Comparison games moved in next door
and they run their weed whacker at five
in the morning, every other morning. The
blower, also, blows all the leaves you loved
across the grass that is not in the least bit
loved. Spray more Roundup and join a few
classy actions. Each morning needs to start
as early as graspable, damn the sleep to the
place where dreams go to become mares of
the night. Neigh. Nay! Let the no flow through
you as if it were a yes. The stream of negation
asks for ablation in the office of the quack quack
duck across the street from the medical
complexity. More chemical romance, more
tired late century music, more bardic skin
written across by ink and pink and links. Go
back to LinkedIn and give yourself a recommendation.
One recommends one, otherwise there could be
no two. And this is the foundation of distinction.
The barbituation of extinction. Our habituation
writ hard, like a river scribbling out another gorge.
Roman Ryan 