Sunday, 14 April 2013

13.This is a stick up

Okay. This is a stick up.

This is me telling you to cut the crap, princess cowboy.

Take a hike up the long hill and survey the capsized fruitbowls of the land.

Take a walk.

I'm going to stick around and check out my kingdom and

feed the goats used love letters from stupid boys who thought they'd last forever.

Lazerdolts and bang bang fools.

I am channeling a tunnel from the top of my brain

to the hypocritical sky horse

and asking the clouds what thundering hooves they have for the day.

I am asking the sky.

My heart is a glowstick dropped in a waterfall and

all the while you are trying to learn surrealism from the psychic fish.

The snow is over, amigo. The sun is out.

Time to quit all this weaving and bedward mulch.

Wild optimism in the chest like mushrooms through asphalt.

Fields of wild garlic stinking up the soil.

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