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 ::