Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Acid Grind Grime Tines Time

Falsetto sky writing spells cast out sight of a weather-beaten she wolf. All the bad news in blues and greens and purple proses or poems who knows which or when. The guitar shaped roses do a slinky move under pass the curve cloverleaf they call it only I'm not talking Irish. A crass rationale nails gnawed to microscopic stumps screaming makes me think internationale. Hotel back to handstands, hand claps, or no pants policies in the transubstantiated past. No sense less than zinc or oxide in crying over the river under the counter of a forgotten dream people stumble dancing from the bled out past train tracks played downwind of a lone figure widely inside the mechanics of foot head obstacles. Ghostly tea clinks beer bottles settling for a long night inside the smothering black. Haunted diligence gains the lips crusted with slop, near-misses like singles ads gone digital, pizza sauce, beer, or snot. False echo can footstep your mettle. Cowbell ruined for a generation gap traps paper sediment. Sentimental rhetoric not to believed or kept captured in crack. Blowing and sucking smoke into the cavity abscessed pus of the heart done wrong. Undercarriage moves underwhelming the expectant audience members of my esteemed extreme. Please grind your acid etch trance. Grime tines ring the wrung outside waves tipped toward Santa can banter candor.

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