Listen, I could list Son's, all day
all day from A to Zeus' kin but the system
changes friends to feigned kindoms, **** drunk
bums on a raft, pins stuck in cushions
hoping for a path to real or fake freedom
reel in fish dinner without the steak seasoning.

Its a shame when taste flames out
in baseless reasoning,
just take some dmt
to shake your limbs' debris
images get trimmed
endlessly leak lakes
shimmering breaking
boughs to fill memories,
symphonies chime in
to rhyme with the assembly
of matter and symbol
as these spindles cease.