Laser beams point at you, give you a good blast. How does it all work when the last one comes and brings a dollar bill in its place?
Burgers running out of their ears like pus from their nose, causes unknown. Demigraphics for the lifesize charts, bumpy roads paved last month. King of the lark, happy one, is food for the mouth, time being important again.
Mugs. An initial painted so carefully on the side, now coming off from time. Failing me. Myself. Pins showing miniatures from life appear nicer than regular sized ones. People fail. Armed robbery with a mask on. Get some money to buy, buy. Formidable things cover the ways that surround the shrouds made from the finest material, soft and pure so young, clouds never rain. Grab a coat, lifting a piece of something to hear in the words told to them from back in the past. You'll remember. Lift out. Compare to the one next to you for size. Matching boots are the way to be someone. Or at least a start.
Noodles, to eat. Yellow, a white cross -- the pot with venerable pleasure. Sans the left or right because neither could be remembered. Tie a shoelace if you can. Denunciate somewhere along the road because it didn't belong where it was laying. Between a blade of grass.
You do what you can do. It takes all you've got to be above it or at least be equal to that something you cannot grasp but know is hiding someplace out there. Buckets, torrent, down, and ride on the peacefulness of my day. Whatever.
RIVER BED 3
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