the cup was never a cake

Freshly squeezed foundation of molten green clay
shapeshifting into the certainty of uncertainty the tomrmenting claims of the minds disease fade away faster and faster and until the clammoring voices cease i will wear my outsides inside out clinging to the resistence that smiles
taking into account the other, now the path is tread with no lending ear to sing to softly and quite inconveniently at the best part of the song, mixing quietly in the innocent piles of her hair, a waiting room for disaster, but incalcuable plodding was being done by the master, whos face glowed red behing the evershifting green maleable container.
contained within this bag:
nail clippers
pair of gloves
black lipstick
all striving for equality i cannot and will not choose between your quality and quantity find the taste of the nasal injection refundatory
the cup was never a cake
until today

3 thoughts on “the cup was never a cake

  1. …until today.
    And so we spoke of a wold that was fresh and new and ever changing, growing from pain and cynicism with an elemental grace.
    Speak easy … :)

  2. The cup was never a cake: when
    Pepermint candy penetrated
    peppermint patty and sam hill
    alive shot 40 fu*%#ing Lincolns on fort fruit
    burning away the alchemy today we know as

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