The Stir of the Cat

Start here, be and don’t move a morsel muscle, as the paradox reality intertwines the tussle in the backlash of a centre fold be bust by natures kindle thru the nasal vine upended on the bruised subtle fracture of a distant muse ascended , before the young scoff of a gene crafted blood to the brawl on the top end street, the lamp  lit doorways poised and ready for deceit, letterheads frattled and tapped to the foot of post modern magnetism as the diamonds cut and rush be siphened off  into the physical pivotal of jovial concession, mothers sons and fathers daughters tending to confessional  pretending hope to land its place in life’s allure and lapping grace a ***** ***** grab and sickle to the handle with out care , a crushing on the temple door made fickle in despair, into the land of crisses crosses oer the holy ground , on to the seat beset to throttle praise and  duty bound as naval buttons cut  the cordial  make into believe, till redeemer redeems of its brat and re-buttle relieved of its cervical hat, the raven retires to all that is subtle, be no grounds for divorce in the stir of the cat