Benign was yet another passer by to predisposed mentality
But both secretly wished somewhere beneath their tempers, demeanors, and myths
For the other to beg pardon for salvation at last; trading their ghosts and their pasts
The men of social civilization, disconnected by strange colors and baffling arrays of advertized trash.. asking where’s the rest of the cash?
So it may seem the wrath of industry, media, and projected reflections
Make trial and test for the all of the rest, connect and digest.
Such was the spoken scramble of this morning in particular. It was no more and certainly no less jovial than what has continually been the subjection of mister Hulton’s consciousness. Often he wondered to what degree of affect had he been lent these sharp-toothed thoughts. For within him a feeling of great unease would settle as his mornings waned ever onward. Hulton; a man, or so he is told, was painted grimly by the colours of intellectual, asocial, endomorphic (in a figurative sense), and partially blind in at least one eye.