Bovine Squeals (day 2815)

As molten streets
Circumnavigated
Each island:
Utopia,
Madness circled
Each callused leader
Shaking fists
With Sir Devil.
Groans and
Bovine squeals
Inspired construction workers
To a fury,
That led each
Minister
To a foghorn;
Cattle afraid
On auction day.
Without much notice
Neither alarm
Necks were bled and drained
Swept away
Into a drain
Flushed away with rain.
And then began
– Recycled plan
Nothing new,
No change, all the same
Nothing to excite
Not a note to cause alarm –
Monotony
So deafening
Each victim
Just ceased
In plain.

Cobblestones & Family (day 1454)

Laughing at imaginations that crisply punctuated my effortless circles of family, I crossed the path that led me to inevitability. It was here I sat down tired.
To my dismay, I was greeted by an understanding gesture that pickled my sentence with freshness beyond the cucumber, but all was not lost for I had a scapegoat.

Yet as I spoke my attention was caught, to which I followed down steps towards heavenly waterfalls to meet a pure maiden who took me by the hand and lightly led me across cobblestone walkways towards the utopia I had come to know and love.

So my imagination left me, and I was greeted by a hand of sincerity and kindness which knew my full name and hugged me as I came. I then carried on, for around me was family, and I was the same.