Temple Foreclosure

Compassionate disaster of dystopian proportions. A resurrection of belligerent truisms without the palette of the master. Idiot chorus on a speed metal wave length. Broken apart by the intervals of sovereign notoriety. Sell me your fictitious blueprints for top dollar while I weep into your grave of meta-cognition. A streamlined lactic acid cocktail for the champions breakfast. Please weasel this into someplace less sacred. Up shift forgery. LoJacked switchblades. Tremendous polygon nightshades erupting into flowcharts.The prevailing god-wheel mammoth structure igniting yet fading like red hair in the sunlight. I can shower your famished cube-self with the phobia of the royals. Bleed the tincture of your vessel into this flash sale grab bag. Notice the font size change? I didn’t think so. My enterprise is that of complete stealth. We deal in trained messiahs. Buddha leaning novelties. Structured holy blobs. Fan fiction truisms. Romantic novel addictions and stained glass shrinery! The last day I mowed your cupid’s lawn I distrusted the very statements you made so aggressively clear. The bulge in your jugular like a pipeline of bile fueling this amygdala hazed crisis. Your phallic word puke splashing all over me. And the Italian shoes were new. “Time to hose down, now”, I interjected, being the good Samaritan I am and all… Maybe he just needs an enema to settle down with. Portraits of the grayest nation plastered on the mother’s busted micro-bus. The same damn Marlboro ad since 1962… Shucks. This is just like a titty twister inside the brain. A fool hearted bastard of rinse cycle cataclysms. Don’t spill your milk around me. I do take it personally