No Poetry, Just Burbling, Writing, Sleep-Brain, Alcohol Ref

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...oh gods, now it's a broken rendition of Love Cats by The Cure.

we move like schnockered tigers
we couldn't get closer than this
we try to walk, we try to talk
the way we [REDACTED], *horrible background noises*

we slip in the streets while everyone sleeps
rolling bigger and sleeker and wider and brighter
We bite and scratch and scream all night
Let's go and...

...oh, no, oh gods no...

[A CRIME HAS BEEN COMMITTED]

Brain, stop.

from Wetdryvac https://ift.tt/16ibzle