Bore what a bore is my life wince faster than
it takes a deception; vehement electricity tasting the vineyard
duller than the first pewter California sip
accentuated with a modern day Taser
Holding on to the lip of time. It hates me. It slips and searches
a blank draconian emergency that each
moment stood where it once did
... is a water laden hum drum sketched
monotonous wormy chained wreck.
Default harangue each sunrise a three piece suit of pleated crap on lacey dandruff ridden shoulder padded soul gowns on concrete swept at lengthy contortions till abysmal darkness sets.... not costume, not denial, not lack of effort, merely snarled all present bore of one's life...

-Into a burrow seconds lapse the dense vapid skin sutured onto the next tunnel a cavernous deep sounding drip constant drip drip dripping off stalactites enshrined by sights of every avenue I've ever walked.

To some symphonies are born of nature's extremes, only the life I have places the array at the bottom of the volcanic acidic festering winds of doubt deception and anxiety which regurgitate to putrid timing of the bells of pure boring ascensions and crescendos, until,
another being ***** their horn and freeing the lack of virtue of the
haughty exam of their youth they quipple of any, yet, more importantly, actually celebrate the life within which their living...

Not me gold flowers reaching a goal(poetic). Its all a lump of coal.