Syncopated frantic bi-polar morality belies the frustrated anticipatory glares
Delivered by soldiers of necrotised fascia
Indelible doctrinaire illegitimations conceived beyond grating flames
Ill-defined preternatural etherealities rule the sacred wombs of tolerance

Stick that in your postmodern pipe and employ opaque syntax to mask the utter absence of meaning, fact or coherency.

Then again, spout shit like that over a vibraphone solo in a coffee shop at 3am and you could start your own sex cult with first-year philosophy students.

In 1959.


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