Type B

Karen was infused
to become a mushroom.
Oil became distilled,
ginger was cleansed, and
all the evidence was
eliminated. Now she's a
lemon. No longer a
vegetable in a cell.

Crime-Noir

It all started with a
city on a hill where

luxury and fortune came
along with adulthood.

It was a necessity to have
pockets full of pamphlets

to create the thinkers of
tomorrow. There's this

conspiracy that the royals
chanting could be heard

from years away. That may
all be a hoax. I've been in

a coma since my wife left.
Those with a license

to say so will tell you
the city does sleep.

National Goals

Clearly he is the boss.
He attains the open/shut policy
to cultivate the hard-working

hands in any such circumstance.
For example, the bake sale. His working
climate dismisses all bemoaning

and weeny creatures. I have every
excuse to believe that he suffers from
ageism. His order of life events has

prevented a recognizable bake
sale. Retirement requires gained
intelligence and a stone-cold heart.

Nothing but Illusions

I'll lie directly
and subtly into
your palms. We
begin a cycle of
adaptation to
the alignments of the
stars. Predestination
lies within Sunday's
star drawn from
the influence. The
influence that comes
from the judgement that
lies within poetry.
A harmless gateway
to the devil's dramatic
conditions that lead
me to the signs of
water and fire. I'll
regain my strength by
unlawful observation.