The lizard has lost its manners and is pulling a grumpy scowl across its face
The blue flower strays lackadaisically in the wind
Tall towers stroke the sky
We’ve lost our minds but we haven’t yet lost the universe
A half formed thought streaks across the sky in plaid letters
What do the letters say?
We don’t know.
We’ve lost our language and misplaced all our punctuation.
We flow through abstract sequences, colors bleeding into other colors.
Inanimate objects tell us what to think
Until…
We finally hit our head
feel our own blood run down our forehead
and wake up.
The Rambling Locksmith 