Words of Tomorrow

In the last few weeks I have given much thought to the world as it happens around us. The world as it gyrates around us makes rust and crust, t makes us derivative and inquisitive often you swirve and I bang on the wall and my head savoures it all as it goes miraculously to there where it elevates, bring saliva and fonddle on the nozzle. The world around you must all create so the world around gets to be heard to the same sound that my head makes nascent arising the sand black bizarre. The phenomenon that you hear of is the noise it makes when my head corrolates or disagrees, solemnly and cars pass by and I hear of a strange new scenario on the side line. On the straight on line your head makes a buzz to corroborate that it is here all firing. In the land of the Name All bangs and leviates to the spirit one discretely looking and staring all at its intent. The head glamours, the brain drains, you spit and stick still on the wheel of my one track driver. Let s make all at once sound nice and pleasurable as our life depends on the middle. In the medium all guzzling the sound still makes one bear over your tintamare, my dear. The choir of the people in their millions overwhelms one another to sleep in tiredness next to one another dreaming the pillows and the ceilling...where I bang my f*cking head, its levitate rather than drowns and the sound remains silence to be sure your name gets read as it all went. All correspondence is through. Lama me I ll warlock you, magic in and the rainbows out tonight...The trace of my head on the wall makes Brad Pitt look like scratched feet. Life gets out...The scenario is my life. In the room you stare at me incredulously: The medium fixes the train to the rain in the bassin. Meaning and Spirit into this...My life is ill and the walls resolve around you the right story for the right public and traces of dirt inside the hole to tear them theatrically in the ceilling oils aplenty and bars of lime. Instantly I get to the bed and reanimate the male all shocked in there. The maid is levitating the hall goes quiet. one trail here, one there for me near. Let me drive mine...yours tracks in time, reader, friend, love, the others...Let the water solve and the rotten wood heal. I am the world of tomorrow and you are there to be filled. Make sure you fill me in, lil mill, don t six into sixty. New me for real!