From the anthology, Monster Trees, a work in progress.
Word Painting In Black and White Cubed ice dismantling the plank bridge with pliers made of syrup spilled with a dash of grief and brawn the reptilian doughboy mixes up another cosmic batch of truth cookies designed to mislead with wishes of the big power grab all manifesting inside the largest television set ever devised with a flat screen as big as a flying saucer that has at last come down to earth so large and compelling my eyes were sucked out of my sockets for five seconds of blind purgatory something I thought of as an impossibility what with the moon landings in the last century and all the heart transplants with a dozen doctors dedicating a day of grueling hours with silver forceps and scalpels designed to cut and close as with all relationships between a tight skirt and a mustache on the floor by a black vent kissing with fingers touching and moans muffled by the hand of fear there on the green carpet in a mad darkness by the black vent and the trees with lemons invading from days and decades earlier when young women found the tile smooth and electric with sharp tingling sensations on naked nubile skin rubbed down with cold creams made of fish ransacking a thousand anchored ships with knives made of pearl by old pipe-smoking hippies who make love all day with sprawling girls looking for hot thrills inside gardens made of stone and bootleg love.
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