I hope I die while hugging

It has been said that "Evening came, and morning followed" thus we move on - to things like scaly chair monsters with vertebrae exposed as teeth and reflections of my Fathers clones; to the tables for midgets and the swung backs.

On to the undercover sweat makers and their flowery black crows with their common confusions and purchased frustrations; and on to a dreamer pointing with his shoulders and frowns; on to fan trees and wheel legs. On to conversations with folded arms and the amateur philosophers of tomorrow who speak with the voices of a decayed peoples - and their noise is like bull frogs!

On to a visage of a dead man formed smeared with and within lead; and giant tempters entering soft skulls to pry open tooth caves and take important papers to sleep hanging from our bodies.

On to time warps and disgusting sentiments with animals barking, howling, & wailing in human voices about animal things; on to recollections of laughing, and dancing fingers, with the woman of today – tomorrow.

On to hot earth in ceramic jails whose escape is meat graves and the activity of morning birds - Herein my refuge rests awakened in excitement by a dying star - this is morning.