Ring! Ring! ...that awful sound...what once was serene turned a battleground. Cleverly, I snapped a foto of her frame as she reached for the door. I rhymed that situation with images from my enemies' future. I referenced technology, but I referenced established technology.
Teardust seekers, respiratory vendors, slush down the street, paralyzing the market for at least a few centuries. Sweep me up roll me down follow me over the bridge. Muscles recoil now, they shout and laugh and cry and play along. I see, what...you mean. What you mean. Leave me right here, leave me. I see your agile frame rushing for the door, and I lost it. Was I wrong? You may have a mesmerizing quality about you don't you. on the market on the floor with the dirt, with the sweeping. all the dust and grime, run my hands over it and soak it all up, roll me over. Greasy sludge slurpies, now and forever, Amen.
A babysitter watches her wallet, and says, "It's eleven o'clock, where the fuck are these people?" Well, oooh, I see what you mean. Just go, just run out the door - but I'll snap your long legs and then I'll shiver-curl into a corner shadow. Roll me down the stairs, slap me around I ask....I mean. White lies. touching you by mistake, don't ya think? It's like, how can you actually help me after all you've been through? How does that figure in, well I bet someone here would say it does. I bet someone has something to say, everything blows up here. How can you go on the road with that?
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