The moon grows antlers and stops wearing clothes.

The cities of the Great Lakes are wild with the loneliness of the cosmos.

A penciled in whereabouts for identity. Synapses with the appetite of rainy pavement.    

The heart leaps grave canyons neighing stars. Only the ridiculous will survive.

Okay lost. Okay peanut butter and dusk sandwiches. Okay angels stole my socks.