Byline: Monster Minute

Buford Youthward
stockcap@hotmail.com

chartered through the seaweed and sewage ravaging the daily ennui.

ply humanity into something steely at least try

while finding ways to get your bills paid is

Expecting new shifts in downtown perspectives.

Into paradise may angels lead you

Raise no more devils than you can lay down

Distinguished whip

Young rug cutters local 13

Building a hobby not just a career.

Highly structured, organized and hierarchical.

A fate sealed with a song.

Whiskey, pain and beauty.

Dreaming about stories

She talks like a semi-automatic rifle, non-stop bursts of language, a shotgun blast of incoherence.

A monster minute trying to contain their natural state

Watching celebrity degrade dignity as vipers of ego hover over dead ideals.

A great story or a story told greatly ... inspiration and feedback loop the strata

Create pockets to place your fears.

A sickness revealed, a loneliness concealed

The rhythm business is booming while melodies are mismanaged.

A story gets you in the door, characters lead you the rest of the way.

Scotch taped lies posing as cardboard truth.

Once majestic, now gone to seed.

The disconnect between what you do, know and generally work with from a field perspective.

Speak not about what you read.

Helplessness 101.

Motion pictures meet motion sickness.

Virtue of emotion. Singers are props for the song, artists are props for the art.

His lines were tedious, his looks hideous.

An anecdote is not the antidote.

Only the damned know fully what they have lost.

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