( via / me )

"Sometimes trying to shift your mind into verbal is like trying to put a writhing two-year old baby into a snow suit. It just doesn’t want to go there."

random # 191 = 564 in base-7; 5 + 6 + 4 = 15 lines

searing guitar solo
consoles deranged angels
out of no mean instinct
   & hurled to the void
   unless you viewed

guitar solo talion
attains advanced cancer
just another nasty
   announcement sown
   in the Cthulhucene

the guitar weeps tipsy
tang of former mangles
none this town bred braver
   the instrument ebbs
   in solid orbs

Keep Waiting?

"You can hear the silence of it:
you can hear the rat of no-man's-land
rut out intricacies,
weasel-out his patient workings
scrut, scrut, scrut,
harrow-out earthly, trowel his cunning paw"

--David Jones via

We are Builders of Augmented Dreams.