Pink and green and blue and yellow and STOP like red lights in the rearview mirror Green and blue and yellow and pink and it all still lines up, but watch for the ST OP get chopped in half with a hatchet (felled by a tree, what else is there to see or do or think or watch or read or write, but this blackness like the earth after, like, a storm, or a wind blowing great and terrible onto the garden pulled up by t he weeds like a woman, she said, and I didn't know what to think because she wasn' t talking about me, was she, I couldn't sit still without a hypodermic needle, was it full of nothing or did it stink of trash and filth the filth of a hundred demon whispers smoking their tendrils up to the sky filling the balloon of heaven undern eath the heath the bar kissing flowers in the moonlight) why don't you, see what I care, there's no way for this to end is there? I asked her twilit brows underneath my soulfloor she pushed on the boards and they creaked & I said that'll be enough.

see my source inspiration here written (poorly) by ~acdw. [return to my tilde.town page]