musing on busses…

feels somehow timely to reblog this one

Timmy the Scribbler

Yet this is the placement that gives fictive
observational instruments a specific
example with which to explore these concepts.
Point and highlight. And indeed a man stands.
Attempts a posture he intends to say
is focused more on the approaching bus
than the pair of creatures who are
inexplicably beautiful
– that ever maddening feel
that propagates a constant
delirium, being a blend
of quiet composure and deep dark
eroticism that has origin
in an eternal pod or pool
– or a pool within a pod – the man
performing poorly. Glances far from
furtive. Dream world thinly concealed.

Nothing would qualify for pure porn
feature. Dreams are primarily
of sensations, which words cannot reach
and the influence under which pictures
have no hope of entering
into any real structural form;
mostly molten runny blots
and lava blobs, in all floral tints.

This is what seems lost  – both those…

View original post 281 more words


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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