I hear them now, as they descend upon me. I am the leach in the ground, the crescent above and then the patchwork that lie below. Shifting as their eyelids do, my boxes move across and forth just as lies move across their dead set minds…and we are just as dead as I am not, so lies consume just as they produce. They ride waves to get me, as they are the currents that flow through themselves. I had not forgotten them, as they too were sunken in my flesh, but like all things misplaced they disappeared to somewhere else….they come forth with vengeance and bloodshed crossing their minds just as they too flutter across the blood red sky. Come now, my children, and gut me like the sun you’ve drowned out.
This entry was posted on August 18, 2010 by lifeaftersocialmedia. It was filed under Machines and was tagged with boxes, flying machines, lifeaftersocialmedia, Locusts, machines, patchwork, quilted sky, walrus.