The Machine Hiccups
We drove ourselves and it hurts to sit down in wheelchairs
outside by the greasy road where Mannequins wave our way
from inside genetically modified
insects; my lover drives a blue scarab
across the desert land and leaves the most surreal tracks
of disturbed dirt.
Perhaps someone creative has an ice tea I can sip to quell my
parched heart.
Inevitable. Please, can I have a drink to inflate my aching
heart?
And those hot air balloons are too low toward the grounds
& watching Golem reaching upward
to knock them like geeks out of the Royal Azure skies -- and
they call me a freak//i believe the G.O.D. forgot his umbrella
before he fell from our skies\\ and
so who is the freak?
UNSUPPORTED CODE
:: 08-23-2016 ::
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