The clock will strangle me to death, likely on the nature trail to pig town, in the form of a snake wrapping around my wrist as I look down to see what time it is only to realize that I’ve left my watch at home.
What else kills me? A scotch bonnet scalds the left half of my face. Cordyceps rise through like some ritz crohn mummy. Toad texts until the crash then laughs in the trees, loosely holding the steering wheel while mole looks on disapprovingly.
Not too worried about those last three. They are products of chaos and democracy. The clock doesn’t play those kinds of liberty games. The clock eats through anything interesting or loud-mouthed; then it strangles me to death. Liberty dog doesn’t get fed for days until a neighbor complains about the smell. Liberty dog licks my bullet holes because liberty dog don’t get no bone.
More about: Natural Assembly
