Crooks lay in a weighted state waiting for the dead assassin while the rust pure powder puffs
Shimmering opaque red. Papers spread, no one driving, we hurled direct ahead
The windows dark-green tinted. The hearse a taxi instead.
Snow storms forecast imminently in areas Dogger, Viking, Moray, Forth, and Orkney.
Keeping cover in denuded scrub, the school destroyed, raise the club, panic spreading with threat of fire.
Crowded beneath a layer of foam, refugees intertwined, alone.
Within the institution walls in pastel blue, clinical white, slashed red lipsticked, mercy nurse tonight.
Seems like dark grey stockings in the raking torchlight with 4 AM stubble, a midnight transvestite.
Moray, Forth, and Orkney.
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best wire tune
Will always wonder what this is about