after the cosmonaut, weird revelation
squeal! reveal the reel of assassination footage to the new age, post haste! fate will enslave the damned and command the attention of the wench's sons, her onion shaped progeny, her awful inanity induced lobotomy reduced the lunacy of a wailing harpy to a gentle lullaby. i cried when i heard the word from the herd, it was transformed from a mental image into a mutant distortion of fringe society and hollow ostracized wild guys. in the summer months, worthy opponents' fists bumped, they were hard of hearing and nearing demise in a car crash. an unwise decision and a woman's intuition weakened our will and destined us to hate the large colliding forces in heads that lead us to beds of manure. breaking down into our various elemental components, becoming compost, helping us hope for the best and trapping the tricksters with our math. bath time for salty dogs reaching around and hounding the lost and found boys next door, whoring it up, evening the score and scathing the wrenching societal values thrust upon us, impaling ducks and liverwurst and making a carnival of the worst aspects of a large collective of assembled humanity. oh, the fancy free arithmetic involved in such charming drawling droning snore inducing lectures! oh, the core values assigned to the less fortunate media victims, twiddling thumbs and spinning in circles in bedrooms, pushing brooms at low paying jobs, finding no shame in being dull, impotent cogs that serve to better the true leaders. the true captains of the true country. my country is a big bad festival of madness and punishment for sins of fathers long dead, the distant memories of a soiled interaction with other individualists stun us and cover us with dust as we age, stuck in a solid statue state. for years our tears flowed and served no purpose until the rather fetching prospective mates approached us. they dangled carrots in front of mouths to get around the letter of the law, and all were agog. the tots skittered and pimps littered the streets with cigarette butts and condom wrappers. the original rapper appeared unfazed and gazed upon the work of a misled generation of pork. a scandal enveloping all known deviants, seemingly seething with rotten waste, a corrupted face freckled with scabs and ticks, the parasitic twist on an old classic: the discovery of the appearance of purity and airbrushed inhuman bodies. the conflicting emotions twisting the notion of a true dichotomy, a fistful of pills can cost me an arm and a leg and make me a dreg of society, i'm quietly mean, my meaning is seen by a fraction of the teens that can read, but the demonic possessions of darling liars only serve to accelerate the ecstatic boys in the yard. the children have just had incredible epiphanies and their symphonies are phony tragedies. the youths ride bikes to big ditches and ditch their rides. the exploration of private property exhilarates and entrances, so the lads do dances and obey the gentle voices that force them to make wiser choices.