these swimming in jello moments when all my lifetimes come crashing at me in hyper driven rush of remastered sounds
almost taunting me
a near collision of disastrous out of time brush strokes
almost haunting me
these flat eq'd symphonies of grand expectations i wrote in negative harmony 200 years ago falling around my ears
almost soothing me
a treasure chest of train whistles inside of the vacuum of climax
almost remembering me
and just to make you wonder...
this is where a random bassoon solo would go
(i've never met a bassoon player)
these spaces in the distance of retro-baroque melancholy hold me in a passion for a single purple note
almost drowning me
a cat possessed by the drunken ghost of kieth emerson dropped on a piano
almost toppling me
these pre-hays epic movies with singing breasts and dancing penises i directed at the end of a decade long night
almost arousing me
a smoothie of poisonous fruits mixed with a wah peddle and garnished with the color of a conjunction
almost fortifying me
these places in the timeline of an endless loop of TV themes i wrote in a cave under the tree of isolation
(i have met a dulcimer player)
but this is where the accordion solo goes
because you know why...
**this is exactly where ralph cramden walks in and tells me that i am a mental case**
but i do enjoy rolling around in this swimming pool full of angel hair pasta
a fallacy of intimacy i decided to type one night
almost saving me
an ode to the seagulls of chaos who remind us that if you eat the eyes of a soul you will pass this into oblivion as well
oh well...
i tried to love you in the shade of melody and somehow lost the tune
these swimming in jello moments i finally captured in your mind
one of you should remind me next time to type
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