A simple divergence is what you get.

Searing blood runs in a stream alongside highways,
Blood of fate, of screaming wankers, of old waste...

Of serotonin surrendered and sequestered into pill-form.
A foliage of souls burning in a gold pot.

Nimble brambles scuttle like bitches in breezy night.

Holes are quivering now, waiting for events.

Long walks take the toll on old feet.

Members degrade each other at the mercy of nothing.

Temperatures are falling like glasses.

Nodes and notes and nodes and notes.
Boats come glacial-like,
old ice sliding down the river now.

Hum.
Hum.
Hu,
Hum.
Who om who um who hum who um who um.
Omi Omu Omuwho.

A valid quest for vowels
is ended.

[Listening: Junior Boys - Work / Album: {2009} Begone Dull Care]