poem || Edward Nichols

Buckets of words

The biopsy was catastrophic, no instigation, noreinstatements, no joviality, no probability.Just random access to words. AnAleatoric pool of words.The missile like feather threadbare hierglyphics.Props deteriorating
on theback of every statement.Liquor subdivides the subtle path between reality,and,fantasy.Master order on a mastiff cologne.
In the heart of a god beats Hammer of reason.An allegorical, continual reinvention of the surge toward the absolute.
     In a fort night  the  mediocrities of life can be scanned to reveal marvelous entities and innovations totalling and  surpassing theseemingly trivial attributes of day to day existence.


   Tirades of will-power somewhat govern the existence of myriads energysupportive treatments that wildly transport a Trapezoid.Order of subsequent equations equatable with the power structure that portrays the rampant innuendos of fallacies down the drain.Picturesque arrangements can
collide the missing potentiate of triple trebles of colloquial meanderings through the test-tubes of invention.