there was a tuned time
when wet wits’ wiles
pricked pestered passion
fragile fills foiled fracture
there was a drooling decade
when wanky wields waited
on meagre melody, clogged cleavages
hampered hanker humming hymns
there’s this mystic metamorphoses
smothered time trails on lanky lips
of tampered technology, squashed syllables
dripping dances etched in gaunt gullibles
this time is a bruised bile
cooked in cauldron of vile vices.
’20:05:20:19:42
Note: of gaunt generation.
Ancestral Trail 