a continuity of all things stars hanging loose in the pupil of this deadbeat word.
typhoons in a swirl of tempestuous ballet, dogs shivering in the blue cold, biting their canine integument the way scarabs would, sinking in a temporal flotsam-way within tectonic display of text
hectares of blank stares bringing to life lysergic field of black birds.
and then some
equal number of evocativeness:
continuing on into the ground are the bones warm in their compost. the sudden fragrance of rat **** appeals to the masses. too much laughter in flooded thoroughfares pockmarked by the vehement jam of staccato jackhammer. choking us is today's headline in supreme obbligato - its stench reeks of libidinal perfume etched in the flesh of the rigmarole.