Lush transits take you down to the Monday blue and cocktail parade of sudden cities and sights purportedly uncommon. There are usual suspects-- dancing millepede, with thousand toed puddle talon; and unused vestigial organs-- tails instantly acute to surroundings and delicious cheap meat barkers, hidden green sauces, and musty collared spaces that skinny pants encircle, all the while pungent of grandpa. It's a good army though. Dearest hosts bed you with gnochi, eggs, and smiles, and together we crisscrox bumpy lanes to gather round tables of bent circuits and armageddony sound stances and hilarious mosh mantras. The borders shared are unraveled by books and the tongue of murmur and mutual subverts; hidden rooms procure solace enough to buttress the keystone fall of everything you once knew-- all the safe and sewns, all the tidy northeast norms, all that milky toast and psoriasis-- out the door, and one's back emphatic: true human. I dig me every chance I can get. Eyes used for tooth support!
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