These words flow like an ocean knows no bounds. Plastic sugar-coated desserts and calories bloated. Over-stuffed Christmas bodies floated. Semi-automatic assault poem from right to left. Two hemispheres clash to test the worst and best.
I should have gone to law school. Focused on money not art. Where to start. Let’s make it end. Each word must engage to portend. Speak to a higher power. Write ones legacy. If not, do not waste this hour.
Time does not exist. It is a dance within an eternal twist of fate and space. The chance that we might be neither here nor there. The everything in the nothing. The knowing in the unknowing. The order in the chaos. No guilt. No loss.
It must be mapped. It must be contained. Bottled and refrained. A one inch formula for this infinite fracture. Once found it will be turned into a way to rebound from this economic downfall. Turning space into gold. Sold at the nearest strip mall.
A cliff quickens before the unknown. It does not bother itself with economics. It does not toe party lines. For its waters flow thick through our blood. Pushing us forward through the veins of time. Towards the infinite sublime. Where there is no right or left. Only one mind, unchecked, un-wrecked.