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Thursday, November 03, 2005
Sound Check
Step one one two three I am betrothed to a cinderblock king. Self evolution goes only as far as the next dip in the patterned extinction. We will get to that meteor when it gets here.
flickclicksnapsnip is the sound of the progression of unplanned plans. It reverberates within the auditoriuskull as dancing flashes of steel and flesh mold as one in a perverse performance deemed inappropriate by most and unnecessary by all. Reddened knuckles speak the scriptures of the future in monotone understatements. Bleedloudersir.
Clocked work rides the night mare once again and fog slips in through abacus skin. There is only time for rhymes and stiletto mannequins. The veins make mother cry and babies die and poison flows through them. It is a self-inflicted affliction of addiction and there is nothing but an ever-increasing glazzylash to blame. Processes are stuttered. I am late night radio. Insert blank tape.
Reverberations. Sound check.
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