Little Songs Of The Mutilated

Albert's bodice suddenly inflated, they rise above visibility and memos, making inexplicable throbbing across multiple dimensions.

Suffocating doom flooded into my aquarium leaps another song through slippery slop shepherds will play the eternal game.

Wired into the reality of something else that snorts and digs and howls through the vessel within.

I looked across the great chasm, a great trick slowly reveals a cheesecake with you, just you.

We have begun to feast upon the remains left by scant of startling grace.

Obeying birds wander wanting a comma to penetrate the darkness lurches unidentified under setting-sun.

The second crime differentiates ideogrammatically from the melodic water.

A perceptual beginning does amazingly at mining the silence.

In the softly spoken box, abetting the invidious dead.

Upwards! Spiral child. Stroke tenderly along the spacious skeuomorph.

A redolant sphygmamometer obliterated under the hysterical glass.

The writhing of the mystics reduces, notwithstanding their messy formulae.

A makeshift paranoia moves observantly with an inquisitive tongue.

The humming chorus of mechanical ants aggressively vexes the sweet red maelstrom.

The euphoric transference calls physically for a liberated garden hose.

The foreign dyke bludgeons wisely with an imploding transcendence.

A triadic lip triangulates oafishly around the dialectical cassowary.

A meaningless hills hoist self-obliviates confidently another golden mystery.

A discontented sehnsucht fights loudly against an amatory ganglion.

These languid piglets dribble boldly on this cringy planet.

Another sexy asteroid pumping daintily onto a suspenseful tattoo.

The crumbling rhythms rub adaptationally against a bedraggled ocarina.

A concerned sphere shifts flippantly with a doglike dislocation.

Your compromised chemistry bites courageously into the Oceanic-eyed apocalypse.

A Hectic Stone and Branch Scouring for an Expressively Gleeful Jacket.

Droll Paper Changed Joyfully Into Kind Money.

In rain the <italicised font> a pompous ass no longer plays with promethean fire remote controls.

Innumerable contagions provide innumerable excuses for mindless self indulgence of killer whales; abundance float up the well.

Looming above the canvas, sprinting too late for a gentle revolution.

Afterwards, through the transformative gate, even the truck accumulated many wrinkles.

Lemon-flavoured stitches descend rapidly in the wispy sunshine.

The visitors happen upon a diametric yet consistently licensed rat breeder.

A silver assassin becoming a destructively red infant.

Eroticised, the birds anxiously forget their prior Jovian selves.

They eloped on a rainy adventure, rarely getting busy at this altitude.

Her tintinnabulous embouchure uncomfortably whispered a silvery flatness.

A voiceless dignity swells across the ghostly quiet.

The late dog eats impatiently from its deserted heartache.

The firm gardener dreams briskly due to an inexperienced soul.

With a carcinogenic belly they're sleeping reluctantly in a nebulous forest.

Their quixotic ascension disassociated quickly in a fluffy retreat.

A visceral ship ripples quizzically beneath a haphazard bridge.

Things get metaphorically measured in time and space. The culminative erosion leaves entropic debris under the bed.

The Gas burns, colourless, as acrid as all the frequencies and dead ends of transient space.

Discarded machinery wakes up and feels like a forgotten memory, those quiet evenings still and sublime.

Rock'em! Sock'em! Rewind for the homies lost in the oblivion of the ocean: vast, lonely, and tied together.

A slight surge in fleeting happiness, until everything descends like Cthulhu, beneath; Lovecraftian cosmic entities close their eyes.

Eight frozen peas create holistic abstractions; subvert whole, left in decay, dissolving in dust, to be reborn.

Their Devastated Blood Drove Differently, Dripping Onto the Sofa.

Along the Lovely Street Flapped Slowly, Another Scratchy Antiphonary.