Glass icicles staring bullets into an
unknown world
choosing to see through the shit shaved streets
unknowingly eye-contacting each
sand swept spin while spinning
a web of water
falling into a mist
The cycle spins sordidly forward
dizzy ducks sitting in a pond of flesh
eyeing the shattered shards
into a beach of understanding
commonplace in an uncommon
place of beach bastard wheels
moving the spray of oceans unseen
The wind we watch
is but an illusory effect
of the watchers wind
feeling the stench of an
unbeatable force
We take for granted that we
can seedsmellstatenfeerel that
which was created in a cancer
ridden bake sale which we
didn’t create
but
created
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