I believe in the healing power of unhealthy options. Percussive isolation. Drumbeats buried in a colossal physique. Orpheus, the overspontaneous,
drumbeats through a dinosaur theme park. Don’t care, I only lie about what I believe is right,

clinging to no theory of purpose, no gift of agency to promote my case, as masking vanity becomes a park manager’s challenge.

Fizzy yet salient points soak over the water poloists hanging out for the escape clause (always the last place they look)!