The Tip Of The Toe Of This Particular

it’s possible that a star could touch the surface of the earth
with a mother’s loving hand without a mark or blossom wilted
because I say so
Somewhere a blue tricorn gallops over long hills
a creature on his back attempting to escape
from the god king of the undermountain
i saw this
waves of paper and jellied carmelic hills
static land
little glowy dark comedians fwipping about neutrinofied
build further detail into my design
it is well to speak these things aloud
lay them down examine the weave
and the weight
sixteen teenage kettles groove into the late evening
devolved stone slides with mild depressions for splash creation
they talk about the Porous as if they were less than
and seep themselves into nordowells for the night
’tis a consumation devoutly to be wished
and i have wished it
we’re all turning too fast to get steady
little bing bang beings i swear like molecules in hot whiskey
and if we slow down
we go back in the ground
and i have been there.

meanwhile an infinite number of things just happened
i caught a screengrab
go here: utp://singlemomentimage.rrmv
pretty big file tho
ha foolio i can’t do that

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