I don't know the plants here in Hawai'i, none seem to be talking to me. Perhaps they need flute offerings. It's like ecstasy mixed with squares here, crew cut lawns side by side with vagina discovery, so foreign to me, like behind a glass case and I don't want to buy a gun anyway. I'm afraid to get bulletproof, thats what. No way, things too specific, like the texture of paper towels, will haunt you forever.
What happened to greenhouse? I'm inside dreamcatcher again and hollowed out spider waiting for flies. A lounge chair doesn't care but my whale songs do. Inflatable pool is swimming in my belly missing being blind. Now its cold baths if you took acid waiting and forgot wet floor, broken nose. And grids, fuck, always buzzing green and purple, where the mean lady I hide her in the furnace. Haha! I caught you! Out the other end at the other furnace on Campaign Street! A dark pillar follower, shadow man! I see you!
Pillow fear is aware now, I can look you in the eye, whipper! Floodgates open now! Thats where the evil toilet comes from too, the vomit ice cream cone. My own chess game populated by Reese Whitherspoon and Kiefer Sutherland. Fuck you.
I take back my kingdom, I populate my prison with angels and sugar cubes and pandas, and other ferns.