the rollercoaster seems to be one straight plummet into the bowels of candy coated nightmares in a cistern of excrement splattered reenactments of soap opera starlets and genocidal dictators playing polo on the dessicated corpse of summer’s last good bye.

i am listlessly searching for an exit from this long corridor my mind insists is a maze beneath the city of the city the city is nothing more than an elaborate construct the construction on the highways never ceases in the middle of a pandemic an asphalt and orange vest epidemic of systemic potholes on the otherwise unblemished soul if the wandering troubadours that suffer from nearsighted love at fist fight.

my head hurts and the empty bottle or tylenol lays on the floor next to my collected works which is another misuse of deforestation in rigid lockstep with the alabama coalition of winsome losers and lonesome provacateurs tripping balls on homemade toilet wine and regurgitated sock puppet theatre as projected on a sheet in the middle of the last bastion of self aware homogenized circus peanuts as they strike out against the candy corn mavens in lavender body suits washing up on the pristine shores overlooking the sea.

and i am tired and stressed beyond words.