December 28, 2014 § Leave a comment

This is no pleasing fusion, no innovative blend of the extraordianary, no delectation for the creative palate. No, this is a mash-up of detritus hurtling through synapses, flashing in Instagram clips through dreams and day-mares, unblocked, uncensored. And I am hanging on like a bare-back rider, hanging on to something spooked, and we are galloping, galloping, and there is no clearing, no path, just the whip of twigs, the thundering of hooves, and the unrelenting speed.


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