Xtinction Agenda

The yin and yang of left and right swirl clockwise with the refuse, taking art itself down with them. Palm some pills and get ready for the dark ride.
"Whether the child is bartered away or stillborn makes little difference."

Ink. Slippery dripping swollen sprayed. Wavering like hot driveway air. World of catastrophe, love, and despair, place we awaken, prison of care. This hell slowly spreading the nameless nightmare.

The sun came upon the horizon white
threatening void between heaven and earth.
This was the empire, rising hopeful,
destined for sky. Doomed to fall. Never to
fade.

The mind will always detect the origin of an idea. In order to remain real, the idea must be father. Or secret dollhouse safe. A real idea, in the right hands, is an intravenous anti-kick and life is but a dream.

Jointed legs scramble like metal spiders
Through streets and lanes as pneumatic ocean flows,
These dark monstrous belching farting riders
Reek a methane miasma circus show.
Their black asphalt roads were paved long ago.