My does time fly. Or better yet soar. The wings of a flying dinosaur. Who am I subjected to? Surely not the nearest armadillo. Flax seed particles drown out the peanut butter and jelly. Writing without the bars of boundary or the walls of boxed thinking. StormTrooper attitude. A flashing flock of fighter fish float and flout gilled tradition. Somethings missin. I’ll check to see what it may be. Maybe it’s a grade D stack of grey bees? If a lighthouse fell in a foggy sea would anyone see it? Wouldn’t wanna be it. Leotards and glass shards packed into a backyard. Half charred half amazin. On the brink of going fully mad from a pepper cajun. I dance into a basin. Covered in bison I have to steer clear because they heard I have a license. To thrill, to build, to chill. Loosen your lug nuts I’m asking for a mil. And taking tons of pills. Ill will breathing down my neck waiting to Kill Bill. Apple slices towering above the hummer grill.
Nonsense by Zak Edelman