the dots on the chicken wire form colons when multiplied by two
down the hill to the cordoned off area slowing the fuck down as they hit town
merging their vessel in with the rest of the wreckage on the range that you find by turning right where the convex mirror is half broken but still is a help to those that slipped on a rock that was previously sturdy but has now progressed to limited fame due to a bruised fibula
to keep it brief at this balmy retreat for clandestine wounds that remind one of when hearing sirens wail
reversing the direction of their attention and reversing it once more for good measure thus destroying any chance of correctly inserting the atm card
oh but I know the secret now don’t I
if only I could get there faster
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