Watercolour Grey - Thought Industry

Half man.

Lathe Secada died, thus causation be concomitance

I’ll empathize, like grangers melting chocolate drip smeared on Dublin ties

Because your laughing on with a memory

Laughing while I berate myself.

I wasn’t there for the landside that’s coming

to terrorize you

Up she yawns time to shake.

Waking up for her new day

Combing out her grease paint hair with a smoke and a coffee

If your God is fake.

Scarred like you on your new day

I will come and paint your face watercolor grey

Madulin.

Thespian conspired.

Our county fair revisions lay red and atomized

Some pompous phrases on wine.

My combine splits the sky

I’ll be with you again