in hyper-tensive past-tenses of aggression
gargantuan fences and elephants pensively
define the inequality of mind
killer whales
impale the snails
upon knives that shine with yesterday's  
newest movies
new longings for leggings
more guns for the incessant
humdrum
of drums and drones
beaten down to the bone
and then boiled and burned
the broth is thick as slime
a liquid sludge you could never dine upon
unless your next wish was death
and in case her face
made you pace the halls
her breath made you face
the waterfalls of the spirit
under this scenario
we danced a living image
hurried and hunted
just as the mountains crumbled
we got ******
and stunted our growth
as furry souls with feline dreams
deliver their music
in their coats
under their armor
their is a charmer
who sings all manners of worlds into being
forming a third unity
another understanding
is standing under
her dress
he caressed her thigh and lifted
her alibis to the ski
in her eyes are comets
just passing by
in her mouth the sun
heads towards the south and orbits
her heart a thousand times
i have called you before
and no-one answered the door
i have walked your gardens
with seeds falling from my beard
cut the pieces out of leftover pockets
and raced for the fields
that allow for our rockets
to attack the moon

My tongue is leathered
vvith glory
an oral  j  u m  p   r o p e
            in the darkness!

Joy!!!
might you trip
&& break a femur
to make a meal of yourself?

Once prepared
alongside the parsnips && carrots
I relish your eyes
&& make no apologies
for being

Don't be sad
to be svvallowed
Some
are not as lucky

You walk with purpose down my street
Thought you wanted to taste all my sweets
Like every other man I meet
That on their wife they want to cheat

You choose me, why I do not know
But on me you did bestow
Your surgically sharp knife leave rivers that flows

Me, you saw fit to disembowell
All that was heard was my painful howl
You ****** that knife into my gut
Made a smooth quick upper cut

I watched my intestines hit the floor
You calmly walked right out the door
I was left with the messy gore
Waves of panic hit my minds shore

As the realization that my life was over
No more looking for that four leaf clover
Nothing mattered any more
This act of yours I do deplore

I grab my body's innards, to shove them back
But didn't seem to have the knack
Such a sad way to end my life
By the blade of Jacks shiny knife

built a dam
****** the flow
to rock me
in a nebula
of aphasia

damask and silk
amniotic velvet
all five senses
spelling your smile
the touch of your voice

Roses are red
Violets are blue
This is as cliché
As it's possible too.

Wherever you were
Born and bred
Your clichéness will be
Ripped to shreds

Long story short
It's been said before
It's not a *one in a million chance
That when it rains, it pours

Or practice makes perfect
It's said all the time
I'm sick and tired of these clichés
They're really difficult to rhyme

Only time will tell
So be careful of what you're reading
'Cause everything happens for a reason
And looks can be deceiving

So if I think outside the box
And all dreams can come true
Then the use of a cliché
Would be enough to **** you

But if you're lucky enough
To have *played your cards right
This could be the first day
Of the rest of your life

Somewhere behind me

There may still be monsters accidentally existing

I have no time for their ghosts or membrane mutiny

Somewhere a childish criminal collects clarity blissfully sidetracked

Simple secrets now subjected to an expiration date

A jar cluttered with light may illuminate its conclusion

Hums fall with clicks inside glass contaminates

Class refrained curiosity made these spaces empty

Peripheral pimps take my scenes for nonsensical renditions

Ticks in the skull while empathy ponders panic

A familiar echo for the susceptible
A time bomb mistaken for clockwork

Helium hideaways complicate an otherwise profound articulation

They fall separately

While defunct damsels capture blue bliss on virtual timelines

It's not real
Light speed fleeting

Grasp the grips for your short sighted ******

Do these chalklines suggest hesitation?

What flaw shall we consider fixation?

Brickwork bygones crumble into memory and highway streams

Falling on fiends lost inside a smokescreen sanctuary

Eyes indefinitely indulging

Porcelain prisms with mindful monsters

Timeline logic lays low for the sake of saner discovery

Downward dazes find hands like phases

No correct callous in sight

**** you.