For these steel days. Since it was all commercials, we won't pay. Some chameleon miracle glimpses itself growing out of a risk and what patrol slid out of sight like a parrot's eyes stiffen to expose your silences back to you and the grind between stations gets loose and timorous and dealing with the myth that men are angels brought a dent in the friction where I'm coiled, hidden, stricken by the calm of re-appropriated ignorance. It brought about the end of opinions. Their ghosts rejoiced for us and them is us again.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
The Radio Prays
For these steel days. Since it was all commercials, we won't pay. Some chameleon miracle glimpses itself growing out of a risk and what patrol slid out of sight like a parrot's eyes stiffen to expose your silences back to you and the grind between stations gets loose and timorous and dealing with the myth that men are angels brought a dent in the friction where I'm coiled, hidden, stricken by the calm of re-appropriated ignorance. It brought about the end of opinions. Their ghosts rejoiced for us and them is us again.