An alcoholic preacher ran the
\nstop sign.
\nHe moved the wheels forward with shot gun legs.
\nThe faint glow of red light
\nshimmered by his peripherals.<\/p>\n
We’ve got lanterns to guide you through that minefield.<\/p>\n
He said through reclining eyes into his rosary:
\n“I picked you out of 5 in a dollar store,
\nthe most you could do is say
\nthank you.”
\nThe life-eggs were rolling down the street.
\nHe needed to fill his quota on souls received.<\/p>\n
We’ve got lanterns to guide you through that minefield.<\/p>\n
When asked by the
\nblack and white knight
\nwhy his temple floor became a liquid,
\nHis aged eyes took on the form of ticks
\nseeing only inward. Out of that infinite came:<\/p>\n
“I was told we’ve got lanterns to guide you through that minefield.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Written by Andre Bourlin<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" An alcoholic preacher ran the stop sign. He moved the wheels forward with shot gun legs. The faint glow of red light shimmered by his peripherals. We’ve got lanterns to guide you through that minefield. He said through reclining eyes … Continue reading