Call delicate sirens of the working class! half-*** minimum wage poverty line subsidy sages hollow of materialism devils, devoid of darkness internal fire strike rage and hellion god bowels light flickering shallow men. The rich men. The truly poor men living in clouded manors on Ignorance Avenue.
Delicate sirens not so poor after all, not so empty or so full. God is the prayer call and siren droll and *** roll-in-sleep afternoon shore-breeze faint of hope approaching winter-fall showering divinity flowers the same material as Peter's scraggly beard while he coughs his angelic bronchitis wheezes, purifying the western air. Peter is apostle his snores are their own gospel the doves in his dreams will always be there.
The battle goes on the bottle goes up the rattle hollers out the chatter not without.
Sirens call! Call with short breaths as the world cyclones through universal woe.