I remember I belted out a loud growl as the moon slipped and the earth lifted and full moon bloomed like a demonic bell – around the world the screams linger and the moans tingle and my throat grows greater with the intricate misdemeanours erupting from the nippon-fingers of those now sailing alone cold and thrown far from their throne where they once knew hope.
My cigarette touches along the wooden structure of this sinking ship and sets it alight
like a paper-weight twisted and turned inside out metaphysically spread my inexistant wings effortlessly and float onto the stadium where an arc diety looms with a sprawling mug for my womb to fill.
How can he hide the GAT when he ashes at a landfill of stats that produces the ‘harmony’ irreducibly blasted into the meteor of news worthy metaphors describing the horror the natives saw?
This sore blasts a freakish grin as the wind spins a sinning song against the water-saw shriek that gnarls on forms that should never have had to face the norm of massive deletion from the human race – this human space too fucked up to ever announce the falling grace of a whole world coming to terms with the ridicule of actions by space-aimed factions destined to mace the eyes of those who see the truth.
My tea can’t go cold when the city itself revolves around the warming waters of nuclear fallout that distorts the fragile children in the radiated womb not so far from the world yet so far from life…
She wonders why she gets out of bed at all and then as her world crumbles around her she remembers she was thrown out – knowing now that she has Fall and yet she won’t see Autumn.
I guess that is how it goes sometimes but I will never understand it.
So I will try to write a ryhme but my hand will never control my mind and so these are the poor times described in awful lines and that is all the time I can give to this thing that we call the end of times.
Gotta release something somehow…