Motor Hum of wind on metal grass stains, chigger bites dream days of unrealized promise Lucid dream? Obscure Reality? days blend covered in skim, film, vasaline on the lens that what makes memories into nostalgias colage of bombarded with golden things guilded things hollow rings through the volume of truth in water holds faulse nostalgias to the dog shit earth holds hair teary eyes scrape on tree bark obsnities float into psuedo puritan ears holds a hand, a foot, a cock to backside warm memories of dead faces incested with perverted lice. hands that cannnot praise the skies for what they are but for what might lie inside them grasp hungrily even starvingly, lustfully, at twisted ankles