Cyber-syllable sonnets dribble from the dome
Through the electrosmognetic haze thick like thigh
Muscles, and causing similar sex thoughts to roam
Through the dullard corridors of internal sky.
Keep telling my children the universal stars
Seen in dead winter dark through loose windows rattling
Is mirrored within, confined loose in skull-like jars
Where caveman molecules built by fire are battling
With cybertron special effects, buzzing, sealing
The perimeter of lime green auras, free born,
But the mental illness ain’t ailment – you’re feeling
what’s real in the rhythm of caveman children torn
From uncarved block party wild style universe birth;
From uncarved block party wild style universe birth;
If you can’t hold it in your head, then what’s it worth?
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