Saturday, November 19, 2011


I have seen the best minds of my generation again, where crack slouches
in the trenches of a beemer key, chemical vapors perspire from shuffling feet ascending
sweet pinas accelerated blood pressures and kite girls who go-go to singer mornings
reflecting oil spills. Trunk rings of rainbows sawed in halves by veins
in between their toes, a harvest of dilated pupils and auditory climaxes in the Sun.
Exchanges of hand palms and velvet cushions, a splash of alcoholic saliva passed
around themain-floor of balloons, floaters and baggies. Beagle sniffs of illicit
aerial fist pumps and slow motions before strobing images. Justified ice cube
costs waived by handing out risks of erectile dysfunction. Crowded energy and stilted
breakfast club distracted by fog machine exhuming strawberry
cotton candy and mint shisha. Ashtrays filled with orange peel
butts and sail white other ones. Multiply los dorados and bake it to a caramelized
creme. Grab a bite don’t that taste ne pas le meme. Wheat straw after a quick draw,
rebounds of resonance in a splendid trance, off tympanic membranes and into open
skies of metal ceilings. No matter how hard telepathy is in this humidity, major lasers
scan the crowd like scattered barcodes. Feed chants as Mario punches
a block and repeats, crisis for a mushroom in luncheon, but stroll in the sphere
dusty trails winding. Gin and tonic high in the air like a status symbol
torch, even if they must return to their crying tasks of tomorrow
at least they will have a sanctuary, belonging to all those enchanted,
adding shading to the truth, in the free hawk open charmed into a valley of used.

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