May 20, 2017Bioman, Flash, Poem, Poet, Poetry Leave a comment THERE IS A WAY There isn’t the nurturing of the timing or the vagrant lights of time immemorial it is the rights of all to the thing that makes it durable to the rights of mainstream use, the use of the timing belt to make it really cool to be able to beat to the drums of Nature. It should be right to know it well that you are One with all you sell out to the failings of the bells and rings that stir your heart’s will to the right-timed well of fables and asks about the tiny use of the red white and blue too, to use it to the ends of tiny-most user-friendly tyning belts of war machined gains and losses. The shod are torn between the use of all and the sorting out of the renter and resting places of the fallen who do not know if they shall ever be there for the righteous use of the tiny well known howling of sawn-off shots of gore about the tiring and the lyre of the pursuit of all to the deadend arse of time. COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017 Share this:TwitterFacebookPrintLinkedInEmailLike this:Like Loading...