Twitter patter hitter harder
That's knotty what ailment
Afreed of dare dotter alas
But eye jest in sarcasm
If the action shoe fits you
wear it well afore another
slips loose in the aftermath
Of the afternoon of the after
sense, the laughter death
intended, O well, well meant
any who, what's a loss to do
in the before world under
the influence of dream time
draining down the bath tub.
There's the rub, it isn't you
it's who will pretend to run
whenever whoever's done
the deed remains too afraid
to putter forth and try to utter
the single sentence a late
fraying world yet awaits
to read running through
their feed like yesterday's
news heralds the blues
by definition when you
consider every individual
grain of sand of us slips
underneath the winnowing
depths of the refracted
ripples of undulating
day light poised to
never vanish yet
wink out as
an elixir
