Caught in a Haze

“Tap the dino, please…”

Disconnected, disjointed, plaintive, votive, shrieks

A monster-like figure, shadowy, two-gunned, ran through the pipes of the internet.

“There must be somewhere out of why,” said the monster to the night,

The monster, sensing irreality– the monster’s worst nightmare– yearned for a touchstone:

“It would be a smooth aesthetic touch to change “the pipes” of the internet into sewers, and if so, let them be Paris sewers.”

Loch Ness, Hunchback of Notre Dame, tiny gremlins, prince of peace, solemn soldier,

Gunned down by a machine gun, by a richochet of lust, a vampire slipping out, into a gust.

Grimoire gargoyle, staring down from the heights, plague by a novel coronovirus, sweeping sweet fields using bunker busters. The monster of shadows, hating everything, disgusted in gusts of the tribunal vinc of a so-called desert storm,

“We live to live.”