Golden Ouroboros Mental fissures clogged fresh whispers made-up with well-suited pursuits by drop-line and green kelp on decks of gilded reverberations--to leave snake-eyed us--as yet still parts needing to be insepected.
Thus meter by natural meter, go to meander through emptied mud into Vegas rivulets--awkward pelts, docked lips, eye-lash and fists,--every root is trampled fuel to the other who's just over-turning leaden shutters of the mind's asleep eye. Go sit beside corrasion for simple checks with lowly cannibal fingers and wrists, hungry folds viscious attachments, the pangs of uninterrupted movement. Gather taught chains shackled with ease about the steel of the windlass-bar. Should nails anchor blood-red such coral-colored sadness into flesh and muccus--as quicksilver scales level the deep and peer-like towers foam its black, mercurial manes... by Tommy Soden
