BY ZAC DUNN | ART BY NICK FLOOK Upon any block or curb, a tiny bit of liquid or condensation may gather prior to vanishing into the ether … a puddle may catch one’s eye and cast a gaze back inversely … TO smile back or grimace a response so honest we claw at the day GLO antiFREEZE — smelling of alkaline mines upon an acrid plain that is brittle and fickle — crackles and snaps under DUNKS of hoofed boots as mountains upon NEPTUNE exude secluded glue. Spooned up by MARTIN and baby HELMET folk aboard a PIE-SHAPE LID or DISC that sips of COSMIC VAPOR, SPACE GRAVITATIONAL ARC welders stay attached by humble GROMMETS that WALLACE and MICK RONSON told a STAR MAN would suffice. Tricycles often spin out of brown clouds of MOON DUST that ANGELS and DEMONS prance and gyrate like EPILEPTIC GIRAFFES’ laugher at watering holes upon a CIRCUS’ dark half. RADIOACTIVE particles cascade infinite spectacles that fracture into prisms given by kooky mathematics folk as a joke to elaborate the perilous joy of FRACTALS, as diving as deep to the bottom of the puddle, as diving into the infinity inside the patterns of nature, a computer VOMITS back as a colorful vortex or OCULUS can see … So BE THE PUDDLE SO FILTHY AND EYE SO BLIND TO MISS THE COMET’S KISS UPON TAILS THAT ANNIHILATE ALL MATTER UPON ITSELF AS THE DROPS EVAPORATE OUR SKILL AND ABILITY TO MAKE HATE, FUCK OR KILL IN A HUBRIS OUTSIDE OUR OWN WILL. 5:45 am 8.5.24.00000003 OGE FOLLOW FOR MORE — IG: @UZIEGO | TUMBLR: @SAVAGESNEVERSLEEPNYC
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