Rabbits with golden masks holding ancient caskets. The last of those old masters passed not long after. Broken mirrors in the hallway of confusion, "forgive my intrusion" the wallpaper says to the boldface graffiti adorning the flowers. "I've lost my cognizance, and along goes my conscience"
I can't find five reasons to give up on that song, to leave that unmade just seems plain wrong
How did that saying go they spoke in the wild "It'll all be here Tuesday, with a smile and lemonade"
Most won't acknowledge the bluster in silence, mocking us with its spills of rambunctious embroidered noise, layered like cheese on those old school macs. Indeed the past never was, just is. Can't you hear it's echoing in the atoms that sit inside your blurred eyes. Like a whisper it asks "remember me?" Asking for room to make itself known. Lost, it seems to hover, a ghost with no shame, knowing that when the last mind thinks of it, it can finally be free. No burden of thought to muddle its waters. No hatred for it or love to despair. Enough of that though, Sirius is throwing things at me again. Cobalt orbs that shimmer and crack, whips of light leaving streaks in the sky that I couldn't recount on my bestest of days. At least she's not gone for a while. Green windows that lead to ashen lands, or ones greener still, hard to say with that eye on the wall. I think when it blinks the tide turns sour, wasn't it's iris just red? Lost again on a train of thought, but the boxcars are matted with ivys and growth. Someone let mother nature out to long, done grew roots in my brains amd throat. How's that for science. "What a schmuck" the one with pancake batter dripping from his nose spoke. But no one payed him any mind. The Walrus was on. They didn't realize the fat rolls had teeth till it was too late. They were all toothless by the time it struck 7. But just in time too because they all had cake, no chewing involved. You know I heard a story once of a piper and the rabbits. You know the ones, gold faces, those ones. Good God keep it together man, this isn't the end. Like I said they all got together and made a sled. But they all lived in Kansas and had no horses, so what's the point anyway? Not like rabbits could pull that man, he had gout from the hoagies. Not just any old gout, it was one for the ages, two stone and counting, but who would? Gross. They never settled and roam to this day, but don't get most anywhere, stuck in a time loop see? Only ever get within 5 miles of a Dennys in Topeka. Sad for them, but if you'd heard their songs you'd be grateful. For rabbits they can't keep a beat. Better off with ravens. That's what the old man said anyway. But he also thought aliens wanted his testicles. Wrapped them in foil and all. Typical tweaker, but the only thing he smoked was shoelaces. Don't ask me, he said the yetis told him that trick. I'd rather listen to gremlins ask me for a snack at 3 a.m., at least then you can put a lid on the toaster. Not like you'd be any less shocked seeing your face after that bullfight. I suppose I'll leave you with this, never ask for a horse fly when you mean a mollusk, they just don't taste the same on a pb&j.
