soluable innane

;alkdg82://

cartesian wallpoles stuck to twitching gnats
as if mama was coming to feed again
these, the echoings of a dying breed
a seed left exposed to the elements of absent nurture
the cruel breath of continual cause and effect
bring stillness to the forefront of impossibilities
as interlocking forecasts oppose feeling formed of threads
each more tightly woven than the next
against the experience of dissolving
within a sea of compartments
rearranging forever

Wanted: Neebs

kjadg782://

gastronomics. oh yeah. you're worth it.
sawtooth favorites down on old man grommets
so fancifully placed by adulthood disrobic sessions
annapolitic tickle festivals like stacking dills on the deally yo
keep it down on the brown low or the podraces get it
i swear, i'll do it!!
way more screwy now that the captain stopped his stewing habit
dead in the khakis like so much shredded wheat tied to the tracks
formed before me swims a security man dressed as an elder with more questions
this raises hair among the shorter ones and those who choose to bust my chops
just don't break my balls goes the platinum rule of thumb for green cards and seamless gubernatorial gutter brooms
stutter home bombs shuttling back for more gore time like a real conservative willingly
all wily and croquettish mole-hilling freshness
mmm..the best
mm..the marmosets
never rest until the preacher pays the old lady in poppin fresh salmon locks
unraging from furniture curbside oscillating offers
come down to coffin town
we got what you need...eventually

Where there be monsters

"They aren't animals,"
he said as he stared at the news.
"They wouldn't do that,"
as the print bled into the neighbouring pages.
"Life is worth too much more for it to be true,"
as the screaming children wept into the arms of the adult, faced away from the camera.
"Words can barely capture the poetry of loss,"
as I lay close to tears on the white sheets,
in a summer daze,
cold under my sheets.
Every morning brings my tea and the bitter knowledge
that there is no news I can look forward to.
"Bodies found under a rock in the desert,
faces turned towards their waiting mothers,
whose faces are cloaked with veils of anticipation,
and premonitions of impending loss,"
and what is more do I find the horrors within me?
"Can I hold a blade to the light, and find passion thrusting in anger and ego-lust?"
The evenings grow nearer,
as the old wisdom also palls,
can my grandparents help me philosophize on why the young years
of a life are to be slashed?
"And to the wandering minstrels singing songs of insanity,
roaming the worlds streets, unrequited in love and hate,
are you not worth the food on my table?"
Rhetorical.