Menace in the Uwharries.
Dilophosaurus' night on the town.
Angry spitter, thawed from ice or
awakened in a lightning storm.
No one knows; no
no one survived
the rebirth. May the lab coats rest in vain.
Angry sprinter amongst the armored
hunchbacks, cornering into display window clothes racks.
more apparent are the
black tracks. Pale food screams
different, over-covered
in bland, loose skin; gross.
Angry splitter, acid still softens their
skulls with the Vlassic crunch,
interrupted by bangs and tiny pricks,
thrown so fast--
what a neat trick. In need of some
dirt, this other stuff
is too slick-- "Oh My God, where is it?!"
Angry shift through the ages?
Yet here's a plain of furry beast,
(HELP, HELP!! How many more lions will it eat?!)
Flashbulb dichotomy,
every other stings the flesh. Vandalizer freeing
zebras from something called
glass enclosures. Bolstering the
fan dance, but
tiny apes are
getting wiser.
Angry dweller of the Savage Park
and its unofficial attractions.
Call it legend,
Call it dead by now; even the
Uwharries never speak its name. (you mean--)
SHHH! What was that?!?
That's right, the wildlife not standing a chance.
Ignore the warning if you dare, but
there was one more camper last year.
About the Creator
Willem Indigo
I spend substantial efforts diving into the unexplainable, the strange, and the bewilderingly blasphamous from a wry me, but it's a cold chaotic universe behind these eyes and at times, far beyond. I am Willem Indigo: where you wanna go?
Comments (1)
Great visuals and imagery. I could see it as you said it.