Bubble Reputation
I dreamt late last the night, I was schizophrenic.
Then waking I found that to be 80% true.

20% of the time spent was the grasp of anxiety.
Why does ending clash with mending?
Stiff from questions, answer less ones.
So much grey skin, not quite dust bin,
with the clench that I am in.

Damn you solicitude, quit your knock on my door with the brassy knob turn.
This ride makes one stay on with stiff jaw, from eating when its found on descent.

Rise with frankly too much, now I know how much consumed.
Oh wow, I'm horny today, the but truth, the endless.


Heavens To Purgatory
Now's the time for age of humans care for what can be done for yourself. The in respect then out will cling itself to seeming hopefuls.
Now we sing on a bridge for your own half, heavens to purgatory.
Gadzooks! Gadzooks! Gadzooks! What have you got to lose?

What you are is fast, the glance and telephone, ring those portable sling.
Deal with foggy folds you are here without consent except for your own.

Records of our discontentment, will but purge since one has found it, awfully hard to keep a grimace, voltage from another's counting.

We're such plants - oxygen, xylem, phloem - in the wrists, pumps to the greed of your delusion to a blind knowledge of sight from fall
chosen from spring.

Records of our discontentment, will but purge since one has found it, awfully hard to keep a grimace, voltage from another's counting.


Vessels of a Donor Look
Stride with breadth of your own will and steps as light as your/their memories.
Breaking with vessels of a donor look that...

But enough of ends to a means, I refute dragging feet.
Avarice makes quite the bedmate, while surely seeking spice.

And refuses that it was coalesce and yearning as the teasing of stem and words were
extensions of cave walls and language fins to swim through by the way of long hum greediness.
Luxury instead of need, I said by him.

But enough of ends to a means, I refute dragging feet.
Avarice makes quite the bedmate, while surely seeking spice.
Loud impacts with it all the time, the deafening your look.

Lyrics deliver what the song spreads, mood of the writer.
Oh crusts of isostasy, steady this hand with the cards it has.

But enough of ends to a means, I refute dragging feet.


Phi
Could you stop and take inhale, olfactory?
Accomplice to expression.

It makes itself known by a changing a tone.
Invisible reminder. More's desired from the fizz of skin.

It's umbra reminds me of past beliefs, and the holidays they had.
Empiricism, why'd they not preach that?
So a magic training first.
How's about the musk of your own deeds?

Oh how much I want to of your smell.
Dewness from the below, morning from the above.
Too many developed from the eyes, ears, touch and the taste, stories of the waste.

The big secrets now. How we've lost and found. Something not quite said, until everything's in bed.


The Old Forever New Things
You are smiling too hard and the toddlers laughed it back, "It's not from outside sources." Like the run of a pair-like collision. Of
lips like a view unimaginable.

If you don't want fear stop giving, if you don't want glee start taking too many things that height of 'fluence and jumped the man onto the
moat and into.

You are frowning too soft and the men cried it back "It's all from inside sources." Like the walk of a single like a near-missing of eyes.

If you don't want glee start taking too many things that height of 'fluence and jumped the man onto the moat and into.
Like a view of highly probable charity but from you, ends and jumped the man on, the arbiter of nothing.


All of one is the other
I, me, you, themselves and all of us.
Chemicals, electricity, and thrusts.
Quiet night, hoping the dream blends with conveyor belt life.

Will the thoughts we've made, column into grace, collections of the fragments we have caught?
Blink your screeny stare from the issue, questioning for truth makes sick.
Do as much as want can allow them, touch the glare that fakes times tick.

It's in your thinking of filled rooms and the geometry of groups. In this world of countless worlds with
these shapes that please and toil around.



Four Humours
Constant mystery as to why with the warmth and joy. For
those is with whose we to whom them, where when then what goes who.
Fragile stomach more faith in you then any god.

The way of the ways is an answerless riddle to pluck on about peep, could you
do that thing?

Could you do that thing that moved the artist to tears?
Involves movement of all our children, not yet quite grown to die.
All the same but so diverse in blaming those few.
It's for seeking all that is weakening, timorous about time.

Catharsis Boo
Time to make up a product that makes one visualize a break from strife.
One has once said, "It's always a something that molds bread, rise and then gone."
Have some more grub, and old man he sells them by the shrub, from his old car.

Might as well burn to your fancy.
No more idle thoughts of plenty.
Pick the job your jeans are to wear.
Or take them off, work like your bare.

Ah, don't look!

Why hello verse, I see your back again to run course. What nice timing.

I am calling you and you're not home. I saw you asleep, I conspired we got hurt.

It's you again. I thought we established we were friends. Now go amscray.

Don't Hold Back, Feel a Little Longer
Now and then, Mrs.Sarah Tonin likes to boom with her dopa men.
Purpose clear, to move without the fear of the later's contempt for now.

And the levels lean clear, and the parts wave shores dear, do I dare go on?
Flesh won't shut off till it gets, all of its own tribe regrets, its wishlist of the feel.

Hold to ground we're troubled onto, fight of flight from day and nocturne.
Sweat this out, all your doubt of the movements.

Legs are sore can you fare, a ride on those loins' snare,
a nice game of house.
It's an early morn tonight, for a chance to prove our plight, is still more to move it free?


No One Likes a Nihilist
Quid pro quo fleeting. Tit for the tat, impermanent swap.
Fugacious transit, tory's glory, ephemeral switch.
Perishable fugitive, short-lived, brief, temporal transient.

Clandestine on tank fuel.

World without end, eternal, oh shit! There goes a moment past!
Perpetuity for some consolidated circumference.
Revolution horizon, periphery till the next dost us enclose.

It's a circle friend, it's a verbal or flash stop in time.
It's a scramble enemy. It's a circle friend, it's not too late in the end.
It's a circle friend. We're not better till the end.