. In.
Collected.
but a series of separated circumstances written in a book purchased.
Freshly. Newly obtained.
Could possibly present you with a plate of better understanding.
Modern Medicine and the Curb by arpeggiodouble, literature
Literature
Modern Medicine and the Curb
Swatting notes from the chicane trail
of bar on bar and curly cue indicator.
I seen it. This Time
Lay in puddles that disappear on a line
that disappears. In dark
over a round. In fluorescent glow.
Oh High Ho!
how we love dance to hover over ground
on an empty box that lifts us up
easily confused to have held the cleaner of the three.
and the man with shoes in his hand yells above
the street lights. and all this ends with a smile on it's face.
Chalky Thick Gullet
Marble exterior and a wrapping of gold.
and sun dipped down a coat into pools that were seen there.
As holes.
Easily created when viewed from the right angle with a toe dip and the secret face.
and This face was crooked and two stairs too high.
so it'll have to wait. This Box will wait. So will this key.
I'm walking and dodging this one street light with a jangle jingle
pocket full of witch burners with a dash of spice ash.
Umbrella in each hand but clouds don't have the clout to come out for this collection.
In thrown black across the street perches hands containing 1 brick, 1 acre and an armful of tombs,
Too fucking pretty, too straight of a smile to give up what's under the lid
and just enough to restack Babylon off a tall stool on my way to an alley weight.
I step off the cliff that is of deep city curb and each brick breeds 12,
running with a parachute makes you farther away than I really notice
and its your turn to dry your
They sure do look like a diverse array of mark ass marks, trick ass marks, punk bitches, skip-skops, skanks n' skalley wags, hoe's, heffas', hehaws and hula hoops.