Fluorescence flies off my fingers, an excrescence raging toward dehiscence. I would surely be better off laying off the medical metaphors. Otherwise Dr. Poem will see you now, in court. Life runs short at the edges flying flying flying toward an egregious asymptote. The days of no-sky defy blue. A good caricature lugs its barrels of ice cream from one side of the freezer to the other and then back and back and back. Sweat with me in this frozen place and we will look each other in the side of the face to see so deep in the ears that our mirror hearing becomes a revolution unto an infinite hallway. You've seen those bathroom mirror constructions. The medicine cabinet upon the universe of the forever and ever and never severed. Be here with me, Alan. We washed our hands and emptied our bowels and now we can get down to business. The busy trees won't give us the time of day we have to take it and wear it like wrists that cannot relax.
Roman Ryan 