Tealines

Awake #8012

The Future’s Doorway minced by parasitic arthropod pulses

I find solace in the fatty acids of sesame, assuaging the internal

wind. Who will find me here with my tasks half-metabolized

as Shiva takes this frail arthritic body. When will the evolutionary

cadence arrive? Secondary school instructors taught rhetorical

questions as gimmicky. I am asserting the identification with

these bones and brainwaves with “I” as gimmicky. Subjugating

all abstract masturbatory forays into this and that as gimmicky.