8 Beat

August 8, 2008
in Category: Blog or blob, Noise poem
0 1189 0

Atmosphere is mutating, making social space shift, as the drift of weather or not, gets a little hot. Undergoing warming, a global warning commutes its terror dawning, on days out of phase with ancient ways. Noise plays this cadence with modern malaise, a maze of anti-matter mutterings and prophylactic utterings, that proselytise with phonetic code, the genetic mode, of our generically engineered abode.

dex

Cassette connoisseur

View my other posts
Social Media Auto Publish Powered By : XYZScripts.com