I’m a maniac for various raisins. They come in a red pack. And it all makes sense in a frugal kind of way, like piracy, or Tupperware. I’m not known for my misconduct as much as my neglect. But this is all a disguise. I’m meant for higher, nobler topics, the fruits of philosophy and the sympathies of the cello. What are these if not potential lapels? As for pockets, I can never have enough pockets. I carry so much stuff around I’ve begun thinking of myself as a marsupial. It’s all going to happen at the hop. At the hop hop hop. We’re going to rock rock rock. Juxtaposition is the key to proximity. It’s not my favorite island, but I like the consonants, and the openness of the vowels, and the way they sway between whys and wherefores, bringing coolness to the vinyl and timbre for the comparisons, of which there are many, both similar & dissimilar like all simulacrums. Even the shiftless occasionally shift. It’s all in the dice, & tinkling little bells.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment