Transforming violet Nostalgia


Transforming violet Nostalgia

A sequence occurs,

Pen-e-trates – never Re-Turns.
Elderly writes of vintage aroma.

Noting the bird of our feathers.
One resplendent,
the other forgets signals.
Where is everyOne
I say, and when can I see that
its going to happen?

Conversations of gangs, the rebellious
of doubts that never rose.
Knights of a disasters
responding to the world next to a bitterst boss,
tasty as a blood-stained crab.