UntuitionHard to follow


Leather skinned, leather tanned members of a civilization from an ocean across the shore looking up to the sky in hope of finding a new ray of light shining behind a false solution, waiting for the sun to turn violet after a new revolution, radiate fiery violent heat from its’ core once more whilst suffering the virus which causes them cold.

Of the many tribes gathering molasses, more moss, meeting up with delight in hopes of running into the ultimate cure under pretense of absolution, waiting for the moon to pull tides and make women wail, at infantile stages of a mind’s evolution we are setting sail for failure, continuation of our parents’ mistakes under who’s roof we are signing the documents ignoring the stakes, buying snake oil with tulips and acai berries, MD Isangoma prescribing a diet of things coloured cerise, warning that the rest has been soiled.

21st century animalia, dressed like humans reliving 80s nostalgia in effort to return to innocence, a world without impotence, but full of importance and significance for maintaining your children’s presumably blissful ignorance. Well tickle me pink under your plucked deep-fried wings and colour me red, even the political idealist owns a colour blind bed, sheltered warm, fucked, well-fed, bored and wed wading through a troth of embarrassment, Weiner’s weiner regarded an announcement whilst proles are dying behind the facade of the toll troll, pushing trolleys of weapons, conversing in the bathroom stalls, frothing at 1900 premium calls, balls deep in telephone bills, ankle deep pants, gutter deep ethics and fear of rejection set via impossible expectations, for a lack of repression forces only immediate litigation, nations to plead guilty upon the Notion’s associations.