Lap it up, said the fool,
Untied from the former tool.
Napper on the crapper,
Author, somehow dapper, legs it to the alleyway.
Read the back, 'I know not of a caper'--
Also....
Ethereal keystrokes on--what page is this again?
Conclusion has burned the plot,
Lucidity faded four chapters ago, 'where's the last time
I used the backspace?
Pompous dialect in every character, and what's this
Scenic nightmare about?
Eager to stretch the legs or maybe bathe in battery acid.
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?
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