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Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
life more abundant calls forth an expandable reality primo,
thus wisdom, the principal thing when-ce all other
things may be made

machine level codifiers ifying
meaning back into idle words.

Keep the secret. Answer the call,
who will help the widow's son?

You, Templar, what message bear ye to my child?,
asked the widow.
Fi-del-e-tus. with a squeeze and a tap,
wink and grin

Poet, who named the prophet?
who named the teller to tales?
who gave thee hearing ear and seeing eye?

Some mind imagined those as yet unformed in forever past.
You agree. You experienced living, so far.

So good, we move on, figurative re re re al-it if-ity
Haps apt to appear be fore your veri variety of being even
hapt as a thing thought, imagined made for a function, as yet

undone. Conserve the NULL set, that whole idea is dangerously
close to fading…

Have you seen those videos of soap bubbles filled with H
and no O?
You should see those, to recall the phenomenonal pre-dictatorial
image, see the bubble, invisible but
for reflection of ambient ambits in our epigenetic radiosphere,

bubbles collapse, and for a flash, flame orange shaped
as the bubble was.
No ex-plo sion it-a-tivity, mere dis cipation,
loss of grip on the shape of things that were, now
con forms to re per ceive,

try again, get a good grip, swing and a miss, go again
take a Mulligan, I think, some game has such a rule,

We can use it here. We can scroll back up,
like a rope lift on the bunny hill at Big Bear, back when…

wheels in wheels, bubbles in bubbles, forms in forms

this is the information age I was informed. Adamkind, those
qubitical, ambitical little images of

Who, who? would a name comfort-you worth more than a breath?
Fresh air after a minuted moment twixt out and in again,

Power, create ific power haps twixt out an in again,
the cipitation, the d was missed, what if it were not?

re-read, religion once meant that, re-connect, too,
religion meant that state of having re-read the map,
re-tied the worth carrying,
stacked the worthless by the trail so
some hapless stranger may see
the treasure it was and is, to any who care to

receive, or con ceive it for the
truth I found in it and kept, which I leave to you
here:
Both treasure and truth are where ye find them,
and shall be for ever, when ever starts for you.

Ezekial, judge my riddle, please. The fool missed the
point of conception…
No, no no no

A fool's dance in a Phrygian cap with useless, symbolic wings…
gee, Phrygian, means nothing to you? Google it, you live in the future.
Later,
A time upon which a Mercury dime would comfort
a rich American Tyrant, son of the Flim-flam man,
no lie, this is mythic, you can't make this stuff up
its history. Hysterical, right
John D. Standard-for-Petropower-manifestation,
the dead's carbon footprints bubbling up
to fire and fridgin' ice, whoa, who broke the world,

I was distracted. Did you know the planet is
as self healing as those scabs on my grandkids knees?

ah, caper, eh? Capere, to grasp, to take,
ceive means accept by taking,
be liefing an idea ceived ex nihilo, is likened unto

Drinking from a still pond in a distant land. Sults,
results. may result in,
Dear Rhea revenging Montezuma, at a gut level.

However, a sort of how in an open mind facing forever,
a sort of omni-directional saliency
seeing further,
--Bomb, Jesus-bomb--

At least two reasons for thinking Jesus is objective, out side
you or inside you. You aren't Jesus. Jesus is a friend of mine,
in my mind, object-if-I-try
to pray, listen pray hopes
happen
shapes form
forever from ever point, every point, not of, in buy

a why..
why does a y on the end of every mean any thing?

That's the y-factor. You will learn why wise men still seek those.
As treasure, they are light, and the taste is beyond

the grasp of tongue to tell

that whole class of moded-ever words weave wards
whenever, forever, however, whatever
used proper, everafter,
that will save Dresden, some time, we think.

However, now, Rhea by name has entered the game.

Who is this named femofame? What game is she good in?
Or does she just knock the **** out of lying spirits?
Cool.

Ah, mother of all the gods, I recall, I mean
I meant to say
I remember, then I for got the power words hold here
exactly heare in eleven metrixed mentions,

this point, in time, not of time.
In the world, not of the world, you've heard the pharse?
The allusion is not lost on you, you know the phrase,

In the world, not of the world, holier men than I have
claimed to be, while I follow a few fine words,
linguistic kief, sprinkled fairy dust, like the stuff
captured in the gleaming film on your
microscopic-outer eye

see a salient point in time.

A pin point 'pon which one,
no more,
one story begins for ever, a gain in good net
value, if

we have tasted that word, chewed the gristle,
indigestible ligaments and sin-yews and such,
which once anchored meat to bone,

value is first good. Good e nough, nough
Gut genug, okeh,
maybe not my best, my best is yet to come, they say.

sufficient for today
------

enough (adj.)
c. 1300, from Old English genog "sufficient in quantity or number,"
from Proto-Germanic compound *ganog "sufficient"
(source also of Old Saxon ginog,
Old Frisian enoch, Dutch genoeg,
Old High German ginuog, German genug,
Old Norse gnogr, Gothic ganohs).
First element is Old English ge- "with, together"
(also a participial, collective, intensive, or perfective prefix),
making this word the most prominent surviving example
of the Old English prefix,
the equivalent of Latin com- and Modern German ge- 
(from PIE *kom- "beside, near, by, with;" see com-).
Second element is from PIE *nok-, from root *nek- (2)
"to reach, attain"
(source also of Sanskrit asnoti "to reach,"
Hittite ninikzi "lifts, raises,"
Lithuanian nešti "to bear, carry," Latin nancisci "to obtain").

As an adverb, "sufficiently for the purpose,"
in Old English; meaning
"moderately, fairly, tolerably" (good enough) was in Middle English. Understated sense, as in have had enough "have had too much" was in Old English (which relied heavily on double negatives and understatement).

As a noun in Old English,
"a quantity or number sufficient for the purpose." As an interjection, "that is enough," from c. 1600. Colloquial 'nough said is attested from 1839.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/enough#etymonlinev8703>
Godliness with contentment is great gain, a precept I was chewing on following a ritual holy day of gratitude to goodness for goodness sake in my cultural gut genug state of mind.
Sometimes, what's left behind
is better than what was there in the first place
Roule, roule ton flot indolent, morne Seine. -

Sur tes ponts qu'environne une vapeur malsaine

Bien des corps ont passé, morts, horribles, pourris,

Dont les âmes avaient pour meurtrier Paris.

Mais tu n'en traînes pas, en tes ondes glacées,

Autant que ton aspect m'inspire de pensées !


Le Tibre a sur ses bords des ruines qui font

Monter le voyageur vers un passé profond,

Et qui, de lierre noir et de lichen couvertes,

Apparaissent, tas gris, parmi les herbes vertes.

Le *** Guadalquivir rit aux blonds orangers

Et reflète, les soirs, des boléros légers,

Le Pactole a son or, le Bosphore a sa rive

Où vient faire son kief l'odalisque lascive.

Le Rhin est un burgrave, et c'est un troubadour

Que le Lignon, et c'est un ruffian que l'Adour.

Le Nil, au bruit plaintif de ses eaux endormies,

Berce de rêves doux le sommeil des momies.

Le grand Meschascébé, fier de ses joncs sacrés,

Charrie augustement ses îlots mordorés,

Et soudain, beau d'éclairs, de fracas et de fastes,

Splendidement s'écroule en Niagaras vastes.

L'Eurotas, où l'essaim des cygnes familiers

Mêle sa grâce blanche au vert mat des lauriers,

Sous son ciel clair que raie un vol de gypaète,

Rhythmique et caressant, chante ainsi qu'un poète.

Enfin, Ganga, parmi les hauts palmiers tremblants

Et les rouges padmas, marche à pas fiers et lents

En appareil royal, tandis qu'au **** la foule

Le long des temples va, hurlant, vivante houle,

Au claquement massif des cymbales de bois,

Et qu'accroupi, filant ses notes de hautbois,

Du saut de l'antilope agile attendant l'heure,

Le tigre jaune au dos rayé s'étire et pleure.

- Toi, Seine, tu n'as rien. Deux quais, et voilà tout,

Deux quais crasseux, semés de l'un à l'autre bout

D'affreux bouquins moisis et d'une foule insigne

Qui fait dans l'eau des ronds et qui pêche à la ligne.

Oui, mais quand vient le soir, raréfiant enfin

Les passants alourdis de sommeil ou de faim,

Et que le couchant met au ciel des taches rouges,

Qu'il fait bon aux rêveurs descendre de leurs bouges

Et, s'accoudant au pont de la Cité, devant

Notre-Dame, songer, cœur et cheveux au vent !

Les nuages, chassés par la brise nocturne,

Courent, cuivreux et roux, dans l'azur taciturne.

Sur la tête d'un roi du portail, le soleil,

Au moment de mourir, pose un baiser vermeil.

L'Hirondelle s'enfuit à l'approche de l'ombre.

Et l'on voit voleter la chauve-souris sombre.

Tout bruit s'apaise autour. À peine un vague son

Dit que la ville est là qui chante sa chanson,

Qui lèche ses tyrans et qui mord ses victimes ;

Et c'est l'aube des vols, des amours et des crimes.

- Puis, tout à coup, ainsi qu'un ténor effaré

Lançant dans l'air bruni son cri désespéré,

Son cri qui se lamente, et se prolonge, et crie,

Éclate en quelque coin l'orgue de Barbarie :

Il brame un de ces airs, romances ou polkas,

Qu'enfants nous tapotions sur nos harmonicas

Et qui font, lents ou vifs, réjouissants ou tristes,

Vibrer l'âme aux proscrits, aux femmes, aux artistes.

C'est écorché, c'est faux, c'est horrible, c'est dur,

Et donnerait la fièvre à Rossini, pour sûr ;

Ces rires sont traînés, ces plaintes sont hachées ;

Sur une clef de sol impossible juchées,

Les notes ont un rhume et les do sont des la,

Mais qu'importe ! l'on pleure en entendant cela !

Mais l'esprit, transporté dans le pays des rêves,

Sent à ces vieux accords couler en lui des sèves ;

La pitié monte au cœur et les larmes aux yeux,

Et l'on voudrait pouvoir goûter la paix des cieux,

Et dans une harmonie étrange et fantastique

Qui tient de la musique et tient de la plastique,

L'âme, les inondant de lumière et de chant,

Mêle les sons de l'orgue aux rayons du couchant !


- Et puis l'orgue s'éloigne, et puis c'est le silence,

Et la nuit terne arrive et Vénus se balance

Sur une molle nue au fond des cieux obscurs :

On allume les becs de gaz le long des murs.

Et l'astre et les flambeaux font des zigzags fantasques

Dans le fleuve plus noir que le velours des masques ;

Et le contemplateur sur le haut garde-fou

Par l'air et par les ans rouillé comme un vieux sou

Se penche, en proie aux vents néfastes de l'abîme.

Pensée, espoir serein, ambition sublime,

Tout, jusqu'au souvenir, tout s'envole, tout fuit,

Et l'on est seul avec Paris, l'Onde et la Nuit !


- Sinistre trinité ! De l'ombre dures portes !

Mané-Thécel-Pharès des illusions mortes !

Vous êtes toutes trois, ô Goules de malheur,

Si terribles, que l'Homme, ivre de la douleur

Que lui font en perçant sa chair vos doigts de spectre,

L'Homme, espèce d'Oreste à qui manque une Électre,

Sous la fatalité de votre regard creux

Ne peut rien et va droit au précipice affreux ;

Et vous êtes aussi toutes trois si jalouses

De tuer et d'offrir au grand Ver des épouses

Qu'on ne sait que choisir entre vos trois horreurs,

Et si l'on craindrait moins périr par les terreurs

Des Ténèbres que sous l'Eau sourde, l'Eau profonde,

Ou dans tes bras fardés, Paris, reine du monde !


- Et tu coules toujours, Seine, et, tout en rampant,

Tu traînes dans Paris ton cours de vieux serpent,

De vieux serpent boueux, emportant vers tes havres

Tes cargaisons de bois, de houille et de cadavres !
Andrew Wenson Nov 2014
Just 'cause I eat don't mean I waste
Didn't they pick the brain best for me
'fore I came out into the big sterile box?

Anyone speaking anything:
Look at, glare, scowl
Sniff palms before dance party
a little talc, not scary no more
Personality a *****, shoes too big
won't buy new, no new new no!
I'm faking it for a ticket to ride
source my quotes and I pretend
to tolerate your music blog monologue

Come on with me to manifest dreams!
space behind the couch where kief is free!
Couple decades to spare and the **** stacks high
Playing the bucket like a drum
Fair-trade hand-made local organic counterfeit bills
No Mama, I don' wanna punch card.
Dad, I ain't payin' rent 'er union dues
Tax man's comin' eat the root strike it too!

If I was a hippie don'tcha think I'd giggle?
I'm a good choreographer but this costume's threadbare
All the chakras in the world can't melt cold bars
The Black Iron Prison is bigger than God.
I become small, let me be the breath......
The baby's first laugh.
My desk is never clean.
pipes and wads of paper
broken pencils and half full glasses of water
a mostly finished bottle of wine.
the cork is lying around here somewhere
my wax melter spilled little candles
and there is a thin layer of kief under my mat.
I do everything here
with a rolling chair I found
I'm not sure where anymore
draped coat arms dance when I spin around
in the chair, swinging up to say hello
to me, pen in hand,
a fresh glass of water to soon join the others
and a lamp that is too bright for my eyes
Harry J Baxter Feb 2014
the same toothless chatter heard always
bruised biceps scratched with defensive wounds
too hungover for spanish class
so it’s a bowl of kief for the remedy
I’m singing in the rain
only it’s sunny out
and the toads are all escaping
hop up on another high
and scrape up against a new low
are we there yet?
Rock Bottom looks a lot like your apartment
forge filigreed with fools gold
black eyes and sore knees
soaking wet sleeping in a doorway
so long as the DMT is purple and not orange
then we’ll soon be biblical prophets
touched by God so that we could better understand
that the dishes aren’t going to do themselves
ever tried to pronounce psilocybin when you’re tripping?
cough medicine has another meaning
it’s just like the music videos
only my heart is exploding
my chest caving in
and the hurricane inside my head is blind
spark up another sweet
and pour another glass of sour
be well rested
tomorrow you’ve got another spanish class to not go to  

I just took too much
all of these walls are still spinning
******* I’m high
BLitZeD Feb 2016
As I wonder, I conjure a monster with this wand and my honor.
I ponder how you can squander my genre, I'm lava.
Anacondas to lamas, venomous, I'm black mambas.
Garfield comma lasagna, that's pasta.
Comets comment on the trauma after I bombed ya.  
***** iguana after the ***** in the Bahamas.
In the cabana like Osama, hide and seek, trying to avoid the drama.
but my Pride hunts and peaks when I speak,
A void, this is the 3Y3 of the BLitZ3D SAGA.
Blunts of kief while I reap, hydroponic droid.
Quick like Raffekie but I lead like Mufassa.
I'm Scar to hyenas, and yes I am Luke's Father.
Hiatus, I'm too high, I am a Sky Walker.
Hydra made, I claim Dark Mage
Use 3's when I write, and spell magic with a K.
Your gana need to come harder.
This is Tree times 3 vs Special K.
Said **** it and versed myself 3 ways that one day.
It was MagiKal, see the intentional K?
Savage truth, My pills red.
Down the rabbit hole, I'm here to stay.
Reach out an ravage your ankle.
Pull you in, M.I.B. I'm Agent-K.
Mage In Black, Dark Arts,
Matrix word play, not an absurd grey.
Prometheus, I am Predator,
A.I., I-Robot, I Am Legend,
Will Smith, Independence Day.
Annunaki I am a descendant.
The First Demi they selected,
Earths representative that slays.
An entity,
When they spoke of god, what they meant was me.
The incarnation of uncertainty.
Hell bent on carnage, feeds on false beliefs.
"The Scripture", "Birthed from the streets."
A reputation you cant tarnish.
I don't expect relief.
Mercy is for the week.
I'll die standing before I ever drop to a knee.
The first to leap.
I AM BLitZ3D.
THIS IS TH3 3Y3'S OF TH3 L3GACY THAT IS M3.
"E.T"
"A Lion, A Demon, A Creature Of Myth, An Alien Being"
Plasma is on the page but ET's not bleeding.
Thats just my pen leaking, Kracken ink can be misleading.
Submerged marines, Titanic icebergs, Atlantis reemerge on my command , sorcerer supreme, Gigantic knights Converge,
Looped in a green screen dream sequence scene theme,
"The Sheep Will Always Scream"
Eye of the storm, I am Dopamine
I am dope, I mean. Am I not dope man?
I am the dope man to the feigns
(To Be Continued...)
http://www.writerscafe.org/blitzed
BLitZeD Feb 2016
As I wonder, I conjure a monster with this wand and my honor.
I ponder how you can squander my genre, I'm lava.
Anacondas to lamas, venomous, I'm black mambas.
Garfield comma lasagna, that's pasta.
Comets comment on the trauma after I bombed ya.  
***** iguana after the ***** in the Bahamas.
In the cabana like Osama, hide and seek, trying to avoid the drama.
but my Pride hunts and peaks when I speak,
A void, this is the 3Y3 of the BLitZ3D SAGA.
Blunts of kief while I reap, hydroponic droid.
Quick like Raffekie but I lead like Mufassa.
I'm Scar to hyenas, and yes I am Luke's Father.
Hiatus, I'm too high, I am a Sky Walker.
Hydra made, I claim Dark Mage
Use 3's when I write, and spell magic with a K.
Your gana need to come harder.
This is Tree times 3 vs Special K.
Said **** it and versed myself 3 ways that one day.
It was MagiKal, see the intentional K?
Savage truth, My pills red.
Down the rabbit hole, I'm here to stay.
Reach out an ravage your ankle.
Pull you in, M.I.B. I'm Agent-K.
Mage In Black, Dark Arts,
Matrix word play, not an absurd grey.
Prometheus, I am Predator,
A.I., I-Robot, I Am Legend,
Will Smith, Independence Day.
Annunaki I am a descendant.
The First Demi they selected,
Earths representative that slays.
An entity,
When they spoke of god, what they meant was me.
The incarnation of uncertainty.
Hell bent on carnage, feeds on false beliefs.
"The Scripture", "Birthed from the streets."
A reputation you cant tarnish.
I don't expect relief.
Mercy is for the weak.
I'll die standing before I ever drop to a knee.
The first to leap.
I AM BLitZ3D.
THIS IS TH3 3Y3'S OF TH3 L3GACY THAT IS M3.
"E.T"
"A Lion, A Demon, A Creature Of Myth, An Alien Being"
Plasma is on the page but ET's not bleeding.
Thats just my pen leaking, Kracken ink can be misleading.
Submerged marines, Titanic icebergs, Atlantis reemerge on my command , sorcerer supreme, Gigantic knights Converge,
Looped in a green screen dream sequence scene theme,
"The Sheep Will Always Scream"
Eye of the storm, I am Dopamine
I am dope, I mean. Am I not dope man?
I am the dope man to the feigns
(To Be Continued...)
- See more at: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/blitzed/1722009/#sthash.zRxiJxNK.dpuf
Cate Apr 2015
...and at the end
I'm scrambling for just a little more
**** and for words
and your redundant rambling
is broken English
trying to communicate things
I'll never understand.
When I remember my last wish
I check the kief catch
the last shot 'till I'm dry
and with an empty barrel
and hollow sloshing guts,
my porous bones will snap
under the weight
of morality's fate
and my wayward ways.
I'll crash into a parade
of memories
that will spiral around me
as I plummet into the geyser
that last dopamine rush
that will ****** me into
the fifth dimension
the crystalline eclipse
of what is yet unknown
and forever undiscovered.

c.e.m. 4.28
Le soleil verse aux toits des chambres mal fermées
Ses urnes enflammées ;
En attendant le kief, toutes sont là, pâmées,
Sur les divans brodés de chimères armées ;

Annès, Nazlès, Assims, Bourbaras, Zalimées,
En lin blanc, la prunelle et la joue allumées
Par le fard, parfumées,
Tirant des narghilés de légères fumées,

Ou buvant, ranimées,
Les ongles teints, les doigts illustrés de camées,
Dans les dés d'argent fin des liqueurs renommées.

Sur les coussins vêtus d'étoffes imprimées,
Dans des poses d'almées,
Voluptueusement fument les bien-aimées.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
you can drag me into a "sanity"
of your... "society"...
but i quit...
at... the point... of you... dragging me...
onto the self-laceration
of a crucifix of your:
right-no-wrong...
"right-every-wrong": sort-of...
this insanity of an "argument":
this: da-sein: of...
                nicht-sein: ein "da:....
     the madmen and mad-madam:
who are, you...
cookie-flippin' culture...
half-bakes of the already
arrived at... oven crispy...
spaghetti cul-de-sacs?!
              i... vont...
hugo... boss...
                grausteifbeispiele!
ich brauchen!
                düster-als-schwartz...
geheimestaatspolizei:
gehenna fetishes:
could zis... 'un...
be excused...
for the love of the Iranian...
shah - pahlavi -
the love of baklava...
                     and the baháʼí...
moscou... muscovitte...
   little kiev... bogus l'vov...
and creed in towing...
                     vilnius...
                         konrad... von wallenrode...

safe: keeping... a "ditto"...
and there are those... mosquitos...
jerks... irks...
the ditto-head replicas of lacerated:
old crave... a new Warsaw:
                                     WAR-SZ-AWA!

replica of 19th, 20th, 21st... english...
illuminations...
the bribed... sand-*******...
the lawrence-of-arabia:
sand-******... wannbies...
sand-****** / camel-jockey...
who's witch cnut-now?

                  who's what...
there's a knightbridge...
and a faking... bengali earned...
alms for a: lamborghini rode...

i am of... being most profound...
when found... allocated...
a lost... bride of a heart...
in exile...
to have to... puzzle the "box"....
i am most... irritated:
but in the best of humour...
this i cannot... sacrifice...
this advent...

      i have been away from masovia...
geared toward: hünd!
             toward... a blinding: sight...

my first girlfriend...
french... grenoble....
          Isabellah...
my second girlfriend...
Promis... australia...
perth...
                    a "third"...
Ilona... st. petersburg...
        i much wander into the conversation
with the brain...
for the time spent...
among the ukranian and the romanian
******...

no... Ilona was...
i ****** her before an altar
of a mirror at st. petersburg...
she was from... Novosibirsk..
half of half of a:
"kief"...
  akin to... alexander zed grek....
              athens: moscow...
macedonia: ukraine:
   blah kiev...
          soviet chernobyll... blah blah...
half meets...
                         the edinburgh...
loved up at plaistow kindergarten
hearts...
            nights are all satin...
               cow gate... riddle with ugly...
****-garden of man and woe...
the future ambitions of her...
closure "self"...

or muslim g.p.s....
north... bias...
thus: east... not ends... mecca:
         surprises...
east what "east"...
  north the basic libido of a scintific
inquiry...
and the forever lost and loop...

           i want to fall in love
with music again...
nights in white satin - the moody blues...
gyöngyhajú lány - omega...

             i want to fall in love...
with a love that's not inquisitive of
a burden of youth...
i want to fall in love...
that's... crevice limbo...
loitering... a man of crease...
a man of...
she did resolve the measure...
she has delved into the eyes
of seas...
                   maggie smith...

i didn't watch the... t.v. pursuit...
i watched the movie adaptation...
she did have...
eyes the worth of twin seas...
how did she do it?
beside the creases...
the cringing...
my great-grandmother esque
"wording"...
she has had eyes that blinked via the bodies
of confined mummies!
such crisp youth...
such... baron first matters...
        
her skin could have become crease...
as paper... leveraged... loiter of waiting for: rain...
but her eyes... so...
the fear that zombies mastered: so alive!

i do want to... die...
in a company of strangers...
that deserve to be complimented...
since... i can't... die... with a frivolity...
or death spiral... or daffodil... "my cousin" dear...
my grandmother dearest...
my grandfather dearest...
on my mother's side...
i have been... excused to minding...
a father...
a father with a mother a father with a father...

i am.. pauper... with and without...
this one-sided equation...
whizz kid the lesser of the otherwise: twinning of evils.

a chis cornell...
is no clive owen...
  in the court of the crimson king...
           who's the lesser and of the lessened few /
queue?
              the andromeda of
the best confiscated mind...
the overtly confined...
   and the dreamless attache...
              of the skip-a-true... toward...
a turtle... equipped...
                baron leverage over...
             making... time... a parody.
Gypsy Dec 2020
Here I am trying to live
The death within me
My terror of intimacy
In this destruction
I truly feel alive
My kief,
Hashish
My ***** pipe
******
My drug
My vice
Choked and pained
My Religion
An approval addict
The Moth
The Flame
Dormant like flowers in the desert
Addiction
A work in progress
A refuge
A solace
The greatest evils
The foolishness
Self-destructive martyrdom
Then the consequence of digging a hole
Crawled into my brain.

Gypsy

— The End —