Turnbuckle recedamorph
a story by Shyner Nybok
no muse leaves feng shui loose leaves feng shui hey big guy rambunctious and new afresh you slime molded transient trash you life long abstenent fertile garbage heap to back youself, here it is, here it is to lay it out no reading constant realize the bird that sing for you is bats, mammalbirds. “Happy mothers day! Im suicidal” creeping parsnips. diffrerent stahk, different fahk” in an asian accent different strokes different folks. and empty saddle ready to receive, give it to me o lord, by and by lord by and by. empty nerd head quizzed smart waiting in agony for the next stimulant who is me coming clean. Holy dear lord by and bye lord I live in an empty town where people look at me in the eye, a look without warning, I realize our people don’t exist any more and I soak in their juice like a crab trap pulling in water no crabs o the ancient, they do suffer, by and by lord by and by, to be lobbing, from the ancients by and by lord by and by. Its scaring me recently somebody stole the light, whores everywarywhere. But the birds at night they make the same sounds as they always did. I think it’s a bat actually, mammalbirds. when will you be here because I suck at this. A magoo at this. A flight for four eyes.
Turnbuckle recedamorph.