Short Cobbling Poems

pruning pulpy pear
tactic tier's there 
passion pasting prayers 
fostering fallible fair 
felon figs belched 
contractions cobbling crest 
 
whooshing wind yawned 
tucking tainted flaws 
owed to draws 
 
then a coda 
mystic melody murdered 
concerto grosso clustered 
 
pulsing pear blushed 
leering lanky lust. 
     19:12:13:08:23...

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dimwit damping desires
punctured passion pulsing
puking, sopped plenary
impregnated zeal gnashing
odd offshoot scolding

cremated cusses cobbling
hewn nosy tracery
strapped self scrunching

jumpy jazz jolting
mystic mist moaning
lusty limbs lurching

felon feigning ally;
perforated pulpy pedigree.
19:11:30:5:00

Note: To all corrupt Police Officers!...

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Beautiful webs.

Spidery, and the spiders know everything.

Now they are cobbling cobwebs.

In a basement.

The basement is where there are sounds of leaking and creaking.

Sounds that are not meaningful.

Webbing that used to be like connections and ideas- 

That are not meaningful these days.

The webs waver a bit from the draft in this cold place.

The spiders died.

And spiders know nothing....

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