Bedbugs VI

Bedbugs VI



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Winded matters don't tell me that dogmatic astigmatism
sounds pretentious. Nearly everything we say does,
uttered a violet intention. Twelve round black
dots on the wall proudly display its water
damage, which "K" thinks will float no
matter how bad the storm gets. There's
little need to fight; please ask her to stop
looking at me. Flying East, I observe from
the swamp. It feels empty, I feel empty, until
"Perry" decides that none of us are. Unfiltered
athsmatic joy is taken in with each breath.
Calm as the Hindu cows can be, I manage to
rattle them when I make my way out of the barn
wandering around the empty train station somehow, on the
fifth floor of my abandoned mind brings joy!
Stairwell lights flicker from my intention.
Can't lose this rusty feeling even if those
three figures in the hallway are waiting
for me to give up. Child's toys,
they claim. What do they know, they're
not even in focus. Drive down the parkway
with Getty's diopters open. The texture of
the ground in a dulled brain is like a decrepit
70's bathroom. Am I wasting my time,
I ask her? She doesn't respond slaughter in
the name of anyone is still walking in the
fog with my keys trying to find my car.
Tittered at the sight of it. It's a new year
as of today. Wind my watch for me.





Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:



-one tone rings out and continues
-he's crying like he saw on TV
-neuroleptic's delight
-scattered and directed
-animal instinct
-red buttons, run a thumb over them
-burn out every chamber



-Adam
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