(no subject)
Our thin masquerade clings
To happy oak branches,
Waltzing to the breeze of my favorite season.
Quick angry grunts percolate momentarily, culminating
In a flurry of sustained yells like
Those fucking woodpeckers
In a combustion of rage to which my tree top trembles
Pedro ponders, pensive.
Watching us sidelong
For a cunning escape or attack of furrowed brow.
I nod to him in swift delivery and weave smartly to a tedious tendril
From which I leap lavishly through a lingering lack of limb
Followed by Portugal, Collins, Pedro.
Happening upon a pretentious pine just as gravity overcomes our velocity,
We look back upon our oak as it seems to sway exceedingly more than usual, followed by a nap which leaves it in a most disheartening disarray. Our now diagonal detail gives us a most excellent view of the perpetrator who obviously smells of some soft sickening scent and carries a creature that seems to be enjoying his fingers pressing urgently inside of it, sliding its teeth in a circular fashion.
To happy oak branches,
Waltzing to the breeze of my favorite season.
Quick angry grunts percolate momentarily, culminating
In a flurry of sustained yells like
Those fucking woodpeckers
In a combustion of rage to which my tree top trembles
Pedro ponders, pensive.
Watching us sidelong
For a cunning escape or attack of furrowed brow.
I nod to him in swift delivery and weave smartly to a tedious tendril
From which I leap lavishly through a lingering lack of limb
Followed by Portugal, Collins, Pedro.
Happening upon a pretentious pine just as gravity overcomes our velocity,
We look back upon our oak as it seems to sway exceedingly more than usual, followed by a nap which leaves it in a most disheartening disarray. Our now diagonal detail gives us a most excellent view of the perpetrator who obviously smells of some soft sickening scent and carries a creature that seems to be enjoying his fingers pressing urgently inside of it, sliding its teeth in a circular fashion.