mechanized responses to death a circumventive blur
pushing the glows away from the mark
spur the trains beat the slow with my thick crop and let the doomsday snap
the dreamy grove for other futile matters.
the beautiful death, imbued with spectacle
a self removed from the glory and the wealth
"harmony of sublime movement"
astute snaps crack the whip and slip through all ephemeral tracks squeezing my multidimensional whole into mere lines weaving nebulous with my heartstrings
I find you after many quick nights, my movements so fast they move past time and render it worthless
I swallow it down with my monumental tongue, a glossic delight for me, as you know
and what do you know?
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