god is a generator
that doesn't know when to stop.
procedural creation--
they are on a loop.
artificial intelligentsia, ideas
pregnant, notions
full of promise. a tackle to the chest
can bring you down for good
and they know this. no one tells
you, though. this is why you must
read and live while you read.
the generator demands it
all.
Well, it looks like I've majorly lapsed on the poem-a-day habit. Not to worry. I'm taking a short break to finish the Balkey story line....
“What,” the young, scarred and scabbed Scib said, “did Mr. Pin calm him – Bixson-” And Balkey closed the gap as soon as the word left the...
Tell him Coral has finally gone sour and the Pin is as crooked as we all thought,” fryed Balkey and eyed the straight and tall, the...