this experience
this experience
this experience
every moment a marker, every second a stone eclipsed by the train, every one sparks the mind on behalf of the kind and giving the illusion of control we read minds to find THAT which evades us...the connection behind, behind, behind, from different distinctions of order the movement rains upon us missing or remembering catapulting thoughtful bundles of disparity. Masks of every kind slowly carving smiles upon one another's pastimes. The type of food in this habitat is ethereal forecast headclouds. You feed off the blue garden of canto leaves. Parts of our bodies go visit their relatives. The hive-eating tortoise reworks severed matches. Children are taught to gather as paupers before the wealth of their future selves. In retrospect everything was peach, a hairy peach preacher telling some not to dream. That no use ever came from exploring beyond the gate, over rooftops of commodity and incandescent pillows of glass. Forgetting how to catch the wind in our lungs, leaving traces of bread for motherbirds to eat. Clasp, Blast, Grasp. Sensations
in the air we fell on all directions
in the air we felt on all directions
in the air we fell on all directions
