jupitersterrain four

a summer riot soufflé 

flambéd lychees and cliché 

don the quiche of punchlines 

the drugs were running about 

the standing crowd in the stadium was rammed
thousands of people pouncing around and laughing
hit the point once and then give it a tremendous whack
once more unto the breach
we will fight them in the ditches and trenches ... the gutters
bring me my musket of desire 

not exactly 
a golden globe
gulp dim mak whak
whip staff a dirty protest
a chase movie increasingly 
distressed ... putting my foot 
down I will hammer this out ... 
the paint is running restless tossing 
sauté a truffle with nasty hypoclorite sodas 

3am 17.01.13. © Lizarikk