wild onion fractal

417 Hz

All worlds are formed and sealed within secret eyes

behind a wall of hungry hymns
i chalk the monk’s cue and sob in wait

It wasn’t even a squirrel
just a reflection

burning handcuffed hogs (do i smell bacon?)
jumping from the rebel nest and logging out

carp in the stream feed on our goals
tearing love and other tragedies to shreds

your walrus thumb makes the evening news
and it all falls apart again

scientists smash bum skulls

What after party?