Gut's View

Night light, the meeting can finally commence.

The garden has lost its tourists, the fireflies, and

fib bugs get better at ignoring us, who's left?

Forest vacationers return to the wilds,

reporters reporting the anguish in the rustling leaves

missed by the catchers. Best guessers in the source humbly

making no sense for the pigs, no sense for

these multipliers in my attire.

New

acceptance in the Bender style. Power?

No.

Force of imperceptible strands bumping, colliding,

jiving us side to side; swiftness amongst

the elements elevates connective boldness--

Watch this...

Patient student, fallen 8 lessons until

I'm lucid. Who's this observer sliming the

pavement in my wake? It shakes, dressed wrist loosens reality

for mutual benefits, excess to fringe naughty bits.

Respect laced, delicate holder

of a talisman, empowered through, get this

cruel twist, colder stares during unsane request of

my humanity.

Damn hot, the rules only need

a simple plot. Cleaned out a junk

drawer or three, and let the memory

write the unknowable Mythos. Although,

relinquishing the illusion of an autopilot

that would bestow such 'mystics' is non-negotiable.

The ease is what sold you, right?

No outside voices on the tape, choices

aren't to escape--see there, the night light.

The silence between heartbeats that

always got you.

Flick the switch a bit; it's yours.

On...

Off...

On...

Will you hear them?

Will you recognize the gut speak?