Shuffles of ninety's and twenty's are modern classic or I say confused.they are retro and aesthetics altogether,
oneness is sickness porridge.
There lies question behind every breath.
And the answers are as far as a dim light of a catastrophe revolving in the universe
Pre assume measures of the reality
Is spoon fed "a delicate souffle rose & forked down"newspaper never roared while I sleep unaware of trauma, of
rebellious, revolts,wars and death,
All sync of stormy,anguish and end.
Someone's presence could be shorter like the space between a two syllable word,but memories are as long as the distance between two poems. Self made disasters as too much of smoke, for lungs,soaked in tar and charcoal,so better dig them a grave.
Wines and bars should shut on footsteps of a sadist for they trade in numbness not in pain.The nostalgia in air knows where to carry me, away from sanity,near home,
for cynical storms and neon flickering lights
Kites and coldplays
Paper planes and daydreams
Are meant to stay in different skies,where maybes will run to or might stop or maybe not.