Ask the technology at night
Why Palymemnon does it so
He fixes up his toys with fright
But can't get to my own Wi-Fi
Without causing a display of
Pure sorrow- Tell Palymemnon
I'm so fed up with his old shop
For the walls and nails do quite reek
It smells, it smells, it smells, it smells
Perhaps he shouldn't go a week
Without some bodily cleaning
Stop rocking the boat, damn it all!
This water is so high up, shawl-
The red clouds have been passing 'round
His screams do not stop, understand
I never understood shivers
I need to get out of water
It's a thing of the dampened past
Palymemnon
His organs reek of gas.
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry from the Depths
Horror(The painting in the cover is by painter Nicola Samori) Do y'ever just wish to feel the chills of the ethereal down your spine? Have you wondered what life is like outside your material universe? Did you ever posit the idea, that a good bout of uns...
