The other day I walked into a bar, the old place, saw endless tunnels, gadgets and immoral lighting that interconnected w/ music underfoot. My fingers boarded the apologetic apparatus, some of it; there it was thudding thru walls... Every eye rolled, doors slammed. After worship, there’s little but taut necks guided by the star beats. Yesterday was bright as is today. 
 
En route to the dogs, there’s the apocalypse w/in; pushing up deeply.  Our lot’s in a hurry. Natant decapods added vowels.     
 
No future arouses chaotic phenomena rooting for any singularity ahead until there is no threshold. Yet another one. Matter persists, w/o dissonance, no disruption, a new status quo: perpetual and vital amid meanderings that are ordered appearances gone dormant, nearly kaput, or snap, running off with fresh incentives for a frontier in more ubiquity. Optics unravel in dissolving attitudes behind all the good times forward.