Thursday, November 10, 2011

edible

the infinite morsel is attractive to me. it is my surround. “it” is not it, not singular but whole but part. these breakdowns and buildups of boundaries and form fascinate my brain stuffs bewildered and overwhelmed. consistently, constantly, tirelessly, unrelenting; an insistent eyeless beast popping me with its static discharges and ambling pounds.

the shadows of my surround, the grays in my peripheral, the blacks and whites of my parallel and fore, and the prism of my aft are all my joyned chums; my old pals with fats to chew and fires to stoke.

my behoove is befuddled asunder a hack-shaed shag. tuft-wondereds hit my synaptic altitudes whilst sole and toe keep sod familiars.

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