hellsforheroes

Mana for my foxes and Gaia for the penguins, a low carb, high carbon diet, ice boats skiing for Scandinavian navies, sweet milf mama orchid tip saccharine sanguine. Hot, she is hot, a three alarm smoke detector, dripping olive juice Popsicle love. Remember that Rembrandt we saw in Warsaw, Poland, I was on the North Pole and I, we, saw a cap that did not fit, so no one could wear it. Santa and Satan smiled and waved lewd remarks to the bevy of bursa sac baleen tails, the carousing mammals of Kelvin not yet, Kelvin never close, but horrible none the lesser extent victory of man burning his house for Kelly. I was on top of a lion, a DaVinci, a deviancy says the synthetic Neuron, I say hey I, want to tell you about AI, the little guy thinking blinking bulbs on his sown sketches of yes no maybe not quite or even lame to reason so what can we do about the things with orange rings framing my calloused malice rhetoric spurn, the ancient balance on fire, houses to burn, Atlantis shrugged right, and random like the user, the consumer, the sake of faking diction needs to be done, the house cleaned, and harmonized, Brian Wilson smiling, the natural figment of oblivion melting a sheet of Europa mooning me, ass to Saturn, methane fission rock candy candlestick big wick space race romance, burning no wax, and seeking, reeking from patronage reconnaissance from the Minnesota lawn pineapple palm, reality TV skipping the pipe for tracks of crack caned by the Iowans next to the desert of Kentucky, and the ocean of Ohio. Brother dolphin I hand land back, real estate for you to flip for moreover under the bridge at the last light Pacific Ocean ridge, not like the Atlantic semantics, a romantic synth-pop punk rock pyromaniac anthem for the thems, the short cut, short skirt, pigeons of erasure sentimentality, baby black eyed made up to get me up off the chair to flamb a deserving air, a breeze from the fair, the sweet dairy air of cattle mutilated and slaughtered for the few surviving the sauna burn, school bus combustion, busting at the seems, it seems that it must be a world of bees wax and small stacks of mutant pollutant heat, isnt the weather neat, like steam from the plants, a new and clear plant of tope, a colorless feed for the arching aching, nervous folk, three in we, with a death defying tick. I am pissed off, the world is baking easy does it dough spayed dog days, Mama earth I am rotting your chest, shitting on your nipple sweet bosomed breast of grateful dead neutrality, supportive Switzerland, without naughty sleepy zs. New Uzis dying aint for you, blessings judicator and the fox looking for butterflies, and the nymphs looking for soup spoons adapting to renditions of yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away, oh thank you Paul, I too yearn for yesterday. I remember when pot and I were high, and my heart was a viscous hibiscus of wavering palatable lily like limitations, nether soft petals of metallic phallic divinity, a bed stain mess of her getting on, arm and arm getting it on, the house nevermore, nevermore, gently rapping the drifter man, the nomad employee rotten on coca near broke, a Jesus candle in a small town of sent away catalog Wisconsin destiny. The water on my door, is the blood of no lamb, no one on the run from anything, only wadding in puddles of frozen what used to be, bees wax, and spike the needle railroad train methamphetamine tracks. The church before god in minute town privatized prison, limited stature and limited dreams of penned in votes for coal in ramshackle curb, the bay and a buggy dying like the cougar, without the trumpet being heard, the thrill gone, by god gone, bygone god. I can only watch the last few breathes, otherwise it burns away my girl, too hot for the green house, the crackerjack prayer to melt away the antiquity of gifts, the rift of floating fresh stones, rocks of solid state refreshing interstate bound bundles of bathwater dreams. Texas without a tornado, and a whale without ballast, a stone pony in a foot race for a million, a prayer for the dead, blessing for a mind, an earth suckled and slapped, a punk rock princess, rebelling from me, from the burning hole in a reality, the tears of New York not still seen, an animal prayer, a pagan deity.