Seen and done, the raccoon with the shiny gem and the dark man on a throne, a castle of glass and eternity unknown. If the universe is a
cyclone then in the calm of the eye there's someone, the gaze of a dragon and chin on fist, the simultaneous smile and frown as all
of this sparkles and swirls down into the juxtapose of a meaningless road. There was, I think, a time when-
I know you, it's been done over and over. It's shredded black burnt rubber of a tire that explodes, the long cold, the bones that
bitch about the way life is just a story over told. Call it gold, call it toad, skulk in the rain and say it's sold, all the while
where's your soul?
Strange that you'd ask. I don't know.
Question a wolf. It's pigs and bricks and blow, every bridge needs a troll.