ON DAYS I AWAKE BEFORE THE NIGHTMARE ENDS I. Smarting still from the stripping of their landmark events badge moments of intrusive triviality exemplify the smallest razors aptitude for unparalleled precision in the lacerations on the recollective oscillations of my sunrise splice of hum and sigh like a roll of bullets rattled off in a childs cap gun II. The lethargy that wraps its transparent ribbon round a clinomaniacs box of Tuesdays is antithetical in its ambition as a Little Black Book - bloated with an atrium of improvised post-it palpitations - is emotionally verbose III. Yesterday the discordant acrimony banshees you unleashed on my generic inhaled waking would have found tune in the calendrial malaise of a rusty human culture but today my recollections sit like opened zippers on my skin in the aftermath of flagellations stamped on me by searing banshee tongues as tomorrows mandate pleas with the radio for another song to sigh to in redolent composure 10 28 14
Posted on: Wed, 29 Oct 2014 17:41:13 +0000
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