Silver nostalgia

Cleanses the palettes softly

A future of mirth

The mind fixates fast

Stuck on words like telephony

Thinking bout airguns

 

Must imagine clay

Then the thought dynamite wins

Leading to new shit

Smite the spice lordling
Slice into spicey chunks yo
Fetch all the giblets

Spy ghost explosion

Tracing particles through space

Magnetic murmurs

We can all collide
Wrapped up in tinfoil and left
Baking in an oven

A curious quest
To be a baked potato
Ends in melty face

Free cold tequila

Three fold frozen ale in ya

Frosty ethanol

telephony ghoul
my cellular call data
must be freed at once

Forgetting shit now
It doesn’t matter one bit
Stargazer’s sands shift