I was desparate to frazily at you and bat my eyes in a shameless way, but alas I held back, dismayed yet cold, serene ice queen of paisely silvered dew. It's you, oh mongrel, on wet drums dead of brusselled brushes. slipping side across the skins to smash the breaking boxes.. purple fission, what a vision of blurred fingertips! whist you go, oh man, cavedude playing, upon your guitar those hands set alight, flames within a heartburn field. A widdely to the left and right and up, down south again the sliding strings. And other things pretend to play, but only you can make the vision reality. Somewhat limbless, limbful, many other stringent followings. Nor the wide eyed fans that glare in envy, jealous of what keyboard magic you weave? Basic hygiene: cleansed hair, perfect scent of baby powder, yet there you are, high upon your wooden stool. Pumping at the lead and pedal, clammering at the keys. First C sharp, then a dominant, where are you going to? I don't know.
thats ace. the secon half is really different style..like old literray style to a really modern flash of todays world. cool!
Me likes. Sooounds like a Lewis Carol style word, frazily. I want to incorporate nonsense words into my poetry, but it is hard. Well done.
