things never change?
Good old night in the foothills watching black ancient sight cause empty infinite that is boiled down to boring, tasting bland. Stowed away on the crystal ship with the old lady, laying down from the turbulent seas. Shes calm from the doctors remedy, this new age sophisticated jalopy, now cleverly crafted to the atom all too perfect atop the wild everythings connected once upon a bribe. And down in the valley the princess and her pussy licking lips sticking to the panties dancing wildly for the prince frog cock wart sprinkled and friendly. They tangled in the mossy mushroom hollow where tall wolves scheme and smiling flies swarm the pond water cum all green and sighing in relief. That first sight lifting head from night club table, and its still bulky and corny and friendly and still simple enough to party and disco till dawn. When i finally came to i was in the Arizona red and orange canyons and rocks amongst gold shining from a gleam where the wind blows soft chrome reflection to display its modern accomplishment, but it knew its uselessness already and was straightmouthed flat look constantly driving. Eyes of the bored, they learned and couldnt forget. All white desert, too, salt wounds like coke rings around nostrils in the mad 80s’ night, some sight someone wouldnt ever forget, until the sandstorm finally wore the mind away and then suffocated the soul.
