Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Bus Flowers

In the Leviathan's library, dreamt up from sentient syllables, a bioluminescent Angel of Death underpins our solar system's arcade queef. Underpins our planet's faucet-buzz. The curiosity of freely associating with lasers in the bathroom mirror's lunar sac. Of mnemonic balls' typhoid-neuron hinging on a curious green screen. Operatic horror-stick chooses its own adventure through MRI vagina's pop-up omnipresence. Bothers infinity. Projectile vomits on a bus. Caught in anomalous slime-crimes. The ghost's exoskeleton passing a giant bird's cock-hole on primordial skis.  

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