They’ve not asked themselves so very many maniacal… answers anymore, actually(.) Haven’t EVEN been thinking in a straight-and-meandering line, indeed(they DO seem to set-the-scene…

of open-ended alchemy amidst this…)

DIRE, dire need: to feel f-r-e-e – AND fuksake ultimately worth the weight of this world (of ours and theirs and everyONE else’s, actually.)

What we imagine them to have seen IS a Rather Utopian Scene of horrifically disjointed beWILDER(!!) And it has ceaselessly happened amidst—
The designed AND DESIGNATED mind of the decade/ a bloodyLUST list of PROMISINGLY pArAdeD and parody-fAzEd people and it CAN cause—

Us to sit AND STAND immediately before a shapeshifting mirror, it’s been acting… all of its own

Utterly grotesque accord, and NOT. ONE. WORD. NOW: but for the pain (WHICH SWIMS) with—IN THEIR

BeautyofBrain. Silence now, for the aforeMENTIONED MEANDER OF UNACCOUNTABLE MONEY means…

Nothing. Just this affable Artist and THAT CALL-TO-CANvas- as she stares… lockTIGHT and with READIED fists of FURY… at these trippiest of fLowErS which will silently s-i-t

in a faceless VASE(!!) How can we EVER trust them YET again, though(?!) By letting them be

Perfectly ThemSelves… POSSIBLY, Please(!)