Somewhere up mute beach

Too bad they didn't forecast better days. So now we go way beyond our surgically planted beliefs. Rub our ancestors ashes into ancient ruins. Well its all a doom menu.

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They are gonna line up to piss on your grave. Teenagers on the skull phone. The empty feeling of my redacted memories. The executioner wears a virus mask.

• Another spider down the hatch. Fields of ripe tumble weeds. The human Devine dinner. The unusual tonic poured on soft cheeses. Poisonous snakes nestle up to me in my winter bed.

• I'm taking my hate powered scooter to town. She wears her special bonnet in the wind. Clarity bolted to folded choices. All is lost, kill yourself and then kill your boss. The future has locked it's doors. So I'm drinking coca cola by the old Victrola. Soul soft puppy loft in the span of the heartlands. The eyebrow cross the hollow grave. The grope menu. The golden bone that makes everything alright. Cement shoes strutting down the avenue.

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Eating voodoo dolls in the bright moonlight. More faster laughter splatters on the windshield. Murky plumes of the dark horse that guards the tomb.