Monday, October 14, 2013

Lime-Scented Squirrel

Narcissus-X sees not the sun. The sun shines not today. Water runs down a window like a lime-scented squirrel.

Squirrels. Pearls. Peacock pearls before swine curves have amplitude without attitude but trending sets of syllogistic silence echo vainly against the night.

Squirrels. Vacant memories drift. Flour sifts but flowers fade. Who mourns for Twitchimius? Mourn not the Golden Grove, for lo! It mourns for thee.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Narcissus-X in Hexagonal Recursion of Pattering Penguins




The day after tomorrow.

The day before the day after tomorrow.

Asymptotic curve of irredeemable cognitive dissonance echoes against obsidian skies of unanswered questions and questionable answers in athanasian redundancy of crystalline mirrors shattering!

Where is Narcissus-X? When is Narcissis-X? Who, what, why is Narcissus-X? Hexagonal recursion of pattering penguins. Silent penguins. Silent crystal penguins, with terrible red glowing eyes.

Patter, prattle, pudding and pie: why does Narcissus-X, oh, why?!

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Penguins, Silently Screaming



Illimitable cold and darkness.

Penguins. Where are the penguins? Where have all the penguins gone? Cold crystal penguins shattering in silent disharmonious ethereal chitterings.

Narcissus-X hears the penguins: the penguins that are gone, all gone, all gone far away in cold dark screaming silence.



Dark coldness, boundless and bare, stretching far away.

Where are the penguins? WHERE ARE THE PENGUINS?!

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