I broke both knees yesterday from scaling the gator that ate the monster mask and drove off in the van.
In a lucky habitat, we could form a band to grow a rose.
Somewhere under the rainbow lies a dove's coat, waiting with feathers.
Hidden drums in burning cafes alter the tiger to the nightlife in each candle.
In a jungle of dead radios, I witness an empty swimming pool and a cross-eyed diver.
Shaky hands clutch a cigarette as the black train injects this mountain.
Step inside this electric bungalow if you want to know why the electric bees clap.