Mitch
05-16-2014, 08:01 PM
Evaporating souls in internet frying pans
collect spores to compare, throwing their wartorn in the air.
warsworn to commute, i sip my water with a drip of med to dilute
My finger tips are lead,
etched in the grooves of every slit.
I wrestle the rules until i'm to tired to win. I whine a lot.
I might finish a final plot with a significance that blends
every flaw from imperfect to critical in the processions of events,
from then to this.
I remember when i was young enough
to understand my mind enough
to question the change taking place,
so destined by the radio waves,
and entertainers training our brains,
paving the way to penitentiary, gold engraved in cracks.
Trick them to mine their own then they'll pay in tax.
The head is full of tales that masquerade as facts...
slowly eating itself till it disappears,
serpent or a centipede? Curling in curtain tears,
awkward and undiverse. Universal feeling, lost in a sudden surf.
Subterrainian alien launch pad, clotting the mother earth.
Solar sodomy, haunting the economies shadow like shallow salaries
of biological manufacturing colonies accounting calories.
I answer the call of war like there's a draft in my outer reach,
programming casts thick as the arms beneath. Armageddon,
I'ma getting my stash of guns, catch me one beneath,
Like annexed parent planets, besides pre-cise they both sung unseen.
that rabbit holes a faster globe, its magnetic underneath
magnetic touching feet with fuzzy force for kicks and buckled knees.
A suttle score, zilch to zero... my hero's on another team.
Picture a flower wilting in a big machine,
picture a factory with bunny rabbits running happily.
picture math to add the pros with cons,
then mix until a soldiers born.
two faces, two stories,
too basic, too boring,
today and, tomorrow
collect spores to compare, throwing their wartorn in the air.
warsworn to commute, i sip my water with a drip of med to dilute
My finger tips are lead,
etched in the grooves of every slit.
I wrestle the rules until i'm to tired to win. I whine a lot.
I might finish a final plot with a significance that blends
every flaw from imperfect to critical in the processions of events,
from then to this.
I remember when i was young enough
to understand my mind enough
to question the change taking place,
so destined by the radio waves,
and entertainers training our brains,
paving the way to penitentiary, gold engraved in cracks.
Trick them to mine their own then they'll pay in tax.
The head is full of tales that masquerade as facts...
slowly eating itself till it disappears,
serpent or a centipede? Curling in curtain tears,
awkward and undiverse. Universal feeling, lost in a sudden surf.
Subterrainian alien launch pad, clotting the mother earth.
Solar sodomy, haunting the economies shadow like shallow salaries
of biological manufacturing colonies accounting calories.
I answer the call of war like there's a draft in my outer reach,
programming casts thick as the arms beneath. Armageddon,
I'ma getting my stash of guns, catch me one beneath,
Like annexed parent planets, besides pre-cise they both sung unseen.
that rabbit holes a faster globe, its magnetic underneath
magnetic touching feet with fuzzy force for kicks and buckled knees.
A suttle score, zilch to zero... my hero's on another team.
Picture a flower wilting in a big machine,
picture a factory with bunny rabbits running happily.
picture math to add the pros with cons,
then mix until a soldiers born.
two faces, two stories,
too basic, too boring,
today and, tomorrow