Lone Trumpeter.
(Brass Petals)
The majority of rejections are untimely and wordless. A chorus featuring a strong recreation of honorable flotsam and jetsam that continue to rhyme with engine and orange. Dope beats playing Harry Potter at a children's birthday party. Extra cash exemplified twice to the ears of the lovesick creator. Just to the center of iron-clad armor, but tied indirectly to, the brothers and sisters who watched clocks as Death battering-rammed through cubicles and petshops. Processing light and dark with up and down can contain profound development if both of the three parties have pinatas and undergrown wine fruits being lobbed with little force through executive branches of the Hate Tree. Once a monument is constructed, hard hats of yellow and dust can be drenched in rivers of thoughts unwinding; like somewhere across forever ended here and now. The chandelier hook responded to the clang of sunny furnace silence during primary work hours. Lunch was spent playing elevator games with the janitorial carts. Insects on the desks, birds in high-esteem business classes as to keep dead allocations as it is and to implement soul funtioning on the prancers.
Drunk sounds. Beer hatchets and helms equipped for boring pleasure and not making love. Tale from a handmaid, like a care existed then strutted out through rooster-inhabited cradles and proclaimed the destiny of rings cutting fingers and robotic thrusts. One giant sex organ. Dressed in red. Transmitting pleasure as slow as smoke signals. Marching towards torn equality and other things signed up to be ripped. An apple was bruised by gravity. The air whispered a chuckle.
Yes, she died. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that no one knew she was even alive in the first place.
Shame. Like SONAR heard by dogs instead of bats.
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Charles Rocket is No Longer with Us.
You all know him as the wealthy villain in Dumb and Dumber.
He also uttered the first "fuck" on Network Television back in 1975 on SNL.
Slit his throat.
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Ambient Artifacts in Search of Something to Immobilize.
What is that thing she wears around her neck? Can't say how many times she might have been here at this venue but she seems to know where to stand, positioned so that the black lights hit off that thing around her neck and shimmer. It was not to be escaped. You made your point, that and the cussing.
Point taken-- but when the bandleader demands that they "kiss the hand that feeds" could it not be a misspoking of the simplest kind? Running around these days, a full day as always-- who comes to your job and asks a lot of questions? If you work in technical support or at a library skip that part.
At the library I have been known to come along and knock the book out of their mouths. They really like the bound volumes of Mark Trail. Seventeen years of Mark Trail have been collected, starting with the good years when the fight scenes got too specific and wild.
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