Thursday crushes my gold
My gold flattens out, at first paper thin
First paper thin, then immediately invisible
Immediately invisible, but after, she has growth
She has growth that itself grows, in an exponential way
In an exponential way into infinite-small
Into the throughout and ethereal pig sty, combinahybrae
The pig sty tells me to charge green with second-degree maturation

Therefore my left eyebrow is heavenly and my right, flash-shoots by earthen core  into opposite space.
My eyelids reveal paper and these eyelids, still tight and rubbery, stretch over what some might call my infernal youth.

Technology fraught with rot

Let technology terrorize the terrible illogical ideologically daft and shallow whose facts are fallible and beyond logical rabble. And it does, to me, induce reality rattle.

True rhymes are for ******* who want stitches or who'd rather itch neath' ******, in pain, teeth which retain and spew the words of inane... times two.